Shadowed Blade (Colbana Files Book 6) Page 5

  Alarm started to shriek down my spine. Instinct screamed at me, like a siren in my head. Go, go, go…go.

  I could have argued, disagreed. Chaundry had spent the past ten days chasing after us with a lot more success than I cared to admit. She had been hunting us. But was she alone?

  Justin hadn’t been able to figure out why she’d been after us.

  Neither had I.

  It only stood to reason somebody had been manipulating her.

  The knowledge blooming in my brain made my skin crawl, though I wasn’t surprised. Part of me head already clicked onto this bit of knowledge. There were other players at stake. One possible idea filled me with a fury so potent, I could almost feel his neck giving way under my blade.

  But that didn’t make sense.

  Slowly, I lowered the weapon in my hand. It only dipped a fraction, but it was enough to signify something important to the woman. She shifted to face me fully and when she did, I saw moonlight glint off a blade. She didn’t lift it though.

  “Go.” The word came out clear and full of command.

  I’m not big on command, but there was something so intrinsic in that word that it made me pause and in that pause, my instincts started to scream at me.

  Hell yes, I’d go.

  But only because I wanted to. I’m contrary that way.

  “Come on,” I said to Justin, helping him up. Fear chittered inside me as I realized just how weak he’d gotten. As we backed toward the car, both of us watched her and I saw that his hand was flickering with red. Fire. His most basic magic. Every witch, even those who didn’t have mastery over fire could use it to some small extent and he was expending what was left of his energy to give us that extra weapon.

  “It’s okay,” I told him.

  I don’t know if he heard me.

  We were ten feet from the car when she turned her back to me.

  By the time we got in the car, she was lost to the night.

  She was quiet. So quiet. My ears hadn’t even picked up a footfall, not even a heartbeat this time. And I knew she was gone.

  Chapter Six

  “I’m getting really tired of constantly having my hands in your guts,” Colleen said.

  She was absolutely not joking.

  It had taken me entirely too long to get Justin someplace safe.

  That was an hour south of the armpit where we’d trapped Chaundry, and each moment I’d feared would be his last.

  Once I’d been certain nobody was following us, I’d called Colleen and demanded she tell me where the safest, closest witch house was and how soon she could get there.

  She’d sworn at me like a sailor and then told me about a Red Branch house that was on good terms with Green Road.

  It was just past the Florida State Line and to be honest, I wasn’t really surprised it was part of Red Branch. They were warriors, almost all of them and if somebody were going to be that close to the Georgia/Florida border, it would be Red Branch. They weren’t afraid of a fight.

  Even though Justin was the one who was spilling blood all over Colleen, he didn’t respond. Then again, he wasn’t even conscious. He was so pale, I could practically see through him.

  His head lolled to the side and even when she jabbed a needle through the torn flesh, he didn’t move. He was lost to the pain and whatever brew Colleen had given him. It wouldn’t last long, but whatever respite he’d have I was grateful for. Witches couldn’t handle real pain meds—too often they turned out to be more harmful than helpful, but a good witch could mix up herbal brews that would offer some relief.

  Justin’s heartbeat faltered. I could hear it.

  Colleen would sense it.

  I saw her mouth flatten out. I rubbed her shoulder. “He’ll be fine. And you do know that we don’t try to get into these scrapes.”

  “You don’t have to try.” Colleen slanted a look at me. “I think these scrapes hunt you down and jump on you.”

  She had a point. Shifting my attention to Justin, I focused on his face, all but willing some of my strength into him.

  “Okay…” It seemed forever before Colleen was finished and when she lowered the tools she’d used to close the wound, her hands were shaking. She was almost as pale as he was. We shared a grim look before she turned her attention back to him. “I’m saving my strength to deal with the rest of him, that’s why I stitched him up rather than healed this. His lung is a mess. All of him is a mess by now.”

  A sharp pain hit me square at the base of my skull, a painful reminder of the headache I’d been ignoring.

  Colleen sensed something and she shot me a look.

  “I’m fine,” I said sourly. “He needs you more than I do.” There was a remnant ache in my ribs from the two I’d broke, but they were mostly healed and I felt worn to the bone. Beyond that, there was nothing wrong with me that some rest and food wouldn’t cure.

  Something else washed over me, something that almost made me forget the pain in my head—a heated rush of prickling warmth that slid across my skin. Focusing my eyes on Colleen, I asked slowly, “Did you bring company, Coll?”

  “I wouldn’t say I brought company.” She had her hands on Justin’s torso, one above the now-closed wound just off the midline of his torso and the other over his heart. “I’d have to go with company brought me.”

  Finally, she looked up. “I was racing out of town like a bat out of hell. Somebody must have reported it back to him—which, by the way, pisses me off. Let him know that. He sort of…pounced down in front of me and asked if he could join me. I guess he figured only one or two people could have me moving like that.”

  “She figures right.”

  That low, rumbling voice had my heart—and other parts—of me tightening. I turned to see a familiar form filling the doorway and I had to admit, the sight of Damon Lee was almost enough to chase away the fog of exhaustion that kept trying to overtake me.

  He came around the bed, eyes never leaving my face. I wanted to jump up and grab him. Before I could put thought into action, Colleen’s voice cut through the air and I whipped around to see Justin arching upward, mouth open in a silent scream.

  “What the hell?” I caught his shoulders and held him down.

  Damon pinned his thrashing legs.

  “Infection. Already settling in. Burning it out.” Colleen’s voice was brusque. “The tonic I gave him is burning off, too. He’s hurting.”

  Damon’s hands were as effective as steel clamps. Over Justin’s taut body, he and I stared at each other. “Hi, honey,” I finally said. “I’m home. Well, almost.”

  A wry grin twisted his lips. “So I see. Funny that the local neighborhood witch gets the call, but I don’t.”

  “Well, my hands were full.” Justin made a strangled sound deep in his throat and I flicked my eyes to my friend before looking up at Damon. “As you can probably tell.”

  “True enough.”

  Colleen murmured to Justin as she shifted her hands, placing both of them over his ribs. The words coming from her were low, making no sense but I doubted they needed to. They were intended to soothe, comfort. She probably wasn’t even aware she was doing it.

  Damon studied me closely, no doubt searching for whatever injuries might be hidden under my clothes.

  “I’m fine.” Now really wasn’t the time to discuss what had happened in Tallahassee, so I went with the safer version. “Busted a few ribs, but they’ve healed. There are some bruises and I’m exhausted and hungry.”

  Damon’s eyes probed mine and I suspected he didn’t entirely believe me, but he didn’t call me on it, either.

  “Finish the job?”

  “No.” I couldn’t keep the disgust out of my voice and my hands tightened on Justin’s shoulders until Colleen had to tell me to ease up. Focusing on a spot on the wall, I thought about just how far left-field this job had gone. The target we’d been assigned to watch was dead. Did that count as finishing?

  Damon quirked a thick, black brow. There would be questi
ons later.

  “Okay,” Colleen said, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “Wounds are closed and he’s stabilized, or as much as he can be since he’s running at about sixty percent of his blood flow. I’m going to have to start an IV.”

  I shot her a look. She held up a blood-stained hand. “I don’t like it either. But it’s nothing more than saline—that’s a fairly natural component and typically, our bodies accept it rather well. If we don’t restore the fluid balance, he’s going to take three times longer to heal.”

  “I should have gotten him here quicker.”

  Damon came up behind me and stroked a hand up my spine.

  “You got him here quicker than anybody could expect.” Colleen shook her head, looking disgusted. “The two of you have to go around chasing trouble.”

  On the bed, Justin groaned, the sound almost nonexistent.

  “The tonic’s worn off,” she said wearily.

  I eased closer, but a soft murmur escaped him.

  I straightened, sliding a look back at Colleen.

  It wasn’t a wordless noise that time. It was her name.

  Her face flushed and she moved in, settling down at his side. “Save your strength, big guy,” she said. “You went and watered half of Alabama with your blood. You need to recover.”

  But he was already asleep.

  I left in silence, Damon falling in step at my side.

  The stone floor echoed hollowly under my feet and I moved on autopilot for a few seconds before realizing I had no idea where to go. I’d gotten inside the walls of the local Red Branch house and we’d immediately been whisked away to the medical ward.

  House was disingenuous.

  Fort was more like it. I had a feeling the end of the world could happen outside these walls and those inside Red Branch would carry on unaffected. They raised their own crops, had their own livestock and didn’t give a damn about anything outside their walls.

  The words self-reliant came to mind.

  Damon stopped next to me and I said levelly, “I have no idea where I’m going.”

  “With me.” He slid a hand down my arm and linked our fingers. “Come on, kitten.”

  Listless, I let him guide me down one hall after another, so turned around now that a trail of breadcrumbs wouldn’t have done me any good at all.

  We ended up in a sizeable room, one with a bed to match and that bed looked like nirvana. I stared at it longingly before searching the rest of the room. There was a door on the far wall, and behind that wall there was a bathroom. I could have whimpered in relief.

  Hearing the faintest noise from Damon, I turned and stared at him. “I need food. I need a shower. I need sleep.” He took another step toward me. “You’re going to have to grill me after that.”

  He came up to me, face impassive. When those big arms came around me, a hundred knots seemed to unravel and I pressed my face against his chest.

  “You, you, you,” Damon rumbled in my ear before pressing his face to my neck. “How about what I need?”

  Weakly, I laughed. “And what do you need?”

  “This. So be quiet a minute.”

  That was easy enough. Just standing there in his arms took away some of the raw edges that last few days had dug into me. When he scooped me up into his arms, I didn’t even protest.

  He shouldered the bathroom door open and I tipped my head back to study him. “If you’re thinking about engaging in some sort of watersports, big guy, I’m not sure I’m up to it.”

  “You can close your eyes and sleep if you want. I don’t mind.”

  My snicker turned into a gasp as he let my lower body drop to the floor, keeping me pressed up against him in a way that made it clear I wasn’t likely to sleep. “If you don’t mind...”

  He smiled against my mouth as he slid his hands under my shirt. It was ruined—stained and ripped and it smelled of swamp water—but that didn’t keep him from stripping it away as though it were made of gossamer. When it fell to the floor, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to the curve of my shoulder.

  “You getting sleepy yet?” he asked after skimming his lips across my torso to my other shoulder.

  Under the sturdy material of the bra I’d pulled on, my nipples were hard and tight.

  Down lower, I was aching.

  No. Sleepy didn’t touch on what I felt.

  “I’m not sure…you aren’t putting much effort into this. I probably should catch some rest.”

  His mouth closed over mine. It took less than thirty seconds for him to deal with my cargo pants and boots and not even that long to maneuver us into the shower.

  I was shoving hair out of my face when he tore off his clothes, right as he turned the shower on, he said teasingly, “You ready to get some rest, Kit?”

  I thought I was going to say something. I had no idea what. But I thought I was going to say something. The words died on the tip of my tongue as he lifted me up and braced me against the wall, thrusting deep, deep into me.

  I felt like I was home.

  Food was waiting in the room when we came out. I was more than a little embarrassed by the fact but clearly, Damon wasn’t.

  Not that I was surprised…by any of it.

  He might as well walk around showcasing the scratches I left on him, he was that proud of them. That somebody might have overheard us in the bathroom didn’t bother him at all. He nudged me toward the bed. “Sit down before you fall down.”

  “I’m not eating in bed.”

  “Wanna bet?” His brows came down in a hard, straight line over his eyes. “You are about ready to fall asleep on your face. How long has it been since you had any real sleep?”

  “A few days.” With an evasive shrug, I made my way over to the bed. I wasn’t even sure when I’d eaten last. I didn’t want to point that out, either.

  His mouth drew into a flat, hard line. “Exactly what all went wrong with this job?”

  “That’s a question.” Bunching the blankets up to my lap, I rubbed at my throat. I’d taken some tonic a witch had offered me earlier—she’d said it would help with the smoke. I’d stared at her blankly and she told me I smelled like smoke and my voice was raw.

  Up until I’d drank the brew, I hadn’t realized how raw my throat was. Now that it was wearing off, I wanted more.

  “Maybe I’ll let you sleep.” He bent over me, braced his fists on either side of my hips. “As long as you take the medicine they brought in for you.”

  I made a face at him. He kissed the tip of my nose.

  “And as long as you agree to tell me once you get some rest.”

  “As long as I get food to go along with whatever poison they are giving me.” Glum, I stared at the simple tin mug they’d put on the tray. I had no doubt it was the brew for my throat. I think it was their way of torturing people. Making the tonics and brews and potions taste like shit. There were herbal remedies that didn’t taste bad. Not that I knew how to make them.

  Damon returned with a plate loaded with vegetables, meat, and cheese. Heavy on the meat. My cat was a big believer in the benefits of protein. Rolling up a slice of cheese and some of the roast beef, I nipped off a bite and accepted the cup he put in my hand. I drained half of it.

  Damon lifted a brow.

  “Better off to get it over with. Is there some water? I feel like I’m dying of thirst.” I was probably dehydrated, considering how hard we had been running.

  I scraped at an itchy spot on my right arm and took another bite. He came back with water, but withheld it until I finished the toxic sludge in the cup. Once I had that down, I guzzled the tall, cold glass of water and then pushed the food away.

  I couldn’t eat any more. I was fighting to keep my eyes open.

  “You need to eat more.”

  “Give me a minute,” I said, the words coming out slurred. Adrenaline had kept me going until Justin and I were safe, but there was nothing left.

  “Yeah, right. You’re about to fall asleep.”

  “Am
not.” But I was.

  And I did.

  Chapter Seven

  Justin no longer looked like death warmed over.

  Now he just looked like he’d been living at a refugee camp for a couple of months.

  Colleen had kept him in bed for hours. I had no idea how she had done it. It was possible she’d tied him to the bed—or threatened to. His eyes were sunken as he glanced up at me from over the rim of the bowl he held.

  He’d lost weight in the past week. Typical for an injured NH who wasn’t able to eat to keep up with the demands being put on his body. He’d powered through his reserves like a kid in a growth spurt, only faster.

  “You look like shit,” he said bluntly.

  “Looked in a mirror lately?” I sat on the edge of the bed. “At least I don’t have shadows under my eyes thick enough to hide in.”

  He started to shrug but stopped with a wince.

  “That hurt?”

  At his baleful look, I just gave him a serene smile. “You had a piece of wood the size of a cue stick inside do you. You might want to take it easy.”

  He flipped me off.

  Behind me, Damon curved his hand over the back of my neck. “Your pretty witch isn’t so pretty today, Kit. Somebody kicked him around a little too hard, I think.”

  “Kiss ass, furface,” Justin said, unperturbed.

  Damon didn’t respond, dropping soundlessly into the chair near the window.

  “It’s so nice to see the two of you getting along. It just warms my heart.” I drew one knee to my chest and rested my chin on it. Focusing my eyes on Justin, I asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I had a piece of wood the size of a cue stick going through me.” He gave me a wry grin. “I never understood just how good it felt breathing until I was drowning in my own blood. Collapsed lung, Kit. I don’t recommend it.”

  “I’ll take that on advisement.”

  He laughed. “How long you been here? You still get your phrases twisted up. You’ll take it under advisement.”

  “I’ve been here long enough to know that the English language is one of the stupidest ones there is. The rules don’t make sense and the phrases are weird. A month of Sundays—what’s that mean? And how about the pronunciations? The words comb and tomb? Fish and pharmacy?” With a roll of my eyes, I shrugged his comment away.