by Jami Gray
The defenses buckled.
Raine found comfort in knowing she managed to take Alexi out, keeping of her promise to Gavin. It was her last coherent thought. Distantly she heard someone calling her name, but found she didn’t care as the blackness swallowed her whole.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Raine was cold. Unfortunately, a wave of pain quickly chased the chill away. A soft groan escaped.
“She’s coming around.” There was a male voice, but she was having trouble figuring out who it belonged to.
She struggled to open her eyelids, but they were weighted down. It took her a bit, but she finally managed to pry them open. Dappled sunlight washed across her face, and she focused on the burnished leaves above her, trying to remember what she was doing here.
Someone ran their hands over her body. Her naked body. Okay, that had to stop. She tried moving her arms to push the hands away, but they wouldn’t respond. Panic spurted and her breathing hitched as she struggled to make her body move.
A deep voice rolled overhead, “Stop, Raine. Just lie still. You’re safe.”
Her gaze flickered down to find Cheveyo kneeling next to her. He studied her face for a moment and then turned back to finish running his hands over her body. When his fingers whispered over the hand shaped burn on her thigh she hissed at the biting pain.
“Stop.” The croak was barely there, but he must have heard it.
His hands stopped, and he looked at her.
She licked her dry lips and tasted something metallic and brassy. “Need to sit up.” She struggled and Cheveyo moved behind her to help her upright. Her vision swam then steadied. She was still naked and it bothered her. “Clothes?”
Cheveyo shifted behind her, skewing her balance.
She placed her right arm on the ground to steady herself, but as weak as it was, she wasn’t sure it would hold long. A soft warmth draped across her shoulders. Looking down she saw Cheveyo’s flannel shirt.
She tried to figure out how to button it up without falling over, but his hands came around and quickly did up the buttons. Good thing he was a tall man, because the tail end of the shirt would brush mid-thigh when she stood. If she could stand.
She leaned back against him, on some level realizing he had a T-shirt on under the flannel. Taking a deep breath, she looked around.
Xander sat tailor fashion a few feet away, while Ryder leaned against a tree in front of her. Both of them watched her closely, with identical blank masks.
Raine kept her mind empty and just breathed. A coppery smell hit her nose drawing her gaze to her right. The sight of what remained of a body brought everything back in a flash.
Cheveyo’s grip tightened as Raine’s body jerked, stiffened, and then went still. She studied the bloodied remains huddled on the ground. Alexi’s face was slack and her red-tinged eyes were staring emptily up through the canopy of leaves. She looked as if she’d been mauled by a large cat—which, essentially, she had.
Raine’s first swipe carved deep grooves along the side of Alexi’s torso, which now showed small glimpses of white ribs. Her second slash opened Alexi from throat to belly. Seeing the bulge of exposed entrails, Raine felt nothing. Distantly, she wondered if this image would haunt her. There were more wounds, but they ran together, until all that remained was a decimated mass of torn flesh and ripped viscera, barely discernable as humanoid.
She raised her gaze to the two Wraiths warily watching her. “How did you find me?”
Cheveyo’s voice rumbled behind her, “The charm I gave you.”
She gave a weak laugh. “You used it to track me.”
“It’s good we did, McCord,” Xander said. “A few more minutes and the spell would have finished you.”
Raine coughed, wincing at the pain in her ribs from Alexi’s attack. “I just had to last longer than she did.”
“No,” Cheveyo’s denial was sharp. “Her spell tied the two of you together. If she died, so would you.”
She tried to twist around to see him, hissing as her injuries pulled and shot sharp needles of pain through her body. “I’m here, she’s not. She must have not done the spell right then.”
Something close to a growl emerged from Cheveyo. Surprised by the unexpected sound, Raine’s eyes widened.
“You idiot.” His hands clamped down on her shoulders as if to shake her. “The only reason we were able to break the spell was because we got here before she died.”
“Okay,” she kept her voice steady and her eyes level as she took in the frustration in his face. “Then I owe you my thanks.”
“Actually,” Ryder’s voice brought her attention to him. “You owe him a lot more than that.”
“What do you mean?” Her stomach lurched at the darkly humorous look in the pretty boy’s eyes.
Ryder smiled as he answered, “Cheveyo broke the spell by tying your life force to his.”
She jerked forward, ignoring the jolts of pain, and faced Cheveyo. “You did what?”
He stiffened and crossed his arms across his chest. “It was the only way to snap you out of the spell. I used the link the charm forged between my magic and yours to drag you back.”
“You had no right!” Her hands clenched. “Explain what happens now, Cheveyo. Can you undo it?”
“No, it’s permanent.” Both his voice and his eyes were unreadable.
She gritted her teeth and fought down the bubbling panic. “What does that mean?”
“It means you both can tap into each other’s magic to some degree.” Glee filtered through Ryder’s voice and made him sound like a boy who had a titillating secret.
It took Raine a second to process Ryder’s answer. She stared at Cheveyo. “To what degree?”
He shot Ryder a disgusted look. “It’s fairly limited. We’d have to be close together for it to work, and I have no intention of utilizing this bond.”
“But it’s still there,” she whispered.
It was another chain, linking her to someone else. A powerful someone who could use her. She dragged in a shuddering breath. She couldn’t deal with this right now. Later—she’d deal with it later. “We need to get rid of Alexi’s body, and I’m sure Mulcahy would like a report.”
“What he’d like is your ass in a sling,” Ryder commented.
Raine stared at him.
“You disobeyed your chief and didn’t tell him where the meeting was.” Undaunted, he shrugged, obviously enjoying the tension filled atmosphere. “He’s not happy.”
“Good,” she muttered, struggling to push herself to her feet. “At least I’m not alone in that.”
Cheveyo moved to help steady her, ignoring her slight stiffening.
“Ryder and I will take care of the body. “ Xander got to her feet. “You need some medical attention.”
Raine shuffled over to stand by what remained of the woman she once considered a friend. She felt nothing but relief that she was standing and Alexi was dead. Without a word, she let Cheveyo lead her away.
It was slow going as her body made its numerous aches and pains known. She hunched over, like an old woman, because something in the center of her body still hurt. Not a deep hurt, more a sore, seriously-pulled-some-muscles hurt. It meant Alexi managed to hurt her worse than she first believed.
Cheveyo was a tall, silent shadow beside her. When she stumbled, he reached out to brace her, and when she was steadier, he pulled back.
The sun was heading toward the west, giving way to late afternoon when she and Cheveyo reached the clearing with the shack. Catching a dull glimmer out of the corner of her eye, she took a few steps before carefully reaching down to retrieve one of her knives. A slow scan netted the other one a short space away. She made her way over and picked up the second blade. Having the two blades in her hands made her feel steadier, more in control.
Cheveyo watched her, and when she stood facing him with a blade in each hand, his expression remained unchanged. She searched his face, the high cheeks bones, the impenetrable obsidian
gaze set deep under slashing black brows, the slightly crooked nose, full lips, and angled chin. Taking in the faded jeans, deep blue T-shirt, and worn hiking boots, he looked good enough to earn second, even third glances, but right now she felt nothing.
She was exhausted, physically and emotionally.
Perhaps it was better to be emotionally drained, since she could pretty much assume if she felt better, Cheveyo wouldn’t be standing so nonchalantly in front of her when she was armed. Her voice was as empty as her heart. “Why?”
Cheveyo’s expression didn’t alter, and his voice eerily echoed hers. “I could not stand by and watch your spirit bleed away.”
“And because you decided I should live, what do I owe you?”
A flash of something too fast to understand washed across his face. “I’ve said it before, Raine, you have trust issues. You owe me nothing.”
She snorted, then winced as her ribs protested. “Everything has a price, Cheveyo. You’re too old not to understand that.”
“Is this where I’m supposed to say something about you being too cynical?”
A spark of dry humor rose. “It’s the way of my people. We’re rarely disappointed that way.” She turned away as her brief humor faded. “What did you do to us?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the flash of confusion, frustration, and pained male ego washing across his face. “It’s an old magic, the sharing of life forces.” His voice took on a lecturing tone, “When one person is gravely injured in spirit, another person can help them survive by sharing a small piece of their personal power. However, the person sharing must be strong enough to create and forge the link and the one receiving must be willing to take it.”
That brought her head around. “Are you saying I willingly took part in this? I remember a lot of pain, and passing out, but I’m pretty certain I would remember you asking.”
“No, but you were willing to live at any cost.”
She shook her head. There were times when being Kyn was more trouble than it was worth. This was turning out to be one of those times. What, she mused briefly, would it be like to just be human? To face such problems as how to find the money to replace the transmission in a beater car, or what job to do for the rest of your life.
Nope, instead she faced mad scientists, psychotic demons, covert military generals, a pissed off boss who’d make the psychotic demon seem like a walk in the park, and a witch who now held a piece of her soul. Not to mention the man she cared for was still in a coma and would probably wake up hating her for what she dragged him into.
To hear Cheveyo say she wanted to live at any cost was disconcerting. She was bone tired, not just in body, but in spirit.
Before turning fifteen, she and her mother lived a quiet life. Once, she thought, staring sightlessly out in to the woods, life had been quite simple. Her mother loved her. That she never doubted. It didn’t matter if she hadn’t shared who Raine’s father was, she’d done nothing but protect Raine. Together they found joy in the simple things, a well-planted garden, treasures rediscovered in antique shops, and lessons to help Raine’s emerging natural magic.
Her mother’s face was a hazy memory, but the long dark hair, which smelled of jasmine; the gray-blue eyes, always sparkling with laughter; and the graceful hands, showing Raine the basics in warding spells—those stayed clear.
She held those details close while at the lab. Her personal talisman against the onslaught of pain and the dehumanizing—what an ironic term—treatments. When she realized her mother was dead—and how she died—Raine hadn’t even been able to grieve. Escape became the all-consuming goal. Through the insanity of relearning how to block out the screaming chaos of the magic around her, to bury deep those magical traits which seem to frighten those who knew her, she held the kernel of her mother’s love close. Protecting the small flame of love, could, in her darkest hours, bring a tiny whisper of comfort.
She lost sight of that spark. Something she could admit now.
At some point when she was hunting down those who twisted her, she hid the spark so deep it almost went out. Yet, when Cheveyo reached out to bring her back from the death she could have sworn she would’ve cheerily welcomed, it burst forth, strong enough to have her accepting Cheveyo’s offer.
His voice wove through her thoughts. “Raine?” She shifted her gaze back to see puzzlement etched on his face. “Where did you just go?”
“I’m just surprised,” her voice felt rusty. “To find out maybe you’re right.”
“About what?”
“Maybe I did want to live. Shit!” she muttered.
He blinked slowly. “You are a very confusing woman.”
She started toward him. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” When she reached his side, she handed him the two blades. “Don’t drop them.” Then she headed to the log behind the shack to get her backpack. She used clothes to pack her weapons, but she wanted her jeans. Being naked sucked.
Dragging the pack out of its hiding spot, she went into the shack and changed. Back outside, she handed Cheveyo his flannel shirt. He took it without a word. She started to shrug into her pack, but Cheveyo’s hand shot out and took it from her. She didn’t argue.
Exhaustion pulled at her, but the trek to the road remained. “How far is your Jeep?”
“It’s back near the park entrance.” Cheveyo gestured toward the road, five miles out. “It’s the closest we could get by car.”
She sighed and headed out, Cheveyo behind her. They walked in a weird sort of comfortable silence for a while before she needed a distraction from her body’s whimpers. “What did Ryder mean about you and I tapping in to each other’s magic?”
Her sudden question didn’t seem to startle Cheveyo. “When you combine life forces, you are combining magics and creating a sort of door between the two people.”
“Dumb it down for me, Cheveyo.”
He sighed. “If we were in close proximity and in need, we could open the door to create a secondary source of power. Take your last situation. If we were bound, you could’ve countered the demon halfing’s hold by opening the door and drawing on my knowledge of defensive spells.”
She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other for a moment as she shifted the information around. “So I could have just gotten a peak at your mind, found what I needed, and pulled it out?”
“No, more like I would feel what you were going through and reacted as if it was happening to me.”
She stumbled to a halt. “Wait a second. If I’m attacked, you’re going to feel it and visa versa? I don’t need any more enemies. I can barely handle the ones I have now.”
Her statement brought a small quirk to those full lips. “You don’t have to worry. The only way the mental door will open is if you open it and I answer.”
Frowning, she studied his calm face. “If you knock and I don’t answer, what happens?”
He shrugged. “I’ll deal like I would’ve before.”
“And if you die?”
“You have a decided lack of confidence in my skills.”
She pushed. “I’m not kidding around. What if I don’t answer, or can’t answer and you’re killed?”
The witch’s gaze shuttered. “You will feel it, but you will survive it.”
“How deeply will I feel it?”
“I don’t know,” frustration laced his voice. “It’s not like I go around tying myself to every person in trouble.”
Whoa, pushed a button there. “Okay, but that brings two questions to mind. One, how can you not know? Don’t you know this stuff? And two, why did you tie yourself to me?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “As I said before, the magic used for such a spell is old and the tales accompanying it have faded into the past. I was taught the spell by someone older and wiser than me. Since I haven’t seen what happens if one side of the equation falls, I can’t tell you what to expect.”
“Then how do you know I’ll feel it?”
“Lo
gic. If I die, you will lose a small piece of yourself, and visa versa.”
She took a moment to digest that little tidbit. The hope that the little piece she could lose would be one of the worst flitted through her mind and then drifted away. A twisted piece of humor to stave off hysterics at being linked to a man she barely knew.
She shot him a look. “You didn’t answer my second question.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to.” When she opened her mouth, he raised a hand. “I can’t, actually. I reacted and it’s done.”
She heard the finality in his tone, turned, and began making her way back to the cars.
Time passed, and she concentrated on breathing through the ache of her screaming muscles, pushing herself relentlessly, blocking out her surroundings. Cheveyo brought her back to her senses with a gentle hand on her elbow when she stumbled onto the relatively clear path leading to the parking lot. She raised her weary eyes and if she was a lesser woman, would have cried in relief when she made out Cheveyo’s Jeep.
Cheveyo’s voice was a low murmur, “Just a little bit more.”
Unable to speak, she jerked her head in a nod. She didn’t realize how much she was leaning on him until they reached the Jeep and he stood her against the vehicle. Her legs were watery. She feared passing out. The witch helped her into the passenger seat, then snapped a belt across her lap.
Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. The other door opened and the vehicle shifted under Cheveyo’s weight as he settled in. Before he could turn the ignition on, she rolled her head and pulled her lids up just enough to look at him. “My SUV is parked at a cabin.”
Cheveyo picked up a cell phone and hit a series of numbers. “I need you to pick up Raine’s SUV.” She heard Ryder on the other end. Cheveyo got the directions from her and passed them on. “Just take it back to Taliesin. Thanks.” He snapped the phone closed.
She lost the fight to keep her eyes open. “He doesn’t have my keys,” she mumbled.
Cheveyo pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward Portland. “He doesn’t need them.”
