The harpy didn't appear to like the small step I'd taken in her direction. She jerked sideways, dragging Mim with her as she scuttled toward the edge of the loft. Mim's shoes scraped across the wooden planks beneath her feet and I heard her gasp for air.
"Let her breathe," I growled. "Or it's all over, now."
Grudgingly, the harpy eased her hold a bit and allowed Mim a lungful of air.
"So where the hell did you come from?" I snarled as I moved a few steps closer. We'd already run into a harpy a month earlier. It was hard to believe that there'd be a second one in the Denver area. "I wouldn't have thought there was more than one harpy in the whole of America."
The harpy chuckled but it was a sinister sound. "Was in St. Louis when we caught scent of gargoyle venom. Broke out of fancy museum place and followed the big cart with lovely smell."
By cart, I assumed she meant the van that was carrying Chaos, Courage and Force. "What happened to the gargoyles in the cart?" I demanded, partly to buy time as I moved closer to Mim and partly because any information I could get about my missing cousins would be helpful.
The harpy scowled. "Don't know. Think the others got them. Nitschka couldn't keep up," she complained. Her rough voice was full of self-pity and it about turned my stomach. Because I knew she'd never spare any of that compassion for any other living creature.
"Others?" I barked. "What do you mean by others? Were you with some other harpies? How many?"
But a sly look fell across the monster's evil features and she turned silent.
I sent Mim a meaningful look. "The pack will need to know about this," I told her, which only seemed to alarm her. In that moment, Mim must have understood that I didn't necessarily plan to return home with her. "Let her go," I insisted as I shifted my feet slowly closer. "And I'll give you my venom."
The harpy shook her rocky head and dragged Mim farther along the wall of hay and closer to the edge of the loft. "Not enough. Want your rune. Want forever with the pretty gargoyle."
"Let her go," I repeated in a growl. "Then we'll talk."
"Knife first," the harpy rasped as her gaze slid to the long blade on my hip. "Throw knife away."
Without hesitating, I drew my blade and took a sideways step to the edge of the loft. Opening my fingers, I let my knife drop to the ground fourteen feet below. I wanted the harpy to understand that the girl meant everything to me. That releasing Mim would work in her favor. That one scratch on Mim's short frame meant the harpy was finished. I'd kill her if she hurt Mim.
The minute the harpy loosened her grip on Mim, my little wildcat started shouting. "No, Dare. I won't let you do this. I won't let it happen. Not again."
Somehow, I had to make Mim understand. "I can't let anything happen to you, Mim. I can't. I'll do whatever it takes." I didn't mention that my gargoyle instincts required me to protect her. Because there was a whole lot more than instinct going on here. My feelings for her were the real driving force behind my desperation.
"Even if it means we'll never see each other again?"
I nodded without answering. As I edged closer, the harpy was careful to keep Mim between us, making it clear that she could break Mim's neck whenever she wanted to.
"Well, that's just not acceptable," she argued as her chin lifted to a determined angle. "I won't accept it."
Only a few feet separated us. Sadly, I think Mim finally understood how I felt about her.
"You're giving up on me!" she yelled, her anguished voice echoing in the barn's rafters.
I took a deep breath. "I'm not giving up on you. I'm giving up for you. There's a difference. And there's nothing you can do about it, Mim." Or so I thought. I forgot that I'd tried that before with my wings and it hadn't worked.
"Don't do this," Mim begged me.
I couldn't look into her pleading eyes. I wasn't strong enough. Instead, I targeted the harpy with my gaze and spread my arms out at my sides. "I'm here," I said. At that point, I was close enough to touch Mim. "Let the lass go."
"Might be lying," the harpy pointed out in a suspicious croak. "Might be trying to trick Nitschka."
"I'll keep my word," I promised, intending to honor the bargain as long as she didn't try to hurt Mim. But I didn't trust her. As soon as she got what she wanted, she could easily turn around and kill Mim without blinking. It's not like the monster had anything like a conscience. I had to make sure Mim was safely in her car and driving away before I let Nitschka get her hands on me. After she released Mim, I planned to hold the harpy off with my second knife while Mim made her way back to the road.
But Mim had other plans. Like I said, I'd overlooked her stubborn streak. I'd forgotten how she'd defied me to give me wings. But never in my worst nightmare could I have foreseen what happened next. Just when I thought Mim would escape unharmed, the headstrong girl reached for my hand and crushed her fingers against my poisonous barbs.
I stared down at Mim's hand in shock and horror then lifted my sharp gaze to Nitschka's face. Together, we reached the same conclusion at precisely the same instant—all was lost. The harpy had lost her leverage. And I was about to lose everything that meant anything at all to me.
"Gog and Magog," I cursed, my voice a bare whisper of sound.
The harpy freaked. I mean freaked. Mim was useless to her now and Nitschka was pissed. Screeching with rage, she swung Mim off her feet and threw her from the loft. A startled cry broke from Mim's lips as she tilted toward the ground below.
"Like hell," I muttered. My protective instincts slammed into gear and I shot my wing out in Mim's direction. The harpy was already lunging at me, but as I stretched toward Mim, I avoided the monster's charge. Over-committed, Nitschka fell forward, her heavy mass crashing to the hayloft's smooth wooden floor, her momentum carrying her several feet beyond me before she came to a sliding stop.
Capturing Mim inside my wing, I threw my weight to the side and hauled her back to the relative safety of the hayloft floor. Swiftly, I swept her over toward the stack of hay and I pulled the thin knife from the pocket against my spine. But I didn't turn and face the harpy who was back on her feet and thundering toward us. The tips of Mim's fingers were already turning gray. I didn't hesitate. I didn't stop to think. I didn't consider the consequences or alternatives. I grasped Mim's wrist with one hand and ripped my blade through the air.
With one violent downward slash, I cut off Mim's fingers.
Chapter Fifteen
Screaming like a psycho banshee, the harpy leapt at my back, her talons clawing at my wings. As the razor-sharp nails slid across the tough, black Tyvek without tearing, a vicious sense of satisfaction surged through my veins. Mim's wings worked just as Victor had predicted. And for a harpy-magnet like me, my new wings were better than the real thing.
Bracing my feet, I threw myself backwards, away from Mim.
Locked together, we rolled across the hayloft floor. The harpy was easily strong enough to overcome me—normally—but I was enraged by the way she'd thrown Mim from the loft. And I was desperate to protect her. My desperation and fury gave me strength and speed unlike anything I'd ever known before. I also had the strategic advantage of knowing the harpy didn't want to kill me.
The feeling wasn't mutual.
One of the monster's arms was clamped around my neck as we wrestled together on the wood floor. The other spanned my waist. Stabbing backwards, I tried to get my blade between the armored plates on her ribs. The sharp steel glanced over her rocky hide and bit into my side. A curse hissed between my teeth as my blood spilled warmly from the wound and soaked into the hoodie. Again, I struck out but before my blade could find a soft place to sink, the harpy and I toppled from the loft, down to the barn's dirt floor.
We struck the ground hard with a dull crunching thud, my weight driving the air from her lungs and momentarily stunning her. It was a lucky break for me but I had only seconds to act. With a quick jerk of my wrist, I stabbed backward behind my ear and felt my knife slide between the plates that shielded her
throat. Straining for leverage, I buried the blade.
The harpy's shriek about burst my eardrums as I fought free from her clawing grasp. I left my blade in her neck and scrambled away from her as thick blood spurted from the wound. Pushing myself back up to my feet, I watched her blood make a widening blot on the ground.
Slowly, Nitschka's black eyes registered understanding; her ugly life of evil was coming to an end. She cranked her head in my direction, her gaze spilling hatred. "Get you," she screamed. "My sisters will get you. Get revenge."
While there's nothing that sucks worse that a harpy's curse, the monster's darling sisters had deserted her several weeks ago. They didn't sound like the type of girls to spend the rest of their lives hunting me down. Anyhow, I didn't have time for that.
"Whatever," I panted, and retrieved the long knife that I'd dropped earlier. I angled my wings and jumped into the air. Up in the hayloft, I found Mim slumped on the floor, her blood staining the wooden planks beneath her hand. I gathered her limp form into my arms, sprinted for the hayloft door and took to the dark, night sky.
My stomach churned with gut-wrenching fear as I watched Mim's face. Her thickly lashed eyes were closed, her face as white as the chalk cliffs that shape the south coast of England. "Hang on Mim," I muttered, praying that I'd removed the fingers in time, before the poison had entered her bloodstream. As I cut through the air across the empty farmland, I squeezed the stumps that were left of her fingers to stop the bleeding. It didn't stop the flow of blood entirely, but at least it slowed it down. "Just hang on."
Back on the road beside Mim's old car, I lifted her gently into the passenger seat then reached into the back for my T-shirt. Kneeling beside the open door, I tore the soft fabric into strips and used the cloth to wrap her fingers. When I was done with her hand, I took what was left of the T-shirt and jammed it against the cut that slashed across my ribs.
It wasn't easy to get the hoodie back over my wings without Mim's help, but somehow I managed, though I was trembling with cold by the time I got the job done. I guess I could have ripped the hoodie off, but I wanted to wear it under my coat. With my wings closed and my coat pulled over the ragged hoodie, I was able to hide my ribs from sight.
As I finished up and made my way to the other side of the car, I staggered and had to stop to get my balance. Feeling lightheaded, I reached out with one hand and propped myself against the car. I'd seen far worse wounds in my lifetime but it was different when someone you cared about was hurt. And it didn't help that I was responsible for the injury.
It probably sounds bizarre but I kept trying to remember if Mim was right-handed or left-handed. I'd cut off her ring finger and little finger just above the knuckles on her left hand and I was trying to figure out how badly she needed them. Fingers were relatively important things. What if she couldn't sew without them? I wasn't sure she'd ever forgive me. I wasn't sure I'd ever forgive myself.
But I forced myself to keep moving. Once I was in the driver's seat and most of the world had stopped spinning, I pulled Mim's pack from the back of the car and dug through the pockets for her cell phone. It wasn't as fancy as MacKenzie's phone and didn't look like it could access the Internet…which I'd have had trouble doing anyhow. I dialed MacKenzie.
"MacKenzie," I barked, still shivering. "I'm outside Limon with Mim. Find me the closest hospital."
"Hospital?" she gasped on the other end of the line. "Dare, what happened? Who's hurt?"
I didn't have time for her questions. "The hospital, Mac. Now." I started the car, turned on the heater and waited for her directions.
"The closest hospital is in Hugo," she finally reported over the crackling line.
"Hugo?"
"It's about twenty miles from the crash site. Get to I-70 and head east. Turn south on County Rd 109. Turn left when you get to the end of it and left again on 1st Avenue. Then turn right on 6th Street. The hospital's on 6th."
I turned on the headlights and pulled the car out onto the road with the phone still pressed against my ear.
"Dare, what happened?" she demanded.
"No time to explain," I muttered, my stomach turning violently. "I'll call you as soon as I get a chance." With a last, troubled glance at Mim, I slipped the phone onto her lap and accelerated down the long, straight road toward the highway.
It wasn't until Mim was safely in the care of the emergency room staff that I gave into the emotions messing with my equilibrium. As I watched a nurse roll Mim away in a wheelchair, I fought the urge to throw up, knowing that I'd have to go outside to do that. And I didn't want to be that far away from her.
I staggered to the far side of the hospital's empty waiting room and collapsed into a chair. My face was in my hands fifteen minutes later when I heard the voices of my family. I jerked my head upward, amazed to see MacKenzie stumping across the floor toward me. Valor, Havoc and Defiance followed swiftly behind her.
I stared at my pack, never so happy to see anyone before in my life. "How…how did you get here so quickly?" I asked, my voice cracking.
No one answered. Havoc crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the walls. Defiance lifted his gaze to the ceiling. Valor's eyes shifted around the room before settling on MacKenzie.
MacKenzie gave me a guilty look. "We left the house about fifteen minutes after you did. And parked ten miles west of Limon."
"She was worried," Valor explained apologetically.
"It…must be the venom in my bloodstream," she said in a small voice. "I know I was being way overprotective. I made Valor and the others come with me."
I searched their faces. "But Victor said…"
"Victor refused to come with us. He stayed back with Reason," she explained as her gaze flicked around at the others. "He said you didn't need our help. In fact, he was a little annoyed with us for following you."
I pushed myself up onto my feet and wrapped her in a fierce hug. "I'm glad you're here."
Together, we settled on the orange chairs that lined the wall. MacKenzie held my hand and Valor stroked her hair while I brought them up to date on what had happened. She gasped when I told her what I'd done with my knife. Talking about it wasn't easy and before I knew it, my face was as wet as hers.
I pressed my wrist against my nose and tried to stem the wave of emotion that was ripping through my system and threatening to take me down. I couldn't afford that right now. I had to stay strong—or at least remain conscious—and be there for Mim when she came out of emergency care.
"Your hands are bleeding," MacKenzie pointed out in a troubled whisper.
I looked down at my hackles. They were still bleeding where my barbs had broken through the skin. It didn't look that serious. It just looked like I'd skinned my knuckles, but I dug my gloves from my pocket and pulled them on, just to be safe. I didn't want anyone asking questions or inspecting my hands too closely.
"I'd better check and see if there's any news," I croaked from a tight throat. As I stumbled to my feet, Havoc quietly joined me. At the receptionist's desk, he did the talking for me. There are times when you just can't beat having a brother at your side.
"We just want to know if she's okay," Havoc insisted when the attractive receptionist told him that she didn't know anything.
"Why wouldn't she be okay?" asked the dark-haired young woman. "The girl isn't going to die from a few missing fingers."
Havoc smiled patiently. "Could you just check for us?"
"Take a seat," she finally gave in after huffing out an impatient sigh. "This will take a few minutes." She got to her feet and disappeared through the doors behind her desk.
We wandered back to our chairs and counted the minutes while we waited for news. At last, the doors swung open again. The young woman caught my eye and motioned me in her direction. This time, MacKenzie and Valor joined me as the receptionist gave her report. "Your friend is getting stitched up. She won't be much longer. We've called the police and they'll be here soon."
Police? I sent MacKenzi
e a startled look. Why were the police coming?
"They have to investigate Mim's injury," MacKenzie murmured as we paced back across the room. "She's only sixteen."
I started to panic. I had no ID. No driver's license, no social security number, no passport. What if the police arrested me? What if they deported me to England, so far away from Mim that I could never find my way back. "What am I going to tell the police officer?"
MacKenzie shook her head. "We need an explanation for what happened to Mim's hand. But we'll be in trouble if the policeman asks for a separate statement from Mim. Your stories need to match."
"Let's hope Mim is released before the police get here," Defiance muttered.
But we didn't have time to give it any more thought or any more hope. The hospital doors opened and a policeman strode into the waiting room. He checked with the receptionist and she pointed at our group. Turning on his heel, he headed in our direction. As his legs carried him across the linoleum floor toward us, I thought I was screwed.
I stood and met his gaze then staggered again, still feeling lightheaded. I guess I was pretty pale because the small-town cop took pity on me.
"Sit down," he insisted and took the chair next to mine while I briefly introduced the others. The cop set his hat on his knee and scrubbed a hand back through his short brown hair. "You guys from England?"
"Yes," MacKenzie quickly answered. "My mother's family is from the U.K. and these are friends of my cousins."
He flipped open a small notepad then got down to business. He wrote down our names, using the last name of Greystone that MacKenzie had made up for us, then asked, "What's your relationship to the young lady who was injured?"
"She's a friend," I murmured, wanting to say more. Wanting to say she was the most important thing in my life.
MacKenzie took over again and explained that Mim was her best friend and they'd known each other since kindergarten. She told the officer that she'd introduced us a few months ago and that we were out on a date at the time of the accident.
The Greystone Bundle (Books 1-4) Page 34
