She shakes her head a couple of times, her beautiful black hair flying all around her as her eyes fill with unshed tears.
“He tried to hurt me, he actually did hurt Jeremiah.”
Holding out my arms, I call out to her to come to me. She doesn’t move right away. Instead, she stays where she is, her bottom lip trembling as her body starts to shake with what I can only assume is shock.
Grabbing ahold of her robe, I walk over to her, scoop her up into my arms and carry her away from the scene. As I stand, something metal falls to the floor and I flick my gaze over to it, noticing that it’s a small paring knife. Shifting my gaze around the room, I see that there is a tray of food next to the bathtub.
“I stabbed him in the neck as soon as he crowded me, when he tried to pull me out of the tub. He had a gun trained on me, Colt,” she cries against my throat.
Taking her over to the bed, I want nothing more than to sit down next to her and hold her, but I can’t. Jeremiah is bleeding on the floor, and the other men who make up her guard are also unconscious. Plus, I have not seen Martha or Ernest anywhere, which means they too could be in grave danger.
“Stay right here, I need to get help,” I rasp.
She doesn’t protest, her eyes are still wide, her entire body still trembling, but she releases her grip on me and I stand as I cover her bloody body with the bedding.
Turning away from her, I run to Jeremiah’s side. Touching my fingers to the side of his neck, I let out a sigh of relief when I feel his pulse beating steadily. My next move is to run down to the guards and demand the authorities and the medic to come to my aid immediately, then I go in search of Martha and Ernest.
It doesn’t take me long to find them. Both are locked together in the pantry. Tied with their backs to one another, gagged and bound on the floor.
I’m not sure why Martha wasn’t able to stop this from happening with her witchcraft, but I don’t have the time nor the inclination to ask her. As soon as I release them, I rush back to Jeremiah, the medic close on my heels.
BIRDIE
I can’t really clean up the dried blood on my body, not without seeing Logan’s corpse again. Instead, I try to make myself as decent as possible and rush to Jeremiah’s side while Colt gets the help that he desperately needs.
Taking Jeremiah’s hand, I hold it in mine and lift it against my chest. I whisper to him, begging him to please be okay. He has to be okay. I can’t let something happen to him because of me. I don’t know if I would be able to live with myself.
Jeremiah saved me. I heard the scuffle in the bedroom and I just had a feeling that something was very wrong. Then I heard a loud thud and that was when I grabbed the small knife from the tray of food next to me for protection.
Then everything happened in slow motion. It didn’t just happen in slow motion the way that sometimes things feel as though they are slowing down. It really all did slow down, almost to a stop. I don’t know if it was mine or Martha’s magic that caused it, but had it not happened, I would be dead right now.
Maybe it was the gods intervening. I don’t know much about the gods of this world, but I have a feeling if they’re up there, they could have definitely put a stop to Logan and the black magic that filled his body.
Logan broke into the room. He tried to speak, but everything came out garbled. He took a few slow steps toward me, his gun in his hand. He lifted his weapon, a slow smile appearing on his lips. Then, before he could pull the trigger, I lunged toward him and buried the knife in his throat.
I killed him.
I killed my husband’s best friend.
The bedroom door flies open, breaking me from my thoughts, and standing in front of me is a very distraught Colt, with a small army behind him. A man that I assume must be a doctor rushes past him and sinks down across from me on the other side of Jeremiah.
He begins to assess him, and that’s when Colt forces me to stand and give them space.
“Put him on my bed,” Colt announces.
The doctor along with a couple other men carefully pick him up and place him gently on the bed. I watch in horror as Colt wraps one of his arms around my shoulders and tucks me warm and safe against his side.
“Will he be okay?” I whisper.
Colt doesn’t answer me, probably because he has no fucking clue if he’s going to be okay or not. Instead, he just holds me and we watch the doctor work. He cleans the wound, then he starts poking around and when Jeremiah moans out in pain, I have to turn my face into Colt’s chest.
My entire body hurts just thinking about the fact that they don’t have modern medicine, then I selfishly start thinking about giving birth with no medicine, with no painkillers and I really start to internally freak the fuck out.
There are men moving around us, then someone calls out Colt’s name just as the doctor is stitching Jeremiah up. Colt doesn’t leave my side, he tells the men to wait in his office, that he will talk to them as soon as he knows Jeremiah will be okay.
The doctor explains that he was shot, he’s found bullet fragments, removed them, and hopefully there won’t be an infection. He’s cleaned the wound and stitched him up, now we just wait.
Again, the lack of modern medicine is truly sinking in and I’m realizing that this place isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, even if I’m some kind of old west queen and I’ve fallen completely in love with my husband.
“I’ll stay with him, you do whatever you need to,” I whisper.
“We will stay with him,” Martha’s voice calls out.
I don’t turn to her, but I really want to. Instead, I tilt my head back and look into Colt’s eyes. His gaze searches my face, assessing, he must approve of what he sees because he simply nods his head, then takes a step back from me.
“The strength of my wife, it has no bounds,” he murmurs before he dips his chin and touches his mouth to mine in a brush of a kiss. “I will just be in my office downstairs. Do not hesitate if you need me, just call out for me.”
Without another word, he brushes past me and Martha as he leaves the room. Martha doesn’t hesitate even a moment, she rushes toward me, wrapping her arms around me, she pulls me in for a hug.
“You’re okay?” she asks on a whisper.
“I’m okay.”
“My magic is depleted after Florence and the black magic. Logan caught us off guard and tied Ernest and I together. I tried everything I could to get us out of our bonds, but I was just too weak. I won’t be much good for a few months.”
Lifting my hands, I cup her cheeks. “I slowed time down. Jeremiah warned me from the other room. I don’t know how I did it, I thought maybe it was you, but it must have been me, I slowed time down and I was able to attack first.”
Martha’s eyes widen before a curve appears on her lips. “Amazing.”
We spend the next hours sitting next to Jeremiah. Eventually, Thatcher, Samuel, and Markus join us and tell us what happened. Apparently, Logan was able to knock all of them out, but they’re a little fuzzy as to how he was able to do it by himself.
I’m not.
When I plunged the knife into his neck, I watched it attempt to escape his mouth. I held my hand against his lips, the dark force unable to escape and I closed my eyes, trying as hard as I could to keep it there, hoping that if it was inside of him when he drew his last breath that it would simply die with him.
The black mass, the dark spirit, black magic, whatever it was, it made its way inside of Logan. It must have found him after it left Florence or maybe Florence sent it to him, I don’t know and I’m honestly okay with never finding out. I stayed in that bathroom with his body long enough to know that it didn’t come out of him and that it’s done now—hopefully.
Clearing my throat, I open my mouth to ask about Daisy and Bessie, but decide against it. Honestly, I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep and I’ll worry about those two later.
The Logan situation is unfortunately handled, Jeremiah is recovering, none of the guards were hurt
and the dark magic is as good as gone.
Chapter Forty-Five
COLT
“How long must we stay in one of the guest rooms?” I ask as my wife unbinds her hair from the detailed bun that rests at the crown of her head.
Birdie hums, not even sparing me a glance. “Jeremiah is recovering. Until he is well, I suppose.”
“Does the thought of going back in there, to live, scare you?”
The thought had crossed my mind, more than once, but this is the first time I’ve asked her. It’s been a month since she was forced to take Logan’s life.
A month since I disassembled the Assembly in the most final way possible. A month since we’ve had any major issues. I’m sure that we’re due for something else to happen soon.
We’ve not dealt with Daisy, Bessie, or Florence. They are all in Silverridge and I’ve yet to forget or dismiss them, but they are people we will need to deal with when we return home. I cannot worry about them in this moment.
As far as my sources have been able to discover, both soiled doves are back home and did not make the journey to the city behind us. I have guards on them, keeping their eyes on them, and they’ve been instructed to lock them up should they attempt to leave town.
Florence is still locked up tight and will not see the light of day again, ever. She talked of a woman who practiced black magic, but failed to mention that she was one of them, too. Logan was so caught up in his own treason and traitorous ways that he didn’t think of the repercussions of his and his grandmother’s plans.
I don’t know what their endgame was, but it does not matter. They thought that they would best me, they neglected to take into account that I am always on the alert and my bride holds more magic than they could have ever predicted.
“It doesn’t scare me, I can’t allow him to have that kind of power over me. I just want Jeremiah to be well before we move him,” she says.
I hum, unsure if her answer is the truth, but I decide not to push her too much on the topic. Watching her make her way toward me, I can’t help but grin at the sight of the swell to her belly.
She climbs into the bed and shifts herself close to me. Reaching out, I press my palm against her stomach. “How is my boy?” I ask, as I do every single night before bed.
She rolls her eyes. “What if it’s a girl?” she asks, just as she does every single night.
“Then she will be far too beautiful and I will have to start wars over men vying for her hand, men who will attempt to woo my beautiful girl. No, it needs to be a boy, darlin’. Life will be easier.”
“For whom?” she asks.
“Me,” I admit with a shrug of my shoulder.
I laugh softly, knowing that I would welcome a boy or girl, happily. All I have ever wanted was for our babe to come into the world safe. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I need to try again,” she whispers.
Nodding, I release my hold on her and watch as she attempts to use her magic, her powers to find out how Daisy and Bessie are scheming against me, against this country. I have a feeling she is also attempting to check on Florence and perhaps her sister, who still seems to be in her world and has yet to cross over into ours.
Birdie’s eyes close and I watch as they move from side to side beneath the lids, looking and searching for someone to connect to. It’s mesmerizing to watch, a power that I’ve never experienced before. She is the type of woman I would have never chosen for myself, but now could never imagine living without.
I don’t know if she finds what she’s looking for, but I can’t look away from her as she continues to search. Shifting my gaze to the ceiling, I can’t keep my mind from wandering to Logan and Florence.
Since being in the war, I learned never to unreservedly trust another human being, but if I were going to choose someone to trust, Logan would have been it for me. The reality that he was nothing but a traitor in the end, hurts me, even if it was caused by magic.
I’m not quite willing to believe that he was always an enemy, I still hold on to the idea that it was dark magic and perhaps had truly nothing to do with the man himself or even me. It is so much bigger and although it has hurt me, I won’t allow it to destroy me or the friendship we once held.
My entire body jumps from the bed when Birdie gasps next to me. Turning my head, I look over at her. Her eyes are open and her chest is rising and falling rapidly as she attempts to catch her breath and calm herself.
“I saw them,” she whispers.
I don’t say anything immediately, instead, I wait for her to speak first. She presses her lips together, her eyes searching mine. Staying silent, I continue to take her in, waiting for her to explain exactly what she saw.
“They were still back at the brothel, in the room with the floral walls. They said that they were waiting for a letter from Logan before they headed toward us. Apparently, he was supposed to send a missive that would be their signal. Then they are coming here to take over, including Bessie being added as a member of the Assembly and Daisy taking my place, the man she does that with not being of any importance. You, Logan, or some stranger, she doesn’t care as long as she’s the woman in charge.”
Nodding my head, I gather her in my arms and pull her against my side. Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through her soft hair. Her breathing starts out in short shallow pants, then as we continue to just lie with one another, she inhales a deep breath and lets it out on an exhale before she tips her head back to look up at me.
“I’m afraid of what will happen when Logan doesn’t send a letter,” she whispers.
“There is nothing that will happen, darlin’. They have no power and this is their attempt to grasp control, but they will fail. They already have.”
Dipping my chin, I touch my mouth to hers. Rolling over, I place my hips between her thighs and groan at the feel of her warm heat against my hard length. Birdie arches her neck, her legs widening and allowing me even more room to move.
Shifting my hips, I align myself with her center and sink inside to the root. With a growl, I look into her eyes as I begin to move inside of her.
A blue glow starts to surround us. I try to ignore it, but it’s bright and swirls around us as we begin to enjoy one another’s bodies and climb higher and higher toward our release.
“Colt,” she breathes.
I hum, unable to speak as I thrust my hips harder and faster with each pump. I can’t look away from her gaze, her eyes have me completely transfixed.
I don’t know what the future has in store for us, but I do know that as long as we are together, with the gods on our side, we will prevail in all things.
BIRDIE
Standing in front of the window, I look down at the city below as I listen to the man in the bed beside me breathe as he sleeps. Pressing my lips together, I cross my arms over my chest and let out a sigh.
“You are thinking loudly,” Jeremiah rumbles.
Turning my head, I look over to him. He’s sitting up slightly in the bed, his back against the headboard as he watches me.
“Did I wake you? Do you need anything?” I ask, my words coming out in a rush.
Jeremiah shakes his head a couple of times. “No, Birdie. The only thing I need is for you to stop worrying over me. I am healing and I will be okay.”
Nodding my head once, I take a step toward him, sinking down in the chair next to his bedside. “I feel guilty,” I admit.
He hums. “You should not. This is my job. My career. I chose to protect you with my life and I would do it again without hesitation.”
Guilt swims throughout my body, I can’t help it. He almost died protecting me. The other men did too, but Jeremiah was bleeding on the floor. I will never get the image out of my head for as long as I live.
I want him to be well, to live and be prosperous, to fall in love and get married, to make children—to live. It would ease my guilt a bit, because right now it’s at an all-time high.
“Okay,” I whisper.
H
e shakes his head a couple of times, chuckling when he does. He opens his mouth to say something, but a throat clears at the doorway. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at Colt who is standing there, his gaze flicking between us.
“You’re not trying to woo my bride, are you?” he asks gruffly.
Jeremiah snorts, then moans at the move. “You know that I’m not. She hovers,” he grumbles. “Her guilt is too much. She has decided she must mother me.”
I open my mouth to protest when Colt lets out a bark of laughter. “We leave for home tomorrow, you’ll be able to make the trip,” Colt announces.
We’ve already had the grand ball with the remaining Assembly members and Colt has had a dozen meetings with them over what is going to happen in the future. It was decided that the Assembly would be completely disbanded and Colt would have toleration powers with the remaining Assembly members as advisors only.
“What happens when we’re home?” I ask.
He shrugs a shoulder. “We live our lives, and deal with Bessie, Daisy, and Florence. Then I attempt to get the railroad plan back on track.”
“Do our positions change?” Jeremiah asks from the bed.
Colt shakes his head. “I rather appreciate you, Markus, Samuel, and Thatcher as Birdie’s guard. I can’t deny that I appreciate the fact that all four of you were willing to sacrifice your lives for her and our child’s safety.”
“Though she can take care of herself,” Jeremiah announces. “She is probably the most powerful woman I have ever encountered.”
Colt snorts. “Indeed, she is,” he murmurs.
The men stare at one another for a long moment and I open my mouth to break the silence, but Colt beats me to it.
“Come, Birdie,” he mutters, holding out his hand, palm up.
Shifting my gaze from him to Jeremiah, then back, I extend my hand and slip my palm in his as I rise to my feet. Jeremiah calls out to me before we reach the threshold together.
“Yes?”
Bride of the Frontier (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 3) Page 30