Full Blood (Wyrd Blood Book 2)

by Donna Augustine

  “I don’t know. I get a good read from him. He’s got all this magic and for the most part doesn’t give a shit what anyone does. He didn’t raid the Ruins when he could’ve of. He—”

  “I gotta go.” I grabbed my book and stood, ready to leap from the tower if I had to hear how good Ryker was.

  I tucked the book back into my pants, freeing my hands up as I turned to descend the ladder.

  “Hey, one more thing: have you noticed anyone staring at you weird?”

  I paused, one foot on a rung. “No more than usual. Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged as if he couldn’t quite explain it either. “I don’t know. Sometimes when I’m up here, I’ll catch sight of you, and then I see people looking at you from afar. It happens a lot.”

  “They probably think I’m not only Wyrd, but weird. See yah later.”

  “See you.”

  22

  This was the second dinner being served, and I was one of the last to show up in the food building, by design. There wouldn’t be much food left—or many people. I swung the door open to see the delay had worked. I’d get in, get some grub, and get out.

  I grabbed a plate and made my way down a mostly empty line. There were only a handful of people eating at the tables and only a few guys in front of me, none of whom I recognized.

  I grabbed the last slice of meat left in the tray and a wilted piece of lettuce. I glanced ahead. Two guys that had come with Knife’s crew were left, but there were four biscuits to be had. I’d make myself a nice sandwich.

  I inched forward, as the slowpoke in front of me didn’t seem to like to use his legs much. I wondered when the last time he’d broken past a slow stroll. Plate in hand, I stared at empty dishes while I waited.

  He finally moved, and I reached over to grab a biscuit. The basket was empty. I went up on tiptoes, to see if my biscuit had rolled out of sight into the corner. It hadn’t. I turned and saw Sluggo turning, three biscuits on his plate.

  “Hey!” I said loud enough that Sluggo turned.

  I stepped forward, making sure he knew I was addressing him. “You just took the last three biscuits when you saw me standing behind you. You stole my biscuit.”

  He looked down at his plate, then at me. “I was in line first. They’re my biscuits.”

  Pick your fights wisely. I’d lived by that motto my entire life, and it had kept me alive. But damn, Sluggo had chosen the wrong day to steal my piece of dough. I’d been pushed around too much in the last few weeks and I was ready to hit back.

  “If you don’t give me a biscuit, I’ll be giving you an ass kicking. Your choice.”

  The two guys that had been in line with him were giving me the side-eye. I was a small package, but I was making pretty big threats against a man twice my size. I’d deliver on them, too, magic or not. I had some skills that went beyond Wyrd Blood and plenty of years to size up my competition. I’d run miles around Sluggo before he’d know I was hitting him.

  He handed his plate to one of his buddies, with my biscuit still held hostage, and stepped closer, as if I hadn’t noticed his superior size that was as doughy as my missing bread.

  “I’m not giving you my biscuits.”

  Sluggo’s pudgy fingers approached me; all the time I prayed to the gods of everything magical that he’d do it, he’d give me the excuse I wanted. The offending digits gave me a nudge backward.

  And it was on.

  I grabbed his wrist with both hands, giving him a nice sting as I did. I spun, using his momentum shock to help me pull him forward. He landed on his belly, and I fell forward with him, digging a knee into his spine and giving him another zap. My back was to his buddies, but a glance over my shoulder showed they were still too surprised to move.

  “You going to hand over that biscuit now?” I asked.

  “What the fuck—”

  His words turned into a yelp as I gave him another series of zaps. “That doesn’t sound like it’s going to be the correct answer. Want to try again?” I centered my weight into one spot and twisted. Every time he tried to push up, I zapped him again. Damn, I could do this all night.

  I felt the magic as soon as it preceded the man into the room. The air sizzled around me, and I knew my fun was over before he spoke a word.

  Ryker’s boots came into view. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I said, knee still in Sluggo’s back clear for all to see. The way I figured it, “nothing” didn’t sound any worse than fighting over a biscuit.

  Ryker squatted beside us, his attention on Sluggo. “Why does Bugs feel the need to keep you pinned to the ground?”

  Sluggo coughed. “I don’t know.”

  Yeah, he wouldn’t want to admit he was getting his ass kicked for a biscuit.

  “So you did nothing?” Ryker asked. Sluggo nodded as much as he could with his cheek pressed to the floor.

  Ryker stood. “Let him up.”

  I hesitated for a split second but let Sluggo up. Not because Ryker wanted me to, though. I did it because this was the easiest out. I wasn’t really looking to kill someone over a biscuit, even if I was having a bad day.

  Sluggo jumped to his feet, all smiles, as if he’d won. I wanted to jab him right in the mouth and see how cute he thought he was with bloodstained teeth.

  Then he doubled over, like he’d taken a fist to the gut. Except I hadn’t punched him, and I hadn’t seen anyone else do it either. That left only one person.

  There wasn’t a trace of a smile left as Ryker stepped forward. “I don’t know what Knife has told you about me, or what rumors you’ve heard, but you should believe them. All of them, even the darkest ones whispered when you think no one is listening.”

  Sluggo’s eyes flickered from his friends back to Ryker, and his skin lost its color.

  Ryker looked to Sluggo’s friends as well, making sure they understood this included them, before he continued. “After you get done coming to terms with that, remember that Bugs is off-limits. I don’t tolerate people fucking with what’s mine.”

  Ryker walked out, leaving a frozen Sluggo and friends—and a stunned me. I was about as slow as Sluggo was to get moving, but once I did, I picked up speed fast. I caught up to him not far from the food building.

  “Why did you do that? I had the situation under control. I’d handled it. Now they think I need you.” If my voice was huffy, it was because I’d ran.

  He continued walking. “You hurt his ego. He would’ve come at you when you weren’t expecting it, and more prepared. I made it my fight.”

  “But that’s my point. It’s not your fight. What’s with the ‘Bugs is mine’ bullshit?” I asked.

  He turned off the main path, cutting into the shadows of the buildings. “Simplest way to handle it.”

  “Except it’s not, because I’m not.” This wasn’t the first time he’d pulled this, either. He’d done it with Knife. He thought he could tell me what to do and when to do it. Now he was even stealing my hard-earned fights.

  “You’re one of my people. Same thing.”

  “No, it’s not, and you know that. What will people think?”

  He stopped abruptly. “What’s wrong? Are you worried Knife might hear and retract his offer?”

  If I hadn’t stopped, I would’ve fallen over. “Is that why you did that? Are you trying to back me into a corner?” He would, too. He was the type that would get his way by any method. I had no idea why Ruck had such a high opinion of him.

  “You aren’t going to go with Knife. Tell him. He thinks he’s got a shot.”

  “Because he does.” Yeah, I liked it here, but I liked my magic more. I wasn’t handing it over to anyone willingly.

  He walked toward me, and damned if I’d stay still and let him get to me. If this was a normal fight, it would be different. I didn’t know what this was. It felt off. Ryker looked different. If he hadn’t already turned me down, I would’ve thought he wanted to fuck me or something.

  “Why are you running from me?�
�� he asked as he kept moving forward.

  “I’m not running. I don’t run.” I was walking backward. It was an entirely different thing.

  “Are you suddenly scared of me?” he asked, continuing forward.

  “Never.” I couldn’t have scoffed more if I tried. My scoff runneth over.

  I did add another step back, though.

  He kept coming. I hit the wall. I could run to the side or stand my ground. It was a little late for a stand, but it was better than an all-out trot to the side.

  He took another step forward until my outstretched hand halted his progress.

  “You know as well as I do you don’t want to leave.”

  I could feel his words seep into my hand where it rested on his chest. His magic was winding its way up my arm, wrapping it in delicious warmth inch by inch.

  “That doesn’t matter. I have to do what’s best for me.” And the warm, fuzzy feelings I was having right now didn’t count either. It was like that book had said: our magic was trying to get together to make magical babies or something. It was a trick. Maybe that was why he was acting the way he was? He was falling under the same spell.

  “Staying here”—his voice was rough, and the pressure against my hand increased—“that’s what’s best for you.”

  He was going to kiss me. Holy magic. He was succumbing. Did I fight him?

  I closed my eyes while I debated. If magic wanted us to be together, maybe we should try it out? I wouldn’t commit to babies, but what was a few kisses to see if there was something to it?

  I felt his heat in front of me, and he touched my face, smoothing the hair away. Then he was gone.

  23

  I showed up at the field where we practiced the next morning for two reasons only: I needed answers and I needed things. I was going to get them all. It had nothing to do with him almost kissing me or making me think he would. If anything, that had made me more determined to do what I had to, without any crazy magic messing with me.

  Ryker was already there waiting, arms crossed, feet shoulder width apart. I knew I was on time, but he looked as if I’d shown up an hour late. I walked across the field, stopping out of range of the magic I could feel spiraling around him. Now that I knew what was going on, I’d have to be much more careful.

  Ignoring his mood, I got right to the point. “We need to talk. We’ve tried it your way, and it’s not working. What you call practice is doing nothing. We still don’t know why those people died, and I’m rolling around in the mud every day with no more control than I had. And more than that, we need more stones, and we needed them yesterday. We’re wasting time.” I stopped. That was enough of a mouthful.

  The cords in his neck were ready for strumming. “Where’d you sleep last night?”

  Had I missed something? I glanced around the field, confirming he’d been talking to me. No one else was here. Did he not hear what I’d said? All he cared about was that I hadn’t slept at my place, or the place that had been mine.

  After another second of shock, I finally replied, “What does that matter? Are you not listening to me?”

  He split the difference between us. “Where. Did. You. Sleep? It’s a simple question.”

  “Am I being watched? Again.” It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had me tailed.

  “I was at your door this morning. Where were you?”

  I squinted, and my hands went to my hips as a toe began tapping. I’d opened my mouth to tell him what I thought of his attitude when one of the messenger kids darted into the field and over to hand Ryker a slip of paper. Even I wasn’t barbaric enough to rip into Ryker until the kid left. I was going to be one scary person when I let loose. Might scar the kid forever.

  Ryker read it and then put it in his back pocket. When he looked up, some of the fire that was burning seemed to have been smothered.

  The kid had taken off. I was free to rip into Ryker, go absolutely bonkers. Except why wasn’t he mad now? What was in that note? Whatever it was, it was something interesting for sure.

  I had a choice. Lose my mind or figure out what he knew. “What was that you got?”

  The gleam in his eye was back. “You want to talk about more stones?”

  “Did you get information?”

  He smiled and walked off the field, knowing I’d follow.

  One day, I was going to know everything and then feed it out to him in drips and dribbles. Slow torture by curiosity.

  Burn and Sneak were standing outside Ryker’s place, both looking past Ryker, to me.

  “I see you found her,” Burn said.

  How long had Ryker been looking for me? Ryker didn’t respond other than a slight tip of his head as he entered his place. Sneak went in after.

  Burn followed me. “Been waiting for you. We found some interesting stuff.”

  If Burn and Sneak had been waiting, and Ryker knew that, what was the note about? It hadn’t been about the stone. He’d already had that information.

  I got settled on the couch, a few feet from Ryker, while I stared at his pocket. I was well within range of his magic, but I was more concerned about whether I could pluck that note from his pocket. The very tip of the paper was peeking out. A quick graze of our sides and I’d have it.

  “Ever heard of Cacoy?” Burn asked.

  “Yeah, some island country that’s scary as hell because of all the Wyrd Blood running around it.” I pulled a knee up to my chest and dragged my attention away from my current preoccupation.

  Everyone had heard of Cacoy. I’d seen more than a handful of people make a circling motion over their chests when it was mentioned, as if a silent prayer to magic would grant them protection. I used to tell them to get a big knife instead. They’d have at least a one percent chance of making it if a strong Wyrd Blood got their hands on them.

  No one ever listened, so I’d stopped talking. I’d always found it odd when dulls thought magic would protect them. If it hadn’t liked them enough to give them anything in the first place, why would it come and save them from the ones it had favored?

  Sneak took a seat on the table. “We’re pretty sure we’ve gotten a location of a stone there. Word is a person called Mushroom Man has one.”

  A stone? Would two be enough to kill the Debt Collector? I swung my attention back to Ryker, not certain how many he even had. “Would one more be enough?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but it might.” He tilted his head slightly. “Either way, the more the better.”

  “That’s not all we found.” Burn grabbed a chair and swung it around, leaning his arms on the backrest as he sat. “There’s a book from there with some interesting info on their native plants. It says that they have something called Elibell that only grows there. The seeds from that plant, harvested on a double full moon, purges magic from a person. Conveniently for us, this Mushroom Man also trades in these beans.” He dropped that little bomb and then leaned back to see how big the blast would be.

  Purge? Would I be a dull after this? What did that mean? Magic had sometimes been a nuisance, but it was me. Would my markings go away? Would I still be me?

  I leaned forward. “Purges everything?”

  “That’s not the way it read,” Burn said. “My understanding was that it purges intrusive magic, not native to the taker. It could purge whatever magic the Debt Collector has on you. It could set you free of his hold.” He waved a hand, letting me know there was a but coming. “Of course, there’s always a risk.”

  I glanced at Ryker. He’d understand more than anyone else what the loss of magic meant. Burn and Sneak had magic, but not like Ryker and me. Yes, they’d miss it, but it wasn’t the same. Losing my magic was like someone telling me they were going to hack away a piece of my soul. If my magic was intrinsically linked to my life, maybe it would.

  “What if it takes everything I’ve got?” I asked, knowing Ryker had as much of a vested interest in me retaining my magic as I did. Knowing him, he’d probably say he had more.

  How
many times had I envied dulls, and yet, right now, I wondered if death was the better risk. How did you chance losing something that made you you? I’d never break another ward, or push Ryker, or feel his magic churning against mine. I didn’t know why that was on the top of my list right now, but it had just climbed up a few tiers.

  Ryker leaned a shoulder on the wall and crossed his arms. “It’s your magic. Your risk. Your decision.”

  Now he was diplomatic? The one time I wanted him to be his arrogant and determined self and tell me he knew exactly what should be done, he deferred to me. Yeah, it was my risk, but when had that mattered in the past? Did that mean he would take the risk or not?

  All three of them were staring at me, waiting to see if I was game to try.

  I stood, feeling the need to stretch my legs.

  “You don’t need to do it this way. There’s always merging,” Ryker said.

  I nodded, barely avoiding a snort. Maybe he wasn’t so diplomatic. He simply preferred a different outcome, one that would give him more control than he had now.

  “Knife might’ve heard something about this,” Sneak said. “He’s got at least one man from Cacoy.”

  I spun toward him. “That would make a big difference. If we can up the odds, I’ll take the bean.”

  Ryker’s jaw clenched as his chest expanded with a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s get Knife here. Either way, I’m going to need his man Switch to get to Cacoy.”

  If his body language hadn’t told me he didn’t want to see Knife right now, his magic did. It was getting to the point that I couldn’t not feel it when I was around him. I’d moved closer to the door, trying to get some distance and catch a breeze.

  Ryker glanced at me, his magic following, swelling and building in the room. It was getting worse. It seemed as if when I moved away, his magic chased me down.

  I saw Burn stick a few fingers in his collar and Sneak wipe an arm across his forehead.

  “Who’s Switch?” I asked Burn.

  “He’s a Wyrd Blood who can pop in and out of places. He could be standing here one minute and on the other side of the planet the next. He lives right beyond Dorley’s walls but comes in when he needs protection for whatever reason. Knife tolerates his pop-ins because of his unique talents.”