Deadly Vows

by Arthur, Keri

  I got up and ran for the trees. Saw, out of the corner of my eye, a black wing and the gleam of claw. I swore and dodged left; heard the rip of material, felt the trickle of warmth down my arm.

  I twisted around and ran back across the clearing. Felt the surge of Monty’s magic; saw the shimmer in the air as his spell arrowed directly at me. Waited until the very last moment and then dropped low and twisted around as the spell flew over my head.

  The Manananggal spotted it and veered upward sharply. The spell followed her trajectory, quickly latching on to a bloody bit of trailing intestines. As the spell unwrapped and the threads of the containment portion crawled toward her torso, she screamed in fury and then, with one sharp claw, sliced the spell—and the section of intestine it had latched on to—away. As the bloody bits tumbled toward the ground, she did an abrupt turn, tucked in her wings, and dove.

  Straight at me.

  There was no time to spell. No time to run. She was so damn close I could see the gleam of victory in her blood-colored eyes.

  The bitch thought she had me.

  The bitch was wrong.

  I flung a hand upward, and bolts of sheer energy leapt from my fingertips and arrowed toward her. Surprise flicked across her expression; she rolled to one side, her wings pumping furiously as she tried to outrun my lightning. I spread my fingers wide, breaking the bolt into five arrows of light. Every single one hit her; the first one burned into her torso while the other four melted holes in the membrane of her wings. Her flight became erratic, but she somehow continued to gain height despite the tattered state of her wings.

  Five gunshots rang out in quick succession. The Manananggal’s body twitched and bled, but her frantic flight wasn’t stopped. Wasn’t even slowed.

  Another surge of magic, and then Monty’s spell was again chasing her. This time, it was nothing more than a simple tracker, which was perhaps why the Manananggal didn’t appear to notice when it hit the severed edge of her torso. She just kept flying, blood dripping from her body like black rain.

  I pushed up and ran over to the stranger. He was still breathing, but how long he would remain that way when he’d been gutted I couldn’t say. Death might be hovering, but she hadn’t yet stepped close to claim his soul.

  There was still hope.

  I swung my backpack around, then glanced up as Aiden and Monty entered the clearing. “We need an—”

  “Already called. Tala’s going to meet and lead them in.” Aiden’s gaze fell on the stranger’s stomach, and his expression darkened. “They may not get here in time, though.”

  “We can’t all stay here and wait for them,” Monty said. “We need to go after that bitch and stop her.”

  “You two go.” I pulled the small medical kit and a bottle of holy water from my pack. “I’ll wait here for Tala and the medics.”

  “Perfect plan,” Monty said. “Aiden?”

  Aiden’s gaze held mine for a heartbeat; deep in the depth of his bright eyes, I could see the battle between heart and duty.

  “Go,” I said softly. “I’ll be fine.”

  A smile twitched his lips, then he nodded and said, “This way.”

  As the two of them ran from the clearing, I carefully removed the shredded remains of the stranger’s clothes from the edges of the wound and his exposed intestines, then undid the small bottle of holy water and poured it over the sterile dressings from the medical kit. I didn’t bother trying to push everything back into his body; I’d read enough books to know that generally wasn’t a good idea. Instead, I simply covered the wound and protrusions to keep them sterile. There was nothing else I could do for him; nothing except free him from whatever spell might still remain. If death was his destiny, the last thing he deserved was for his soul’s journey to be hampered in some way by the Manananggal’s magic.

  The only trouble was, the binding spell she’d placed on him wasn’t visible even though the dark caress of its energy made my skin crawl. Embedding spells in this manner wasn’t something I was familiar with, and I had no idea if dismantling it would be dangerous. Which meant I’d better call Belle in.

  I sat cross-legged on the ground near his head and reached for her. You busy?

  If you consider eating a great big bit of chocolate cake busy, then yes. You need help?

  I’m about to break whatever magic lies on the victim of the Manananggal. I just need you to keep an eye on proceedings.

  Her surprise ran through me. Said victim is still alive?

  Long story, but yes, because she used him to lure me into a trap.

  Confusion replaced the surprise. How?

  I somehow created a connection between us when I used her blood as a tracker. She must have guessed we’d be staking out local weddings and used the stranger as bait.

  Getting rid of the local witch is the sensible thing to do. You okay?

  Yes, but the lure isn’t. The ambos may not get here in time, and I don’t want to leave the stain of her magic on him.

  Good idea. Even if it doesn’t hamper his journey, it might somehow alter the trajectory of his rebirth.

  That’s what I thought. You comfortable?

  Yeah, go for it.

  I took a deep breath to center my energy, then carefully reached out with my ‘other’ senses. What I couldn’t physically see instantly became visible. The spell was a fist-sized mass that sat just above the long cut that had gutted him. Tendrils not only ran up to his brain but also around his heart; the latter explained his pasty skin and blue lips. For whatever reason, she’d been controlling his heart rate.

  Perhaps she didn’t want him going into cardiac arrest and damaging his heart before she’d had a chance to dine on it. Belle’s mental tone was grim. The spell’s construction is somewhat unusual, isn’t it?

  She knows she’s dealing with another witch, so I suspect she’s taken steps to prevent interference.

  A final snare?

  More than likely. I scooted around to the side of his body and studied the spell from a different angle. And caught, through a slender gap between two of the concealment spell’s threads and a still gaping bit of wound, something that looked a whole lot like metal. Darkish-colored metal. I shifted again and leaned closer. It was definitely metallic…

  A horrible suspicion stirred. Hoping like hell that I was wrong, I peeled back the nearest section of dressings and used them to carefully open the wound up. It revealed exactly what I’d feared. The final trap wasn’t just magical; it was also physical.

  Something had been shoved into the internal cavity created when she’d gutted him. Something I rather suspected might be a grenade, given the little I could see of its shape.

  Which means the spell has probably been designed to remove the pin the minute anyone tries to dismantle it, Belle commented. How the hell are we going to counter that?

  I don’t think we can. I simply didn’t know enough about this sort of magic. I think our best bet would be to remove both the spell and the grenade from his body.

  What if it’s primed to go off if it’s moved?

  That’s more than possible. I put the dressing back over the wound, even though there was probably little point to worrying about infection now. Not when a grenade had been unceremoniously shoved into his gut. I think I’ll call—

  I stopped, my heart leaping at the sound of a twig snapping. A second later, Tala stepped into the clearing. She quickly scanned the area, then looked at me. “The area’s safe to enter?”

  “For now. Where are the ambos?”

  “Waiting for the all clear. Define ‘for now.’”

  “There’s a spell-wrapped grenade shoved into his stomach; I can’t dismantle it, and I’m not sure if it’s safe to remove it.”

  She stared at me for a second. “Seriously?”

  “Very.”

  “Why the hell are you still sitting next to him, then?”

  “Because it’s the only way I’ll feel the spell—” I stopped as the stranger’s breathing changed—be
came a desperate rattle. “Shit, he’s going. Get the ambos in here.”

  “I can’t if we’ve an active threat—”

  “He’s going to die—”

  “Better one than four.” Tala’s voice was grim. “It’s procedure, Liz. Until the device is deactivated, I have to cordon off the area—”

  “Damn it, Tala—”

  I stopped again. The rattle in the stranger’s breathing went silent. Several seconds later, his soul rose.

  There’s no stain of her presence or magic attached, Belle said softly.

  I closed my eyes against the sting of tears. While I knew his death wasn’t my fault, guilt nevertheless swirled. If I’d only known more…

  You wouldn’t have been able to save him, Belle said. If his soul moves on rather than linger, it was his time.

  Knowing that doesn’t ease the guilt, Belle. Out loud, I said, “It doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”

  “That doesn’t alter the existing problem—the explosive device in his stomach. Where are Aiden and Monty?”

  “Going after the ghoul. I think we need to call Ashworth in—given how long he’s worked for the RWA, he’s more than likely dealt with something like this.”

  Tala immediately pulled her phone out of her pocket and made the call. “He’ll be here in twenty—will you be okay while I go meet him?”

  I smiled faintly. “A dead man holds no fears for me.”

  “Maybe, but this dead man is primed to explode.”

  She offered no further objections, however, just turned and disappeared back into the forest. I heard a brief conversation a few minutes later—she was obviously updating the ambulance crew—then silence fell. I had no idea if the crew remained; the stranger’s body would have to be taken to the morgue once it was rendered safe, but it seemed impractical for them to be waiting around here when they could be tending to other emergencies.

  I returned my gaze to the stranger and the magic that still resided within him… and noticed it had changed. The spell’s tendrils no longer restricted his heart, and the ones that had bound his mind were also in retreat. The main mass had also altered; it was now longer—thinner—than it had been only minutes ago.

  Then it hit me—she would have felt the stranger’s death, given she’d still been connected to his mind when he’d died.

  She also might have been aware that I was here given our tenuous connection. If the magic was altering rather than simply deactivating, there could only be one reason.

  She was pulling the pin.

  I thrust to my feet, grabbed the backpack, and ran like hell for the trees.

  I had no idea how long it took for a grenade to explode after the pin was pulled, but it surely couldn’t be more than four or five seconds. A silent countdown began in my head; I hit the tree line at three.

  The grenade went off at four.

  Chapter Eleven

  The blast wave hit and briefly sent me flying. Bits of metal tore through the leaves and branches of the shrubs above, sending a rain of green all around me. I hit the ground with a grunt of pain and tumbled into some sort of depression—the hollow caused by an uprooted gum tree, I realized, spotting the huge root ball looming above me. I curled close to the edge of the hollow, trying to present as small a target as possible, waiting for the destruction to end. Waiting for bits of flesh and body parts to stop splashing wetly onto the ground only meters away.

  Heightened senses, I thought grimly, weren’t always a bonus.

  “Lizzie?” came a shout. “You okay?”

  Tala, not Aiden.

  “Here.” I uncurled and sat up. I hadn’t entirely missed the destruction—blood stained my left calf, and there was wetness seeping into my shoe. I carefully rolled up my jeans and had a look—the wound was long, but only one small section of it was deep. Whatever had caused the cut had also sliced into my boot; while my foot didn’t feel injured or cut in any way, I left the boot right where it was. Just because it didn’t feel injured didn’t mean it wasn’t—the boot might be the only thing holding my foot together.

  I glanced up as Tala appeared. “Those medics still nearby?”

  “On the way back.” She squatted at the edge of the depression, her nostrils flaring as her gaze scanned me. “Any other wounds?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Good.” Her gaze moved to the right, and her expression became grim. “What happened?”

  “At a guess, she felt him die. Either that, or the spell was primed to react once he was dead.” I hesitated but felt obliged to add, “If we had taken him to the ambulance, the blast would have killed us all. It was the right call.”

  A faint smile touched her lips. “Of course it was—but thank you. Is it safe to go out there?”

  “As safe as it ever can be with a ghoul hellbent on killing loose on the reservation.”

  “So there’s no lingering magic I have to worry about?”

  “Not that I can sense, but if you give me a hand—”

  “You’re not going anywhere except to hospital.”

  “But—”

  “I trust your instincts,” she said, and then added somewhat wryly, “And that is a statement I never thought I’d be uttering.”

  It certainly wasn’t one I’d ever expected to hear, especially given her initial skepticism when it came to my abilities.

  She pushed to her feet and then looked around. “Jen, she’s over here.”

  Jen was one of the ambulance crew and in no time at all had me treated, bundled onto a stretcher, and whisked away to the hospital for a full checkup.

  Thankfully, the cut on my leg only required a couple of stitches and my foot was, as I’d surmised, uncut. But I was certainly gathering a good selection of bruises.

  I caught a cab home, and Belle met me at the door, ushering me in before handing me the biggest revitalization tonic I’d ever seen. It was probably also one of the foulest smelling.

  “That’s just your heightened sense of smell kicking in,” she said. “It’s no worse than usual, I assure you.”

  I wasn’t so certain of that given the gleam in her eyes, but nevertheless shut my eyes and gulped the thing down. It tasted as bad as it smelled.

  I shuddered and thrust the empty glass at her. “You lie.”

  She chuckled softly. “One of these days you’ll stop believing me when I say things like that, and I’ll have to start making them palatable.”

  I snorted softly. In truth, adding sweeteners to most potions actually diluted their potency. It was possible to use Manuka honey—which was well known for its restorative properties—but Belle was old-school like her mom when it came to potions. The thicker and fouler, the better they worked.

  I hobbled toward the stairs and slowly started up; despite my caution, my calf ached in protest. The painkillers they’d given me were beginning to wear off.

  “Have you heard anything from Aiden or Monty?” Belle stayed behind me, obviously intent on catching me should I fall—although given her sprained ankle, I wasn’t sure how she’d manage that without sending us both tumbling. “Do you know if they caught the Manananggal?”

  “No, and I’m thinking that’s not a good thing.”

  “Unless they’ve got her cornered and are waiting for daylight. Given her magical strength, that would be the prudent choice.”

  I couldn’t help grinning. “Prudent isn’t a word I associate with Monty.”

  Belle chuckled. “That is for sure. But Aiden’s not one to take unnecessary risks.”

  Especially when it came to his heart… I pushed the thought away and dropped down onto my bed. “I think I’ll have to park behind the coffee machine tomorrow. I’m not going to be much use for anything else.”

  Belle raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t the doctors tell you to rest up?”

  “They told you the exact same thing—are you?”

  Her grin flashed. “When it comes to orneriness, we’re both as bad as each other. I’ll do the coffee, you handle the cak
es. Penny and Celia can handle the rest.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” My phone rang, the tone telling me it was Aiden. A ridiculous surge of happiness hit.

  “It’s hardly ridiculous when you’re in love with the man.” Belle tapped my shoulder. “I’ll leave you be. Don’t spend all night talking dirty to him—you need to sleep.”

  “Spoilsport.” I hit the answer button as she left. “Did you kill the Manananggal?”

  “No. How badly were you hurt this time?”

  “I wasn’t. How did she escape?”

  “She didn’t.” Exasperation filled his tone. “Define wasn’t.”

  I smiled and lay down. “I cut my leg, but it’s not serious.”

  “So no stitches?”

  “Just a couple.”

  “Fuck, Lizzie—”

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  “You keep saying that, and it’s never entirely true.” The exasperation in his voice might have been high, but so was the caring that ran underneath. It wrapped around my heart and made me giddy. “I really wish I could take you home tonight.”

  “I really wish you could too.” I kept my tone deliberately light. “Maybe once the whole Clayton situation is sorted—”

  “You’ll give in to the inevitable and move in with me.”

  I’d love to. I really would. I closed my eyes and kept the words locked inside. “You know why I can’t.”

  “Liz,” he said gently, “the return you fear might not happen for months or years, if at all. Why let the possibility of future heartache disrupt the happiness of the present? Especially when you’ve spent most of your life running from one rather than enjoying the other?”

  It was tempting. So very tempting… I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Because—”

  “You’re afraid,” he cut in again. “And we both know your fears are well founded. I might not be looking for my werewolf mate, but I can’t guarantee she won’t ever step into my life. What I will promise is that I won’t toss you aside as cavalierly as you fear. I care for you. Deeply. Hurting you is not something I ever want to do.”

  “I know that, but I’m just…” Scared that this time—this split—would be the one to utterly break me.