Scapulimancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 7)

by Charmaine Pauls

  Her scream punctured the silence, and its echo was a laugh, male laughter.

  In the path, surrounded by falling moths, stood two men, the guys from the bar.

  She lifted a hand. “Help. Please.”

  The skinny one with the moustache jabbed his friend in the ribs. “Wow, she’s trippin’ big time, man.”

  “How much did you put in?” the friend said.

  “Only a quarter of a bankie.”

  The stickman gurgled and spat on the ground. “This is gonna be fun.”

  Even in her strange state of mind, her thoughts were clear enough to realize what was happening. They’d drugged her, back at the bar. She pushed to her feet, feeling the effort. Shit, she was heavy. Too slow. They’d catch her before she’d taken two steps.

  She held up a finger, backtracking. “Stay away, or else…”

  The men glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

  “Come, now, darlin’,” the stickman said. “We ain’t gonna hurt you.”

  His friend, a thickset man with slits for eyes, took a step forward. “Just gotta stay still and Thinus, here,” he pointed at the stickman, “and me will show you a real good time.”

  She backed away farther. “I work for the government. I’ll have you arrested.”

  The fat guy unbuckled his belt. “Now, where’s the crime in sharin’? You gave us your consent,” he said as if it was a big word. “Didn’t she, Thinus?”

  “Consent,” Thinus echoed.

  She kept on putting distance between them. A weapon. She needed a weapon.

  “What’s with the waitin’?” Thinus said. “Get her, already.”

  “Nah.” His friend started taking off his boots. “I want a good chase.”

  She didn’t wait to hear more. Spotting a rock in the path, she grabbed and hurled it at the fat man. It zinged past his head, missing his ear by an inch.

  “Oooh.” Thinus cackled like a scrawny hen. “She’s got claws.”

  She couldn’t fight them off, not the two of them, but she was fast. At least, she was fast when not drugged. Still, flight was her only chance. She turned and broke into a sprint.

  Her heart protested, and her limbs refused to cooperate. It was like running in place in a big, bad dream. No matter how hard she pushed her body, she wasn’t gaining ground. Too damn slow. Footsteps followed, advancing. Closer.

  From somewhere farther behind there was a third voice. “Stop!”

  She worked her elbows. A hot breath blew on her neck and then there was a sharp tug on her ponytail. She yanked with all her might. The sting on her scalp caused her eyes to water, mixing with the sweat that ran from her forehead. The tears burned and blinded her, but she was free.

  “Stop,” that far-off voice yelled again.

  Moths descended and branches reached down with knuckled fingers. Run. She had to run without looking back. She bumped her toe on a rock and stumbled, but before she hit the ground, she managed to correct her balance. Maintaining her momentum, she carried on forward, and then there was nothing under her feet. The nightmare continued as she treaded air. The dream changed from being stuck in place to falling, falling…

  Chapter Two

  “Stop,” Wayne shouted as he rounded the bend, but the woman didn’t listen. She continued toward the ledge.

  Thinus reached for her ponytail and got hold of the end, but she jerked, and the silky strands slipped from his hand.

  “Stop!” Wayne repeated, but to no avail.

  She rushed forward blindly and went straight off the edge of the narrow path. Her feet navigated the air and took the full impact of her weight as she hit the ground. Even from the distance he heard the whoosh as the breath was knocked out of her. The slope was steep. She rolled three times before the water stopped her. There she lay, face-down in the stream. Unconscious, maybe.

  “Fuckers,” he gritted out as he rushed past Nelis who’d fastened his pants and was tying his boots.

  Thinus looked on with a baffled expression, his face stony and white. “We only wanted to scare her a bit.”

  “Stay right there,” Wayne said. He’d deal with them after.

  He slipped his way down over the rocks until he reached her. To his relief, she lifted her face and sucked in a few gulps of air. The gulps turned to sobs. Probably shock as much as pain. She fought him when he pulled her out of the water onto the muddy bank.

  Afraid she’d hurt herself more if he let go, he tightened his arms around her shoulders, pulling her back against his chest.

  “I’ve got you,” he breathed in her hair. “Shh, I’ve got you.”

  She stopped struggling after a while. When her body relaxed against his, he eased his grip.

  “It’s all right, angel. You’re safe. Take a deep, slow breath. Can you do that for me?”

  Her body turned to putty in his hands as she complied.

  “I’m going to check you out to make sure you haven’t broken anything. Understand?”

  She tensed again but nodded.

  He turned her around gently. God, she was a mess. Leaves and twigs stuck to her hair, and her face was streaked with mud. He made her sit on the ground to inspect her ankles. They weren’t broken or twisted. A few scrapes marred her arms, and her elbow had a short but nasty gash that needed attention. Other than that, and being a shivering bag of bones, she seemed to be fine. Physically, at least. Her eyes were wild and her pupils dilated. He gripped her chin and tilted her head for a better view. The black almost enveloped her irises.

  “Fuck.” He had a good idea what had happened.

  If the woman hadn’t gone off-trail he would’ve caught up with them sooner. Her tracks had taken him on a detour.

  He got up and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  He put his arm around her waist for assistance, but she pulled back and pointed at the protruding roots of a tree.

  “S–snakes.”

  It took him a moment to understand. “They’re not real. You’re hallucinating.” He turned her face toward him. “Focus on me and you’ll be fine.”

  Still, she resisted. “The men…”

  “You’re safe with me.”

  Only then did she allow him to help her up the slope. Nelis and Thinus stood at the edge, proffering tentative hands, but he pushed them away. It took all of his self-control not to give them the hiding they deserved right there on the spot. The only thing that prevented him from breaking their noses was the woman who clung to his arm, shaking with cold, or shock, or the effect of the drugs, or all three.

  “What did you give her?” he asked in a clipped tone, pinning the two idiots with a stare.

  “We didn’t mean no harm,” Nelis said. “We only meant to give her a good fright, scare her off.”

  “I won’t ask you again.”

  Thinus cast his eyes down. “Magic mushrooms.”

  “How much?”

  “A bit.”

  “A bit?” He took a step toward the coward who inched one back. “A ‘bit’ doesn’t cut it, not with the state she’s in.” He grabbed the starched shirt lapels, leaving traces of mud. “Do I take her to a fucking hospital or not? If I have to, you can be sure your name will be on the statement I’ll have to issue.”

  “Quarter of a bankie,” Nelis chirped from the side.

  “Fucking idiots.” He gave Thinus a shove as he moved past them to retrieve her backpack. “If you value your ugly faces, make sure I don’t see them for a very long time.”

  Neither of the men argued. If he took her to a hospital, blood tests would be done and the police summoned. Both the dickheads would be arrested for possession of drugs. That wasn’t what scared them. It was easy enough to buy yourself out of a drug charge these days. What scared them was Thinus’s old man’s wrath. Clive would take a whip to them.

  He fumed in frustration. A whip served them right. Thing was he couldn’t get caught up in a drug scene. Innocent or not, the police would put his ass straight back into jail. No
questions asked. Not in Knysna. If Jack would take her… No. Jack wouldn’t get involved, not even for the sake of justice. Anyway, justice in this town was rewarded to the man with the biggest bag of coins.

  The woman limped quietly next to him until they reached the clearing in front of the bar. There he stopped to face the dilemma.

  “I don’t want to go to hospital,” she said. “I don’t want trouble.”

  It wasn’t right, but he knew better than anyone nothing around here worked ‘right’. He got a bottle of water from his truck and screwed off the cap.

  “Here.” He handed her the bottle.

  She tilted it back and downed the water in one go. “Thanks.” Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she gave him a weary look. “I’m not in a state to drive.”

  “Where do you stay?”

  “Wilderness.”

  It was a good hour’s drive. Despite the heat, her teeth were chattering. Her clothes were soaked, she was covered in mud, and her body was full of cuts that needed to be cleaned, lest they became infected. He didn’t like his privacy invaded, but he didn’t see another way. Besides that, if Thinus and Nelis returned before he’d gone, he was going to do something he’d regret, something that would put him back in jail.

  He opened the passenger door of his truck. “My cabin is ten minutes from here.”

  Her gaze was skeptical. He could almost see her mind battling for reason through the haze of the drugs, and admired her for holding on to a measure of logical caution.

  “I can wait here for a while.” Her gaze moved to the bar.

  “Where you got drugged? You think Jack’s going to protect you when those scumbags get back?”

  She got his point because she moved to the vehicle. He went around and dumped her backpack on the seat before taking the wheel. She leaned in, unzipped the bag, and took out a lightweight rain jacket. Instead of putting it on, as he’d expected, she spread it out on the seat before sitting down.

  “It’s just mud,” he said. “The truck can be cleaned.”

  She didn’t react. With a sigh, he started the engine and turned the truck toward the gravel road that zigzagged up the mountain. As sure as his name was West, new trouble with a tight ass and a green parks board vest had come to town.

  He turned his attention to the wet, fucked, and shaken-up woman next to him. She stared from the window, her gaze fixed on the steep mountainside as if it was Disney World in Florida. What the hell did those pretty eyes see to make them appear so awestruck?

  “Still hallucinating?” he asked.

  She looked at him and blinked twice. “Don’t know. Maybe. It’s very … disturbing.”

  “If it’s too absurd to be real, it’s in your mind. Just keep on repeating that to yourself. It’ll help.”

  “How do I know if it’s absurd? Everything seems real.”

  “Tell me what you see, and I’ll tell you if it’s real.”

  A frown flittered over her brow. “I … I don’t know if I should say this to you.”

  “Just tell me,” he urged. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

  “Actually, it’s more impressive than funny.”

  “Try me.”

  “All right.” Her eyes moved over him. “I’m wondering why you have this enormous horn.”

  He almost steered off the shoulder of the road. He was going to say he didn’t have a hard-on but the thought of her attention on that part of his anatomy was enough to harden him, unwillingly realizing her statement.

  She touched her forehead. “Here.” She tapped the tip of her nose. “And here. Like a rhino.”

  Ah. He shifted on the seat, barely containing his grimace. “That’s not real.”

  She looked away again.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Sahara Graham. Everyone calls me Sara.”

  “Wayne West.” He reached over to shake her hand, keeping the other on the wheel. “Everyone calls me West.”

  She nodded in an absent-minded way. He wanted to ask more but she was spaced out and the less he got involved the better.

  They bumped over the cattle grid, passed the dam, and then the log cabin came into view. He parked out front and helped her into the confines of his domain that suddenly seemed too small for the two of them.

  “The bathroom is through here.” He indicated the door connected to the bedroom. “You may want a warm shower. There are clean towels on the shelf. I’ll find you something to wear.”

  She simply stood there, shaking.

  He touched her elbow where blood and mud were caked together. “Shower.” He nudged her forward. “Get warm and clean so we can take care of these cuts.”

  When the door closed behind her, he went outside. Wasn’t a bad idea to bring wood in for a fire. In summer, he didn’t use the fireplace, but it would help if she was still cold. After building a fire, he got the first-aid kit from the kitchen and lit the gas to boil water for tea. He poured a glass of orange juice, too. Nothing worked better to get a person down from a mushroom high. It was an old Xhosa remedy he’d learned from the witchdoctor. The tea made, he threw an uneasy glance toward the bedroom. By now, she should be long done.

  He stoked the fire. Night fell earlier here because the mountains blocked the sun. Evenings could be cool, even in mid-summer. The water was still running in the bathroom. He paced up and down the living space. Should he check? When another minute passed, he made up his mind and went through the bedroom to knock on the door.

  “Sara?”

  No answer.

  He knocked again. “You okay?”

  Still no answer.

  Fear of the kind he hadn’t known since the day he’d discovered the body behind his truck tightened his gut. If something had happened to her, the police would never believe him. They’d think him a serial killer.

  Without giving it another thought, he yanked open the door. Through the transparent curtain of the shower stall Sara’s huddled shape was visible on the floor. He plucked the curtain aside, drops of water flying everywhere, and reached for the taps. The spray was freezing cold, all the hot water gone. In the corner was her muddy heap of clothes, hiking boots and all. A dirty trail ran over the tile floor and down the drain. She had her knees pulled up to her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. He grabbed a towel and covered her body.

  “Sara.” There was angry reprimand in his voice he couldn’t help. It was the worry that did that to him.

  “The s–sharks,” she said through trembling lips. “S–swimming around. So p–pretty.”

  “Damn.”

  He lifted her in his arms and made her stand on the bath rug. He had a good mind to shove those magic mushrooms up the cousins’s assholes. Grabbing the ends of the towel, he moved it vigorously, drying and warming her body simultaneously while he kept his gaze fixed on her face. Looking down was tempting–hell, he was only a man–but it would be an uninvited invasion of her privacy.

  With a giggle, she ducked her head to the side and leaned back. “Whoa!”

  “What’s wrong?” he said tightly.

  “Careful with those horns. They’re mighty sharp.”

  It should’ve been funny, but annoyance at Nelis and Thinus’s irresponsible stunt wiped away all traces of humor.

  “Ouch.” She flinched.

  He looked down. A spot of red colored the towel where he’d rubbed it over her arm. The cut on her elbow was bleeding again. He folded one end of the towel over the other between her breasts and reached for another to dry her legs. He’d never seen anyone shake so much. Using the same towel to squeeze the water from her hair, he dried her as best as he could, and then marched her to the sofa facing the fire.

  “Sit.” Without waiting for her to comply, he pushed her down into the seat. “You’ll be warm in no time.” He pulled the medicine kit closer. “Let me see that arm.”

  She held out her elbow. It didn’t need stitches but it had to be disinfected. She winced as he sprayed the wound with Betadin
e, but said nothing. A sterile square of gauze and tape to stop the bleeding should do the trick.

  “Where else does it hurt?”

  “Here.” She motioned at her side.

  “Lie down.”

  She lay down on her back, straight and stiff.

  “On your side,” he said, “the side that doesn’t hurt.”

  “Both hurt.”

  “The side that hurts least, then.”

  She turned, facing the fire.

  He fetched two clean towels from the bathroom, folded them lengthwise to cover her breasts and her lower body, and removed the wet towel. There were a few scrapes over her ribs and a cut on her hip, but nothing serious. He sat down on the edge of the sofa and dabbed disinfectant with a cotton swab onto the red lines that marred her golden skin. She stared at the fire, not at his face, so he let his eyes wander over the curves of her body. Lying like that with her knees slightly drawn up, the dip of her waist emphasized the swell of her hips and breasts. Her body looked like the gentle surf of a lake on a windy day. In the light of the fire her tanned complexion had a warm glow. The underside of her breast peeked from the towel. An image of the curve, small and firm, popped into his mind. Her areolas would be dark and her nipples hard, sweet on a man’s tongue. Desire filled his veins, flooding his brain and hardening his dick. It had been too long.

  “Turn,” he said gruffly.

  As she did so, the towels moved. He caught a glimpse of her cleavage and the dimples above her butt. The towel reached to the under-curve of that tight ass, but the dark shadow between her thighs hinted at what nestled between. He imagined the triangle of hair and the warm flesh underneath, thoughts he shouldn’t be having. When his fingers probed her ribs to ensure none was broken, her chest stopped moving. She was holding her breath. His hand skimmed lower, moving to the scrape on her hip. Only then did she release the air in her lungs.

  The drug in her system would make her feel with more intensity. He’d do well to remember that. He shouldn’t touch her more than needed. The strangeness of having a naked woman with a perfect body on his sofa made him sprout that horn of her delusion, and it wasn’t on his forehead. The fact that she was SAN alone should dampen his untimely reaction, but it seemed his body had a mind of its own.