by Jami Gray
Unwilling to miss the other man still hunting, she choose not to Shadow Walk. Either he would come to investigate the gunshot or run. Gripping the unfamiliar knife, she crept back home.
Five long minutes later, she hit the edge of the forest. The wound in her side burned like a brand, but she didn’t have time to deal with it. Working her way behind the garage, she headed to the creek to see if the car the three-man team arrived in was still there.
The night sounds had yet to return to normal, which made her hesitate. The third man had to be nearby. As she started to creep forward, the hair on the back of her neck rose in alarm. The slight warning gave her just enough time to raise a circle of protection. The incoming spell hit her circle, then flared over it.
No human could do that. The third attacker had to be Kyn.
Curling her left hand around the silver lynx at her throat, she drew on her magic, readying herself. Peering around the edge of the garage, she ducked back as a streak of fire scorched the side of the building. If she couldn’t see, she couldn’t aim.
The sound of car door opening had her darting out from behind the dubious protection of the wooden structure. The dim outline of a small, dark truck gave her a target. Rushing her shot, she sent an energy spell in its direction.
She missed and hit the ground behind the fleeing vehicle. The explosion rocked the truck, but the sound of the vehicle being slammed into gear, told her she wasn’t going to catch him. She charged toward the creek, hoping for a second chance, but the flash of taillights was the only thing she caught.
Frustrated, she turned away and slowly trudged toward her house. The rage and adrenaline faded, leaving only dull pain and exhaustion behind. Tremors racked her body, but she had to hold it together. She needed to call Mulcahy and take care of the two bodies out back. Only then could she patch up her wound, which had turned into a constant biting ache.
Remembering the locked front door, she cursed, then staggered unsteadily to the back and stumbled up the porch stairs.
Was that her phone ringing? Who the hell was calling her now?
Undoing her protection ward, she stepped into her house and headed into the kitchen to answer it. She clenched her fist to keep her blood-covered hand from shaking. Grime coated her hand.
Was that flesh under her nails?
“McCord,” she said in a voice sounding nothing like hers. She slumped against the kitchen table, and tried to concentrate.
“Raine, are you okay?”
She didn’t recognize the male voice on the other end. “Who is this?”
“Cheveyo. Are you all right?”
“Well—” Hearing the raspy tone of her voice, she cleared her throat. “I am now. Why do you ask?”
“Did you have any visitors tonight?”
“Yes.”
Cheveyo was silent for a moment. “Are they still there?”
A short, harsh bark of laughter erupted, then it ended in a groan. “In a manner of speaking.”
“How many?” his voice was strained.
“One got away. The other two are going to be around for a while.” Why was he calling her? What was the point of his questions? She collapsed into a chair, the burning pain of the bullet wound turning her legs to Jell-O. Damn it, iron or not, it was just a bullet. It shouldn’t hurt this bad.
So caught up in analyzing the pain, she missed his next question. “I’m sorry. Say that again.”
“Raine, what happened?”
She could’ve sworn she’d heard Gavin’s name in Cheveyo’s terse comments. Putting her head down on the table, she closed her eyes, and griped the phone to her ear. “One of them shot me,” she mumbled. “I’ll be fine. I just need to rest for a second before I take care of the bodies.”
“I’m coming over.” His voice grew fainter.
“’Kay.” As waves of pain and darkness rolled her under she lost her grip on the phone. Then there was nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Searing flames consumed her bones and muscles. Her skin popped in the intense heat as the fire devoured the darkness.
She jolted awake with a shriek.
Panic spiked as hands held her down. She struck out blindly, determined to escape. Something growled and panted—like an animal caught in a trap—and she realized, distantly, it was her. A voice close by called her name, telling her to calm down, that she was okay.
She raked her nails down the arms attached to the hands on her shoulders. Above her someone cursed, while someone else gave a low laugh.
“Damn it, Raine!” The harsh words broke through her terror bringing recognition—Cheveyo.
A hard shudder wracked her body. Jerking her hands back, she fisted them as she fought to regulate her breathing. Forcing her eyes open, she stared into Cheveyo’s deep black ones.
“Let me go!” The words tore at her sore throat, leaving her voice rough.
“Gladly.” Anger shaded his face in grim shadows. “Just as soon as you calm down. You’ll pull open your wound.” He leaned over her, his hair falling forward. He pushed it out of his face. “Now, will you please lay still?”
Giving him a slow nod, she watched him back slowly away.
Cheveyo’s caution was almost amusing, he was treating her like a wild animal.
A slight movement drew her attention to a man standing quietly behind him. Standing roughly six feet tall, there wasn’t much to set him apart from the crowd—brown hair, equally dark eyes—but the electric tingle skipping over her nerves as he closed in, certainly did. He was a Lycos, and based on her reaction, very powerful shifter. That aura of power triggered an unexpected response from some unacknowledged part of her.
A snarl surged up from her chest and erupted from behind her clenched teeth before she could stop it. She scrambled into a sitting position, ignoring the pain streaking through her side.
The man stopped in mid-stride, watching her, his brown eyes calm.
Cheveyo stepped between them. “Raine, are you okay?”
She could almost hear the pop as she and the stranger broke eye contact. Glancing around, she realized she was in her own bed. Taking a breath, she went to rub her face only to catch sight of the smeared blood on her hand, topped with fresh blood from Cheveyo’s arms. The night’s events came back with a rush.
“I don’t know.” Actually, she did. She was far from okay. Not that Cheveyo or the stranger behind him would understand.
Tonight she freed a part of what her nature typically chained deep, an aspect closer to a wild animal than either man could ever suspect. She began reinforcing her mental walls, hoping to rein it in, but it fought back, refusing to retreat. Taking deep breaths, she patched her identity back together, not daring to let Cheveyo know just how close she was to losing it. What if she couldn’t cage this aspect of herself—the part that thrilled to the hunt, to the kill? Her walls trembled so she shoved her doubt aside. A few breaths later, she could at least fake normal.
The shifter stepped forward, jerking her out of her thoughts. “My apologies, Ms. McCord, for the pain my bringing you back to consciousness caused. We wouldn’t have done so if it wasn’t important.”
His pleasant baritone only put her more on edge and there was a knowing light in those dark eyes, as if he could see right through her flimsy façade. “Sorry, it’s been a long night, Mr…” she trailed off, unsure what threat he brought.
He gave a short, elegant bow. “Vidis, Warrick Vidis.”
She froze. Warrick Vidis was the head of the shifters—definitely not the social type. Acknowledged as the most powerful shifter in the Kyn community, he wasn’t one to interfere in the business of other Kyn. He served next to Cheveyo, Mulcahy, and Natasha only because the other shifters wanted a representative who could hold his own when it came to the machinations of the supernatural community.
According to Chet, one of the closest friends she had in the shifting community, Vidis was a power to be reckoned with. He was generally fair and even-handed in his dealings—un
til you crossed him. At which time you best have your grave dug, because what little he left would need a resting place.
What the hell was he doing here in her house with Cheveyo? Deciding to ask, she said, “Mr. Vidis, I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?”
His smile changed his face from average to charming. “I was with Cheveyo when he called you. I have some ability in healing, and we thought I might be of some use to you.”
“You dropped the phone,” Cheveyo told her. “I tried yelling, but when you didn’t answer, we headed over.” His sharp scrutiny scoured her face as he perched precariously on the edge of her bed. “You were passed out on the table.”
“I remember talking to you on the phone,” she said softly. “I needed to rest for a second before heading back out to—” she hesitated, slicing a look at Vidis. “Take care of things.”
Vidis’s smile flared briefly, his tone gently mocking, “No need to be delicate. I can handle it, I assure you.”
She bet he could, but sharing such things with a virtual stranger was disconcerting. Especially when both men chose to hover over her. She glanced around. “Please have a seat, Mr. Vidis. There should be a chair somewhere nearby.”
He rocked forward, but checked the movement before it completed. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to finish healing the wound on your side.”
She stifled the urge to glance at Cheveyo, uncertain what about the shifter made her so nervous. Mortified at her uncontrolled responses, she could only nod. Cheveyo moved aside and Vidis took his place.
Turning on to her left side, she exposed the bullet wound, thankful she still wore her running pants and sports bra. Having these two men in her house left her uncomfortable. They were intimidating, powerful men. As Vidis sat down beside her, his warm energy pulsed outside her own aura, noticeable but not unpleasant.
Remembering the intense fire that woke her, she sucked in a breath at a sudden thought. “What exactly are you going to do?”
With his hands half raised, Vidis stilled. “I’m going to heal it from the inside out.” He moved his palms over the wound. “You should feel warmth, no pain.”
She gripped his wrist gently, stopping him. “It hurt last time.” He might make her nervous but letting a stranger work magic on her was even more unsettling. Scrutinizing his face, she took in the serenity and deep-seated calmness reflected in his expression and slightly almond-shaped eyes. “When you woke me up, it felt as if I was burning from the inside out.”
His lips quirked. “We needed you awake, and the only way to make that happen was to provoke you.”
Releasing his wrist, she rested her arm along her upper ribcage, watching Vidis closely. Cheveyo remained a silent shadow, watching them both.
Vidis placed his right hand over the wound in her front and his left over the one in her back. His eyes went slightly out of focus. Heat seeped into her side and the soreness slowly ebbed away.
She fought her instinctive urge to move. Letting someone be this close where they could work magic on her took a concentrated effort.
A few moments later, he raised his hands, briefly closed his eyes, and stood up. “It should be fine.”
She rolled over, pulled her legs around, preparing to get out of bed. At the absence of pain, relief spiraled through her.
Cheveyo shifted toward her while Vidis moved to the far window, clasping his hands behind his back.
Once on her feet, she stretched gently, feeling her muscles respond. Cheveyo gave her a look and she shook her head. Still shaky, she walked over to the unsettling man by the window. “Thank you, Mr. Vidis.” Quiet respect filled her voice. He gave a short nod, and she turned to Cheveyo. “I have to go take care of the two men out back.”
“Already taken care of,” Cheveyo’s voice was neutral, giving nothing away, his face stoic.
She didn’t ask for more. No need. He knew the score. The bodies were probably already buried deep in the woods. Just how long had she been out? “What time is it?”
“One in the morning,” came his answer.
“I was out for three hours?”
He nodded.
Well, that would explain why she was still shaky. “I need to take a shower.”
What she needed was to get the blood out from under her nails and off her skin. She didn’t need the visual reminds of the consuming dark joy when she dug her claws into that man’s throat. She’d thrown him so she wouldn’t rip his throat out, and then took a bullet for the small kindness. Go figure.
Vidis turned from the window, his face in shadows. “Of course, but hurry if you please. We need to discuss things.” He left the room.
Cheveyo stepped close. She tilted her head back, but refused to retreat, no matter how much he loomed over her. His mesmerizing eyes were an inky black, but his expression remained undecipherable. He lifted his left hand and gently traced the bruises marring her skin below the intricate knots and the battle ravens on her right arm. Then, without a word, he turned and followed Vidis.
The minute she was alone her shoulders slumped. Lord and Lady, she was tired. Not so much from her wounds or the fighting, more from her internal struggle. Cold and paralyzing fear curled around her as she considered just how much damage that wild, uncontrollable part could cause. Tonight had been close, too damn close. Freeing it to hunt had nearly ripped the length of her tightly held leash from her hands. If she ever lost her grip for good, it would be a disaster, creating danger to herself and everyone around her.
She stripped off her pants and bra to hit the shower. Stepping under the warm water, she lifted her face to the spray, letting the heat seep into her. Bloodlust still simmered, fueling the urge to rend and tear those who hunted her. Long ago, after her time in the lab, she’d been forced to admit such urges—so intense they were almost primal—were forever a part of her, until it seemed as if a wild animal shared her soul.
Learning to cage it had taken time. Reining it back once it was set loose took even longer. In her darkest moments, she considered letting it free once and for all, but something always held her back.
Once she washed the stains of the night off her skin and got dressed, she braided her wet hair back. She set her two wrist sheaths in place, then strapped her longer blade into its spine sheath. Against her dark T-shirt and hair, the black hilt was indistinguishable. Steadier with her mental walls and physical weapons in place, she padded barefoot down the hall to the kitchen.
The low rumble of male voices drifted toward her but fell silent when she appeared in the doorway.
She got a cup of tea, ignoring the weight of their silent regard. Keeping her face blank, she took a sip and sat down with them at the table. “I’m assuming, Mr. Vidis, that you being with Cheveyo when he called me was not a happy coincidence?”
“Not quite, Ms. McCord.”
“Call me Raine, or McCord, the Ms. sounds too stuffy.”
Vidis nodded. “All right then, Rain—”
“Three Wraiths were attacked tonight.” Cheveyo did a piss poor job of hiding his impotent fury and frustration. If he was even trying.
A tight feeling clutched her stomach. “Who?”
Cheveyo held her gaze. “You, Chet, and Gavin.”
Terror snatched at her bones, sinking talons deep. “Are they okay?”
Cheveyo’s jaw clenched. “Chet was killed.”
A silent scream started somewhere deep inside as dread surged. It took everything she had to keep her voice steady as she asked the next question, “And Gavin?”
A flash of pity proceeded Cheveyo’s gentle, “He’s missing.”
The world spun. The tabletop disappeared as white and gray spots danced over her vision. The internal scream turned into a wail. “Is—he still—alive?” The words stumbled over the block of ice in her chest.
“We’re not sure.”
Gavin was alive. She would accept nothing less. Reaching for her tea, she wrapped her cold fingers around its pitiful warmth. Her imagination stray
ed down twisted paths, the images scraping deep gouges across her mind and heart. Closing her eyes, she clung to the inner core of anger and determination, which brought her back from hell more than once.
It hurt to shove her terror for Gavin away, burying it deep, but she didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. Gavin needed her, needed her to do her job. If she got lost in her sickening, internal maelstrom, she would be useless to him.
Refocusing, she cleared her throat. “How was Chet killed?” It took a great deal to kill a Wraith. Sharp grief at loosing Chet joined her emotional upheaval.
“From what we could tell,” Vidis answered. “There was more than one attacker. Based on his wounds, one of them had to be a fairly powerful spell caster. The other had claws.” For a moment, Vidis’s inner predator peeked out, green and gold flames licking through his burning brown eyes. “They came in behind Chet and took his head.” He looked down at his clenched fist and forcibly relaxed it.
A shiver skated down her spine at Vidis’s full-blown rage. His emotions triggered hers, and she was unsettled to discover she was fighting the urge to snarl in an answering fury. Her voice came out harsh, “Neither one would walk blindly into a trap. They are…were…smarter than that. The only way Chet could have been ambushed was…”
“If he was with someone he trusted,” Cheveyo finished.
Dread coalesced in her stomach. Before she could reply, the jarring of her wards warned her of incoming company. She stood so fast the chair fell to the floor. She was half way down the hall to the front door before Cheveyo caught up with her.
“Raine!” He grabbed her arm, pulling her to a halt. “You can’t just charge out there.”
She blinked at him. “It’s my land, my territory. I can do what I damn well please.” She jerked out of his grip. When he went for her again, she slipped to the side, and gave him a slight shove which sent him stumbling back into Vidis, who’d come up behind. If she’d been thinking rationally, she would’ve been shocked by her actions.
As she slipped into the night, she caught the soft purr of a well-tuned engine, but not the same vehicle used by her attackers earlier. She charged down the porch stairs toward one of the taller trees guarding her front yard, sensing both Vidis and Cheveyo coming up behind her. She held up a hand, signaling them to halt.
