A Touch of Death

by J. J. Dean

  Nix nods, taking the tracker from Spence and crushing it easily between his fingers. There's a crunch of plastic snapping, and we all watch the orange glow fade to nothing. Nix clamps his hand around it, pulling it out of view. "Alright. I'll run this around just in case. I'll see you both at home."

  He pulls me towards his body and gives me a deeper kiss that has my toes curling in my shoes. I sigh against his lips, wrapping my arms around his waist and sinking into him with effortless ease. Nix pulls away before dropping a sweeter kiss on my lips. He gives me a wink that has butterflies stirring in my belly, and then takes off into the forest with the shattered tracker.

  When Nix disappears, I turn to face Spencer, my cheeks heated and my bottom lip captured by my teeth. The mage's lips twitch, but he doesn't comment on Nix's PDA. He simply holds my hand out for my to take. I do so immediately, and he twines our fingers together. "Let's get you home."

  Spencer hooks his backpack over his shoulder and we make our way through the trees. We walk in comfortable silence, content to walk side by side with only the sound of nature surrounding us. Every now and then, Spencer's thumb will brush my skin softly, sending those butterflies soaring.

  After a little while, Spencer breaks the silence. "How are you feeling?"

  I look over at him before watching where I'm going. "I'm fine. My energy is up, just shy of glow mode. I could do with a shower. Crazy vampire Zayn put a wrench in my plan to take a long shower when he appeared in the bathroom."

  In my peripheral, I catch him comically grimace. He adjusts his hat, a tic I've noticed he does when there's something on his mind. "Sorry about that. We lost him halfway to finding you. I forgot how fast that asshole is on an ordinary day."

  Squeezing his hand briefly, I tell him, "It's fine. I'll just shower when we're home."

  His hand tightens a fraction before it relaxes again, and I feel myself leaning closer to him as we navigate our way through the woods. I hear Spencer inhale, but before he can speak a word, there's a loud snapping of a twig further into the forest. We both freeze, Spencer's hand tightening further around my hand. He tugs me closer to him while scanning our surroundings with a keen eye.

  Keeping his voice to a near whisper, he says, "Stay right by my side."

  Walking even closer until my side is practically suctioned to his, I nod and whisper my agreement. We begin walking again when we don't hear anything else, but Spencer's hand doesn't slacken. With every rustle of the forest, the tension builds.

  All it took was that one startling noise to corrupt the peace and tranquillity of the forest. The shadows look more ominous now, the air seeming to feel chillier than before. There's a hair-raising sensation tickling the back of my neck, causing dread to pool deep in my stomach. Something doesn't feel right.

  Like an echo of my thoughts, Spencer whispers, "Something isn't right."

  Not a second later, there's movement in the air. A high-pitched whirring noise is obnoxious against the quiet of the forest, growing louder at an alarming rate. It’s too late when I see the dart that's aiming for me.

  Spencer spots the dart at the same time. With a faster reaction time, he pushes me out of the way, his body replacing mine. I land ass first on the ground, scrambling to sit up. My eyes catch the weapon flying through the air with such a speed that with one blink, the dart finds itself buried in Spencer's chest. The effect is almost instant.

  Spencer's wide eyes meet mine. With a strained voice, he rasps, "Run, Novia."

  And then he's out cold. His eyes roll to the back of his head, his body dropping to the ground with a heavy thud. I'm left staring at empty space where he once stood.

  I crawl awkwardly towards him, reaching him quickly. I check for a pulse, heaving out a gust of air when I feel the steady pattern in his neck. His breathing is slow and steady, and his face is relaxed in deep slumber. They shot him with a fucking tranq dart. A dart that was meant...

  For me.

  Shit.

  My eyes dart around the forest, panicked and too fast to really take in my surroundings. My pulse quickens, and a sinking feeling plummets down on me like a boulder from a cliff top. I sit back on my heels, pressing a hand to Spencer's chest and listening for anything out of the ordinary.

  The sound of feet shuffling across foliage has my spine stiffening, and that dread in my stomach expands until I feel physically sick. I can hear more than one set of footsteps moving through the forest around me, and my head drops to Spencer's chest.

  When my head rises next, I'm surrounded.

  Stepping out from between the trees are several men in head to toe black tactical gear. From their combat boots and thick gloves to the caps on their heads and the bandanas that cover the lower half of their faces, there's not an inch of skin on display. Each man is wielding a black rifle, tucked against their chests with iron grips. This is just great. After the effort I went through to get rid of that stupid fucking tracking device, and they found me anyway. Of course they did.

  Subtly, I move closer to the downed mage while watching the mercenaries as they form a circle around me and Spence. I stand slowly, keeping my ankle pressed against Spencer's side just to make sure I know he's still there. I keep my hand out to absorb as much of the sun's energy as I can until I'm on the brink of glowing before lowering it to my side, replenishing the energy I used to heal myself. One of the men surrounding me tilts his head a fraction, the movement just enough for me to catch it.

  Loud, obnoxious clapping breaks the silence that suddenly cloaks the forest now that the tiny army around me. My head snaps to the direction it's coming from, and without putting much thought into it, I glamour Spencer. With a quick glance down, I see an invisible spot where Spencer should be, but the feel of his body against my ankle assures me he's still near.

  My eyes meet the man with the tilted head briefly, and I watch as his eyes dart to the invisible space and back to me. I can feel my eyes widen in fear. He's going to give Spencer away. Panic claws at me, but I lock it down, steeling my spine against what's to come.

  The clapping gets louder until the very bane of my existence walks out from the trees, through the gap the men have made, and stands a few feet away from me. Davis drops his hands to his hips. There's a smirk on his face that sends a shudder down my spine, but I don't react. I remove all emotions from my face and stare at the man that had a big hand in my suffering over the years of my captivity.

  "Hey there, pet," he sneers, his scar contorting in a way that does nothing but paint me with a brush of terror. I keep my silence, watching his eyes grow irritated. He crosses his arms over his chest and narrows a sinister glare on me. A chill slithers down the back of my neck, and it takes all I have not to wrap my arms around my middle and curl into myself. I'll be damned six ways to Sunday if I let this asshole have that kind of power over me again. Five years of torture is more than enough. I won't break a second time. Fuck fear. Fuck that facility that brought me to my knees and gutted me in the process. And fuck this bastard who thinks I'll cower like I did before.

  They may have taken my people from me, may have stripped me of my family, but what they don't know is I still have something to fight for. I have a home. I made my own family. I have people who care for me, and I will not lose that for the likes of this human.

  It's time to start fighting.

  Anger churns in my stomach as fury rushes through my veins. No more will they steal all that matters in my life. My life is my own, and I will not be ruled by power-hungry monsters.

  With a newfound purpose and a flame burning deep within me, I brush off the fear like a tattered, old coat. It's liberating. Finally, I feel truly free. Regardless of what happens next, I’ve found freedom and a backbone made of titanium.

  I back away from Spencer slowly, keeping the glamour in place to keep him hidden. I step further back until I'm closer to the ring of mercenaries than I am to Davis, keeping my eyes on him at all times. He watches me in return with a predatory gaze, his eyes as sharp as mine,
tracking every movement I make.

  Crossing my arms over my own chest, I stand and wait for his next move.

  "Finally grew some balls, huh?" he taunts, a smirk plastered on his hideous face.

  I smirk in return, relishing the way his eyes flare with anger and hatred. "An iron set of ovaries, more like. Balls are weak. All it would take is one kick to the sac, and you'd end up winded and down onto the floor wailing like a little bitch."

  Surprise takes over his face before an unflattering shade of red creeps up his neck and face. Fury has veins straining in his neck, and if I look closely enough, I can see his temple throbbing. "Grew a mouth on you too, I see. That's fine. We'll knock that shit right back out of you soon enough."

  I openly grin at him. I've just found my backbone. If he thinks he's going to rip it out of me when I finally just found my own two feet to stand on, this is going to be very disappointing for him. It's going to take a hell of a lot to break me this time. I have everything to live for.

  "Just figured it's not worth my energy being afraid of you. You're nothing but a weasel with a god complex. Good luck knocking anything out of me this time. I survived five years when life wasn't worth living. Let’s see what you can do when I have everything to live for."

  "You little bitch." His face reddens further, and he snarls at me before stepping forward. He makes to move another step forward when I don't flinch, but the man behind him clears his throat. Davis stops and inhales deeply, loud enough for me to hear. It gives me the smallest rush knowing I'm getting to him. It's the first time I've managed to talk back without the fear of punishment afterwards. I know it's coming, and he'll retaliate. But the fear is absent. Maybe that makes me stupid more than brave, but right now I could care less.

  These assholes won't win a second time.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  Chapter 30

  Novia

  "Sir, we should leave," says the man behind Davis before the bastard himself can open his mouth again.

  Davis seems to rein himself back in and nods, eyeing me like he'd love nothing more than to make me sorry for not cowering before him. He'll be waiting a long time before that ever happens again.

  He moves until he's only a short distance away from me, not close enough to touch, but close enough that he could lunge at me in an instant. I can hear his teeth grinding from here, see his jaw clench in anger.

  "You're right. The Boss will be expecting us very soon." He walks closer, and my spine stiffens further. I may not be afraid of him, but I sure as shit don't trust him. Davis stops three feet in front of me.

  With no warning at all, a splitting pain in my cheek has me almost stumbling to the floor while my head and vision grow temporarily fuzzy. My head snaps painfully to the left from the backhand Davis lashes out with, knocking a small gust of air from my mouth with the hit. I can feel blood trickling from a spot high on my cheek that's particularly sore. When I slowly move my head back in place, I find Davis wiping a ring on his middle finger.

  Three guesses what tore through my cheekbone with that slap.

  "See how much of smartass you are when you're locked away in another cage without your family in the next cage over. There's more where that came from, pet. We'll break you again, I can assure you of that," he gloats, tucking the handkerchief with my blood coated on it in his pocket.

  I suppress the rage that comes from him ever muttering a single word about my family, plastering a passive look on my face. With a voice as monotone as I can make it, I tell him, "You'll regret placing a single finger on me. I can assure you of that. Every bruise, cut, or mark you inflict will be returned tenfold. You might want to rethink your pathetic plans of torture."

  When he snorts, I pull my mouth up into a grin.

  "By all means, continue with whatever ideas your sick, twisted little mind is planning. You'll regret every idea, though. That much I can promise." The blood drips down my cheek and falls to the grass below. I look down at the deep red liquid, my mouth pulling up further still. I'm sure I look a little crazed, but fuck it. Maybe it'll unbalance him enough to realise he's not going to have such an easy job after all. "Every drop of my blood will cost you, Davis. And I can't wait for the moment where you have to pay up."

  Once again, his hand darts out, only it's not for the backhand I expected. Instead, his rough hand wraps around my throat and squeezes tightly. "You'll relearn your place soon enough, pet. I think I'll enjoy this more than the last time."

  Movement just behind Davis has my eyes darting to where the man who'd tilted his head at me has appeared. The man's head rises, and a set of violet irises meet my blue and green. I'm quick to stifle my reaction, shock racing through my body. It's the stranger who disabled the stupid tracker. I don't know why I'm surprised since I already knew he was on the wrong side.

  The stranger’s shakes his head slightly, and he looks at the back of Davis' head before looking back at me. Is he wanting me to keep our interaction a secret? Is that what that look was?

  Davis' hand grows tighter around my throat, and breathing suddenly becomes a lot more difficult to do. He yanks me closer and growls, "You'll fear me more than you ever had before. One look will have you trembling before me."

  I don't know how I manage it, but a snort escapes me. His hand loosens enough for me to choke out, "Keep your pretty delusions, you prick. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

  Davis shoves me roughly back, losing hold on me while pushing me into one of the men behind me. Hands clamp down on my arms, keeping me upright and steady. The hold isn't aggressive or confining, simply helping me keep my balance. Davis doesn't notice, scowling at me with a snarl that pulls at his scar again. "Cuff her and get her to the truck. We're late."

  With those parting words, he turns on his heel and storms toward where I assume the aforementioned truck awaits. Most of the men surrounding me follow after Davis, but the violet eyed stranger stays behind with the man holding me in place. He pulls the black bandana away from his mouth, revealing his entire face to me.

  I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head again, watching me carefully. With his eyes still trained on mine, the man behind me leans closer and whispers in my ear, "I need you to trust me."

  As the man behind me talks, the man in front of me moves his mouth to the words that are being whispered in my ear. I turn my head to look at the stranger who still has his hands wrapped around my arms, but the bandana covers the lower half of his face while a pair of dark tinted glasses block his eyes from view.

  I turn to face the stranger again, finding him watching me intently. The man behind me leans closer again, whispering in my ear, "I know this doesn't look good, but I'll explain when I can. I need you to trust me, Novia. Even if only a little bit. I'm not the bad guy."

  Once again, the stranger before me moves his lips to the words, though no sound leaves him. Only my captor's voice can be heard. What the hell? Weirder still is the same familiar feeling rushing through my chest, the one I'd experienced when I first met the stranger . I don't fear this man, and I don't feel like I should fear him. There's a sense of safety about him that I'm not inclined to look into given that he works for Davis and the shitshow he's directing.

  Before I can form a response, Spencer groans on the floor. He's still shrouded in a glamour, thankfully still invisible to anyone who looks over at where he's lying. Whispered words behind me say, "We need to leave before the mage wakes up. Please trust me, Dusty."

  When Spencer makes another noise, I nod quickly. Trusting this stranger seems a lot safer than sticking around until Spencer wakes up, and shit hits the proverbial fan. It helps that the stranger helped me with the tracker before, though that turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. I guess he’s earned some trust.

  The man behind me gently prods my back, urging me forward. I go willingly but stop when we get close enough to the enigma of a man. When I'm close enough, I quietly tell him, "If you have a pen and paper on you, I'd appreciate it if you
left a message for him to find. You're asking for a lot, and all I ask is that you do this one small thing for me in return."

  He nods slowly, pulling out a tissue and pen, scribbling the small message on the surface. Before he reaches Spencer, he turns and raises his eyebrow and I drop the glamour. My abductor neatly folds the tissue and tucks it into Spencer’s hand. It's then I realise he didn't sell me out. He didn't breathe a word about my mage lying unconscious on the floor. Why? Who the fuck is this guy?

  I'm being guided through the forest before I can think to question the stranger out loud. The walk to the truck is quick, the hold on my arm firm but not bruising. As soon as we reach the truck, cuffs are slapped onto my wrists, and I'm being gently nudged into the back. My foot catches on a rock sticking out of the uneven path, but a hand shoots out to steady me again before helping me into the truck.

  Just as my ass settles on the unforgivingly cold bench in the back of the truck, the man who'd whispered in my ears removes his glasses. He looks behind himself before turning to face me again. I inhale sharply when the same set of deep purple eyes meets my wide gaze. What. The. Fuck?

  He tugs the bandana down, revealing a dimpled smirk. It's definitely the same guy. But how? What? I don't understand. The guy gives me a wink when all I can seem to do is stare at the scruff lining his jaw, the blonde hair peeking out under the ball cap he's wearing, and the eyes that resemble an amethyst crystal.

  He leans in close and whispers, "I've got your back, Dusty. Though you might find it hard to believe right now."

  He moves back after giving me a small grin, but before he can shut the door, I find my voice. Keeping it low, I blurt, "Wait! If I'm trusting you, surely I need your name. You know mine. Fair's fair."

  The stranger nods like it's a completely logical argument and leans in close again. When he's close enough, he whispers, "The name's Quinn Savan. I'll be seeing you soon, Novia Sage Bourne. Don't forget: Trust me."