“Falk. Muggle words,” I snapped, starting to get irritated that I couldn’t understand.
He met my gaze. A barghest is a demonic, shapeshifting dog. Hellhounds are bounty hunters for hire. They usually have a pack of them to acquire their target.
“Tell me you’re joking.” It was starting to get hard to breathe through my tight chest.
He shook his head. I wish I could. Someone is trying to get their hands on you.
The shaking got worse. “Why?”
Maybe it’s your connection to Evelyn?
I nodded as I fought to take a deep breath. “What do I do?”
Don’t get caught, he signed.
Things started to spin.
I’ll fix this, Corrina. Until then, I’ll keep you safe.
I would have answered but things started to tilt. He noticed, reached out, and held my neck. He met my eyes and took a deep breath. I copied him, breathing in that ozone scent. He helped the world stop spinning, but there was nothing to do for being scared.
“How did they know where I was?” I whispered.
His face grew hard as his thumb stroked my jawline before dropping. I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.
I nodded and sat back in my seat, pulling my cardigan closed against the chill that hadn’t left me since the bathroom. Bounty hunters…hellhounds…after me. Okay, don’t panic. I can handle this. I have my self-defense gear again; I can scream loudly, and I’m not afraid to defend myself.
Falk dug into his bag and pulled out a teal lap blanket. He handed it to me. Surprised, I took it with limp fingers. He picked up a blanket? My heart warmed a little. I tried to smile my thanks as I opened it and covered myself. Leaning back in my seat, I watched the countryside go by. And reassured myself that I could handle it.
An hour later, I had relaxed and calmed down.
Falk got to his feet and stepped into the aisle. Restroom.
I nodded that I saw him before he headed down the car. He scowled as he saw how small it was. I bit back a smile as he stuffed himself inside.
A man got out of his seat further down and came up the aisle. He actually sat down in Falk’s seat. “Are you traveling with your boyfriend?” He smiled a charming smile.
Stunned, I didn’t know how to answer. “Um, no,” I said, trying to be friendly What the hell was he doing here?
“Personally, I’d rather take a train instead of fly any day,” he chuckled. “I’m Evan.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Can you leave now?
“I’ve got a business meeting in Savannah tonight,” he said confidently. “And of course, I need to be back tomorrow for another one, so I can’t drive.”
I smiled and nodded. Then, hoping he’d get the hint, I pulled a magazine out of the back of the seat in front of me.
He reached over and touched my hand. “I’ll be getting off the train and having breakfast when we get”—his thoughts poured into my head—“She’d probably open those long legs if she knew how much money I make. All these beautiful bitches are really looking for a rich man to take care of them. Would you like to join me?” His eyes ran over me, lingering over my breasts.
“No, thank you.” My skin crawled as I pulled away from his hand and went back to my magazine, my stomach rolling.
“Are you sure?” He tried again. “We could have breakfast at the Hilton. Bend you over the table and screw your brains out.”
I mentally cursed, put the magazine back, and scooted as far away from him as I could. I crossed my legs, and my arms over my chest, then pretended to be looking out the window.
Telepathy sucked. Whenever I touched someone or they touched me, I got a glimpse into their heads. Sometimes even after they stopped touching me, I could still hear their thoughts. The only way to make it stop was distance, and we were stuck on a train. Try dating when you know exactly what the other person thinks of you; it was rarely flattering.
He frowned, straightened his shoulders, and took the hint. He got to his feet and headed back to his seat.
A heartbeat later, the bathroom door opened. Falk pried himself out and headed back down the aisle. He stopped at our row and sat down. Feeling his gaze almost like a touch, I looked up at him. He raised an eyebrow. I glanced at Evan’s back, then back to Falk.
His jaw clenched as he looked down the aisle toward the businessman. He turned back to me. What happened?
His thoughts were disgusting, I signed.
Falk turned and sent a murderous glare down the aisle that I swear would have made Evan piss his pants if he’d seen it. Hell, it wasn’t even directed at me and I had to exercise a little control. He turned back to me. Get some sleep, we have a long way to go.
Falk
“How clean was that bathroom?” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and looked up at me.
Clean, but cramped. You’ll fit better though, I signed, not liking how wide her eyes had been when I turned back to her.
Her lips lifted a little to a half-grin; it wasn’t much, but I’d take it. I got to my feet so she could get out and head down the aisle. I sat back down, watching as she moved to the far side of the aisle when she passed that man. Rage boiled inside me as she went into the bathroom.
How disgusting were his thoughts to make her react that way? Make her feel that way? I was sure I didn’t want to know. In fact… I surveyed the car; it was just us and the human. Good. I got to my feet and moved down the aisle. When I reached him, I grabbed him by the throat. His eyes bulged. Instead of speaking, he gargled. Barely keeping myself from breaking his neck, I lifted him and carried him to the front of the car. He struggled, kicking and punching at me. His foot hit the bathroom door as I carried him into the front of the car, still gurgling. That cold place I usually went to when I killed disappeared, leaving white-hot rage coursing through my veins. He shouldn’t have even been thinking those things about her! I reached the door to the outside of the train. I reached down and broke the handle.
A small, feminine gasp sounded behind me as I pulled the door open. The man’s eyes were wide as he clung to my hand. I threw him outside and watched as he tumbled down into the lake we were crossing over. My rage cooled down. He’d live. I slammed the door shut again before turning around.
Rina’s face was pale, her mouth open, her breathing shallow. Her wide eyes were on me, fear shining through clearly. I scared her. A deep ache filled my chest. It shouldn’t matter; this was about her being comfortable…but it did. It mattered to me. Fuck! Her fingers trembled as they wrung together. I could see it all on her face, just as I had seen on hundreds of others. I was a killer. A murderer. I was all that and much worse than she knew. Or ever would know. I took a step towards the cabin. She backed up into the metal wall, her hands going behind her as if to hold onto something. As if I’d ever throw her off. Not able to take that look anymore, I signed: I timed it so he’ll live without injuries.
Her gaze went to the door then back to me, as if deciding whether to trust me or not. Some of the color warmed her face again. Her eyes were full of shadows as she looked at me. “Why?”
Why? Did she really need to ask? Someone had fucking tried to take her! Then that jerk had disgusting thoughts about her that she heard…why else? Let’s go back to our seats.
She eyed me. Then swallowed hard before walking back into the train car. She took her seat and covered herself with the blanket while not looking at me. I shouldn’t care. There was no reason to, other than she was my match. She shifted until she was leaning back, curled up and watching the world go by out the window.
I raised my body temperature, hoping to help her to sleep while she rubbed her temples. Eventually, her eyelids began to droop and she fell asleep.
Good, she needed it. There was a bounty on her. Murderous rage pumped through me in time with my pulse. When I found them, they’d be begging for mercy long before I was done. But right now, I needed to focus.
I pulled out my phone and tried to text Zahur to warn him that bounty hunte
rs were in the field. Only I couldn’t get a signal. What the fuck? I tried the Wi-Fi on the train but there wasn’t even a server registering. I put my phone away and looked out the window.
A lightning storm raged overhead. Oddly silent. No thunder. Just lightning. It must be making electronics glitch or something. Perfect. I needed to find a landline and hope that worked. I looked down at her.
Rina’s face was soft, her lashes dark crescents against her cheeks. Why would someone put a bounty on Rina? She was a strong telepath, but how strong? I didn’t know. But it was most likely her connection to Evie. Evie…
She shifted in her sleep, the blanket dropping off her shoulder. Absently, I reached over and covered her again as I followed the thought. Evie had a treaty with the Witch’s Council in Chicago. Why wouldn’t she have sent Rina to them instead of teaching her herself? The question ate at me. Didn’t Evie say that she sent anyone with abilities their way? Had I heard wrong? It’s possible, but I doubted it.
Rina shifted in her sleep, muttering. “Stupid dogs…stop barking…”
As she settled down again, I shifted my gaze to look out the window. I needed to get my thoughts in order. How did they find her? Tracking signal? No, everything she had was soaked, it would have stopped working. Tracking spell? Maybe, but that would leave traces of magic on her and I’d feel it. The barghest had tagged her with a magical LoJack; that I knew. That handprint was only going to get worse. At least until we could get it removed or the hellhound died. But that was for later.
That left only one way. Someone was following her. I clenched my fist as the need to find and rip them apart battered at me. I settled in for the day and started coming up with a plan.
Zahur
Cursing, I hung up. Why the hell was Helix finding so many problems? Luckily, a Templar was walking by.
“You!” I barked. The young man turned a little pale. “It looks like there’s a possessed human nest in an empty building on Fifty-First. Meet the Redcaps at Washington Park and they’ll tell you where to find them.”
“Yes, sir.” He took off down the hallway.
I was about to go back to Evie’s room when the phone rang. Again. I cursed in Egyptian and answered, “Yeah?”
“This is the head of the Witch’s Council, Dahlia. Is this Zahur?” a professional, friendly voice asked.
For crying out loud. “Yes, that’s me. What do you need?” And make it fast.
“I’ve got a witch missing,” she announced. “Astrid gave me your number and said one of your gargoyles would fill in. Was she wrong?”
I ran my hand down my face. Son of a… “No, she was correct.” With Astrid and Ranulf gone with the wolves, I was the only one left. “What’s happened?”
“One of my witches hasn’t been to work, isn’t answering her phone, or is even at home. She’s missing. It was probably the vampires,” she stated as if it was a fact.
“Listen, I’ll be happy to look into it, but at the moment, I’m taking care of Evelyn. I have your number. I’ll call you when I have a chance.” I hung up the phone and went back inside to check on them both.
Sweat was rolling off Evie’s flushed face. My shoulders tightened as I checked her temperature. Hot; too hot. This shouldn’t be happening; she shouldn’t be getting ill.
“What is going on?” Atticus growled from the end of the bed.
“I’m not sure.” I opened her shirt enough to check the burn on her chest. No, it was healing with no signs of infection.
“How could you not know?”
I sat on the side of the bed and carefully pulled up the shirt Atticus had put her in until I could see the bandage on her side. Atticus paced as I began to remove it. I cursed. The wound was red and swollen. The stitches bulging. Her veins were black and starting to turn red as they moved away from the wound. Infection.
“What’s wrong?”
“She has an infection.” I got up, went into the bathroom and got more towels. “Go to the medical wing and tell them you need a sterile debridement kit. And enough saline to flush a large wound.”
Atticus took off at a run. God help anyone who got in his way. I laid the towels around her and pulled on my gloves. Carefully, I placed my hands around the wound. The heat coming off it warmed my hands. I cursed in my native language again. How had I missed this? I felt the area around the stitches and felt the fluid under her skin. Shit. I’d need to open her stitches. While I waited for the kit, I drew up a dose of antibiotics and gave it to her quickly. I was putting away the vial when Atticus slammed the door open and ran in. I took the kit and set up what I needed.
“I’ll need to cut open her stitches and irrigate the wound,” I warned Atticus. It wasn’t going to be pretty.
He growled in his chest but I ignored it. Carefully, I used the scissors and forceps to cut and remove the thread. The wound opened as if grinning at me. I cursed under my breath and I began flushing it with sterile saline. Thick, pink, foul-smelling liquid began to flush out of the wound. I made sure to catch it with the towels.
“I thought you cleaned that out already!” Atticus bit out as he paced on the other side of the bed.
“I did,” I said in a calm voice. “But she got an infection anyway.”
Her hands clenched and unclenched as her face grew pinched.
“Atticus, hold her hands.” I filled another syringe with saline. The last thing we needed was for her to wake up and take a swing at me now.
Atticus sat at the head of the bed and took his wife’s hands in his. He leaned down and whispered in her ear as I kept cleaning out her wound. The original wasn’t that deep, but the more I irrigated, the deeper it showed me, the more worried I became. She shouldn’t be bleeding this much or have this much discharge. It shouldn’t be eating at tissue…
While Atticus was distracted, I examined the black veins and decomposing tissue. It had to be more than an infection; whatever this was, was necrotic. And fast-acting. I focused on flushing her side until the saline ran clear. Then I took out a swab and got a good sample. I closed the cover before packing the wound with gauze instead of stitching it this time. She’d need a drain but thankfully, the area around it looked better already. I finished up with her, took off my gloves and turned to Atticus. “We’re moving her to the medical wing.”
His head snapped up, eyes harsh. “Why?” He moved off the bed, grabbed my shirt, and lifted me off my feet.
I hung passively as I tried to get through to him. “She needs a drain and I want monitors on her.”
His bloodshot eyes were tortured as he set me down; bags under them hung like bruises. The white stubble on his face was thicker than I’d ever seen, his hair in disarray from running his fingers through it. With his wrinkled dress shirt and blood-stained slacks…he didn’t look like Atticus anymore.
“Atticus!” I snapped, making him focus on me again. “I know you’re struggling just to get through the next minute. I’ve been there. But you have to keep a level head for her.”
He swallowed hard and nodded. Atticus was barely holding it together. And with the paleness of his skin, it was looking like I’d need to put him on a drip soon. He went to her bedside and pulled back the blankets.
“Come on, luv.” He slipped his arms under her and lifted her to cradle her against his chest. She made a small, pain-filled whimper as she settled against his shoulder. He pressed his lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
I picked up my bag and held the door for him. When we reached the ward, I held the door again. “Put her in bed three.” The ward was dimly lit and practically abandoned. A thick layer of dust coated the nurses’ station.
I set my bag down, then turned on the light and monitors on the wall. Atticus gently laid his mate on the thankfully dust-free bed, then carefully pulled the blankets out from under her. He covered her while I found the disposable pads for the heart monitor. I did a double take. These were old. At least five years old. No one made this design anymore. I hooked them up to th
e monitor and placed the pads on her. They barely stuck to her skin. Her heartbeat began to beep on the monitor. Atticus brushed the sweaty hair from her face as he sat on the side of her bed.
It didn’t take me long to find the supply closet and get what I needed. I went back to Evie’s bedside, took off the bandage, fitted her with a drain, then mostly stitched her wound closed. I placed icepacks around her to try and bring her fever down.
“Watch her closely.” Dread filled my chest as I rushed across the ward to the medical lab. The wing was empty but the lab wasn’t. I found a young Templar reading a medical journal as I walked in.
He set it down as I scanned the lab for what I needed. “You must be Dr. Zahur.”
“Where’s your incubator?” I demanded, skipping the pleasantries.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. We haven’t had one since I’ve been here.”
I eyed him. That was ridiculous. Even though we’d been out of touch for years, our funding still came through for the Templars like clockwork. He had to be wrong. I set my bag on the counter and started walking through the lab. As I walked, I noticed other things. Most of the equipment was ten years out of date. Some was missing altogether, like the incubator. The more I searched, the angrier I became. I strode back to the Templar. “Where the hell is all the equipment?”
The Templar shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to get an updated lab for months now, and all I’m told is it’s not in the budget.”
Not in the budget? We’ll see about that. I walked back into the hospital wing. Cyrus would have already put the word out that our squad was rogue, but that wouldn’t matter to several gargoyles, and I knew exactly which ones. Only my phone wouldn’t connect. What the…? I tried again, only to get nothing. Cursing, I moved around the nurses’ desk and found the landline.
“So, it’s Cyrus’s most -wanted number two,” Charles chuckled in my ear as he answered on the second ring. “To what do I owe the honor?”
Run Page 5
