by Lucy Lyons
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I tried to summon the wolf, certain that Somayo would prefer to live as a shifter than die and return from the dead as a night-stalker, but I was still under the effects of the venom and couldn’t shift my pinky finger even to save a life. I shook my head and pulled Ashlynn around me, pressing my stomach to her back despite the pain in my gut.
“I haven’t got the juice, Simi. It has to be Ashlynn or Nick. You know Soma better than any of us. Which do you choose?” She bit her lip and twisted her fingers together, wringing her hands as sweat trickled down her temples to her throat.
“Can you do it, Night Mother?” she asked, surprising me. “I mean, you’re the most powerful one here, right? If you do it, is it more likely to work?”
“It is,” came the careful reply. “But my sweet child, I must warn you that if I give him my blood, it is also more likely to change him.”
“I thought you were going to drain him,” she whimpered. “I thought you were going to kill him, and I was still willing to go through with it. If there’s even a chance he won’t change, we must take it. Please, do what you need to do.”
Ashlynn, Portia, and Caroline were summarily dismissed, and Nick and I took up places on either side of Somayo, ready to hold him down if he started to have a seizure. Simi cupped his head in her hands and prayed silently, her lips moving as she repeated the rosary prayers by rote. Outside was the dull sound of dirt and gravel spraying as the priest arrived, and I felt Ashlynn’s uncertainty about letting him in, and then he appeared in the tent doorway, light spilling in all around him.
“Has he passed?” the old man panted, and I shook my head, unsure of who he was speaking to. “The jaguar-man came to me and confessed his sins,” he continued. “It was a first for me, to say the least.” I almost smiled at the thought of that great, black beast squeezing into a confessional.
“He’s near to death, but we’re going to try to save him. You may stay, but only if you remain silent and do not interfere.” Onyxis’s sultry voice silenced the man, who gaped at her, stunned.
“Night Mother, please. Release the padre and let’s focus on Somayo,” I asked, struggling to keep my voice low. “Father O’Connell, please step back and let us work.”
The priest made his way to the head of the table and stood by Simi’s side, and I watched as he prayed in unison with her, without her missing a beat. Onyxis glanced at me, and I shrugged, knowing that as much as I wanted there to be a God who would protect a servant as loyal as Somayo, the closest things to deity I’d ever known were in the tent with us already, hoping to work our miracle.
Onyxis deftly sliced through the skin of her wrist, quickly draining a small amount of blood from the vein before it closed up again. Maria shook her head and Onyxis sliced again. She drained a little more the second time, and Maria took the cup and added some herbs from a large wooden bowl on the table next to us.
Next, Nick reached across Somayo and placed a hand on my forearm holding out the other for Onyxis, who held it and closed her eyes in concentration. I felt her magic move through me without any of the lights or energy that usually dissipated into the air around me when I tried to focus for Caroline’s magic. Instead, a ball of heat and light, a miniature sun of power suddenly warmed my insides, healing what I failed to on my own and then escaping my body just as instantaneously.
Nick inhaled sharply, and I knew he was feeling the power. I wondered what it gave him as it took from his strength and added it to what little I’d been able to share. Maria circled the table with her wooden cup of blood and herbs and stopped at me, holding out the cup and the blade, handle first, for me to take. Unwilling to let go of my friend, I turned my arm to give her access after glancing at Simi and getting her nod of approval.
It was more complex magic than I’d ever been a part of, nothing like the bulldozer of pure power that Caroline wielded but delicate and intricately balanced between the earth magic I recognized from Henny, our pack witch, and the blood magic of the Fae.
Onyxis gently moved Simi to one side and took her place at the table, lifting Somayo’s head and holding his jaw open so Maria could drip a few drops of the contents of the cup onto his tongue. We waited for any sign that the magic had entered his system, but under my hand Somayo’s pulse, when there was no change, Nick turned the unconscious hunter’s forearm over and slid one sharp fingernail from wrist to elbow. I flinched at the sight of more bloodletting when he was already so damaged, but when I met Simi’s eyes, I gave her a solemn nod.
Maria painted the thin, scarlet line on Somayo’s arm with the blood and herbs then removed the bandage and did the same. Father O’Connell, Simi, and I exchanged a worried look, but to his credit the priest said nothing. He simply paled and returned to praying. I could see the regret in Simi’s eyes even in the shadows, and I knew that my wolf was awake and that she might not forgive me for letting her make the decision to taint his human blood with magic.
The blood on Somayo’s arm remained inert, but the blood that Maria had placed along the edges of his wound began to bubble and hiss as it fought the toxins that were cooking Somayo in his own skin. Nick back away from the hunter and started to pace the length of the table, shaking his head.
“We can’t do this in half-steps, Onyxis. Look at him.” The vampire queen nodded her agreement and turned to the priest.
“Please take the lady hunter out with you and wait with the others. She will not wish to see what comes next.” Simi drew two knives and held them over her lover’s body, snarling at both Onyxis and Nick.
“You will not touch him,” she hissed, and Father O’Connell touched her arm gently. “No, they’re killing him,” she sobbed, her words raking across my heart.
“I’ll do it, Simi,” I said and changed just my hand to elongate the fingers and release the curved black claws of my wolf. “I can change now. I’ll bite him.”
“Onyxis is the most powerful, Clay. Her bite is sure to save him,” Nick argued, but Simi nodded.
“Somayo envies the wolves. He respects them. I can’t be the reason he died, even if you can bring him back.” She sniffled and let the padre take the dagger closest to him, lowering her arms to her sides. “Don’t let him hate me too much, Clay,” she whispered as she was led past me. My gut clenched, but I held on to Somayo until she disappeared through the tent flaps and it grew dark again.
“You can spread your magic like a disease?” Portia asked, sticking her head inside the tent. “I’ve heard the stories but thought they were just false rumors.”
“If you came back in just to be an asshole, you should go, Cetan,” I replied to her, calling her by her Fae lineage rather than her name, the way she called me “wolf.”
“I came to witness one of the ways the Fae-kin are stronger than we are. I didn’t mean to offend,” she replied by way of apology.
“You never do, Portia, and yet . . .” I broke off and forced myself through a change as agonizing as my first, feeling my bones break and reknit as they lengthened, muscles tearing and healing instantly. I felt the fur that grew out of me as though each individual hair was a needle through my skin, and despite myself, I groaned in pain and sagged against the table, shifting Somayo toward Nick, who held him and the table steady.
“Clay.” Nick stopped himself after one word, but in it I heard the same concern I had over his own people or the wererats who called him their master, and I was grateful to know he cared as much about me as his own clan. My muzzle wasn’t shaped for human speech, but I managed to do my best to alleviate any concern that I could do my part.
“I’m fine. The venom I was fighting rebooted my system. You all just witnessed a wolf’s first change without the terror and confusion that usually comes with.” I thought for a moment. “God. I hope I don’t have to go through all the painful changes again.”
“You’re too strong for that, wolf. Now heal your friend so we can gather our forces to fight and subdue my brother,” Portia snapped. I showed her m
y teeth, and she backed away, giving me the space I needed to do the one thing I never thought I’d allow myself to do. I leaned over Somayo’s throat and bit down on it, hard enough to crush his trachea and leave my saliva into the raw gaping wound I left.
The moment I pulled away, Portia and Maria clamped gauze down over the wound and I fell to the floor retching and spitting out my friends flesh and blood, even as the wolf reveled in the first blood of the hunt and I felt a breeze that wasn’t born of nature stir within the camp.
I managed to shift back and resume my post at my friend’s side as he gripped my arm and gasped for air.
“I’m sorry, old friend,” I murmured. “We were selfish and didn’t want you to die. Please don’t blame Simi. This pain you feel is my fault, all of it.” His grasp on me tightened and I hissed in pain and glanced as it took a knife-edge quality to it. The blood that Maria had given him had interacted with the saliva from my bite and was changing him right before our eyes. I’d avoided using my saliva in the first place because it was so infectious—belatedly I realized that I should have done the difficult thing first and bitten him without the additional magic, which seemed to be accelerating a change that should’ve taken hours down to minutes.
The pain I’d just endured seemed nothing next to the writhing, groaning man on the gurney in front of me, and I held on to him for dear life, praying to end his suffering, even if that meant his death. Finally, a scream escaped him, and my eyes shot to his throat as Portia backed away from him with blood-soaked gauze. The skin of his neck was a smooth, unblemished bronze. Frantically, Nick grabbed the sheets and bandages that we’d covered his abdomen in, yanking them off him to reveal a dark, toned stomach where before there had been purulent oozing gashes.
Simi burst into the tent with Ashlynn and the padre not far behind her, holding her back as her eyes raked over his body, and she gripped my arm, shaking me as she laughed and cried into my shoulder.
“He’s . . . he’s alive, right?” she said, her British accent thickened by emotion.
“Yes, my dear. He is alive and, hopefully, well,” Maria reassured her. “You were both very brave, but I think mister Somayo and our alpha wolf both need to rest while we call in the cavalry.”
“What do you mean?” Nick asked cautiously. “I have half the wolf pack, my wererats, and every vampire I could spare coming on a second flight. They’ll make it to camp by midnight.”
“She’s right Nick,” I panted. “Vash tore through us like paper dolls, and that was after he totaled two were jaguars and several humans. He’s not slowing down or stopping. God, he hasn’t even hit his stride yet.”
“So, we pull out and let the Fae handle it?” he asked, and Onyxis stood straighter.
“No, we most certainly do not. It is the High Fae who made him like this, and I don’t trust my brothers and sisters with him now.” She gave Nick a meaningful look. “We know where he can be imprisoned until we reclaim the weapon that took his sanity.”
I looked at Somayo, who was breathing deeply but still not conscious. I placed my hand over his forearm and felt his elevated temperature, like most shifters. At least I could tell Simi he wasn’t a vampire, that he hadn’t become the thing he hunted with near perfect precision in every kill. His pulse was fast but steady, his skin hot to the touch, but not fevered. He hadn’t even shifted yet, and even the scars from injuries he’d received years before were gone. He had been a near-perfect hunter for the Venatores, and now he was a hunter, perfected.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The tent was filled with a cacophony of sound as Simi argued with the Fae and Nick joined her. The debate drew in the missing members of our team, and soon Caroline and Ashlynn and even Father O’Connell added their voices on various sides of the argument. They were so loud and contentious that first I wondered how Somayo could still be unconscious and then if anyone would notice if I took him somewhere else to rest while they fought about the best way for us to commit suicide.
“Stop!” Nick yelled, loudly enough that he shook the tent poles. “This is getting us nowhere. Where is the werejaguar now? We need his wisdom. His family has protected humanity for centuries, and we think we can go fight on the enemy’s land without him?”
“I don’t know where he went. Presumably he’s back on the mountain, ready to fight or warn us if Vash makes him move.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Caroline asked from behind her husband.
“Then we thank God for giving us extra time and get more witches, warlocks, Vaudun priests, shaman, druids, whichever magical-wielding people aren’t make-believe because hell if I know who’s real and who isn’t anymore . . .” I paused in my babbling as Ashlynn’s arms slid around my waist and she held me, anchoring me. “We get as many different kinds of magic together as we can and attempt to recreate the only prison we know ever actually held a god.”
“I’m afraid I have much more somber news,” came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Jasiri, bleeding profusely and cradling what was left of his arm against his chest.
A chair was produced from somewhere, and Maria brought more bandages from somewhere as her daughter examined the arm and conjured more wisps to combat the growing dark of twilight.
“Oh, for the love of . . . get some lanterns in here, please?” Ashlynn called out and stuck her head out of the tent, handing three LED lights back to me as they were given to her. Soon we had real light and the wisps faded back to wherever they’d been conjured from, and Jasiri was surrounded by helping hands, sewing, bandaging, or magically removing pain as best as they could. Nick and I stood back with the priest and watched over Somayo, impatiently waiting to hear what Jasiri had to tell us.
“Can he speak while you tend to his wounds or are we going to let the Quetzalcoatl get farther ahead of us and kill even more people before we can move?” Nick’s voice cut through the low voices that conferred over the jaguar, and everyone but Maria fell back.
“I’ll tend to him. We’ll all listen. I don’t want anything to happen to the people of Brazil, but I don’t want any of you mortally wounding my son either,” Maria scolded as she deftly stitched one of the gashes on his arm.
The scene was surreal. I’d never had so much damage to my team before the battle was won. Tending wounds and big magic was supposed to be our end game, not the jumping off point of the battle. Jasiri’s wounds looked almost as infected and purulent as Somayo’s had before we changed him, and if he couldn’t change like I hadn’t been able to, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the poison in his system, no matter how well he was stitched up.
Part of me wanted to let the battle go to the Fae, to keep my people as far from the fight as possible. Still more wanted to find whatever magic-users could recreate his prison and put him back while we figured out how to take the Fairy King’s cherished weapon and undo whatever he’d done to turn his son into a mindless killer.
Your thoughts are all over the place, Clay, Caroline’s words sounded in my mind like cool water on a fever. Concentrate. Calm down. The jaguar is in no place to be leading us, and Nick and the clan are only good while the moon is up. We’re going to need your leadership and your protection from the cunning of fairies.
“Jasiri, can you speak?” I asked, making sure I infused my tone with respect for the jaguar.
“I don’t know if there’s any point to speaking. The Quetzalcoatl came down from the mountain while I was burying the dead, giving them some semblance of a proper sendoff, at least. He attacked, and I hardly had time to fight back before I was on my back, my arm half ripped off and the man I was carrying soaring straight up in the sky away from me. A few seconds later, it came crashing back down on me. I was hit in the head and knocked unconscious. When I came to, the clearing had two fresh bodies.” He turned to Simi and forced his head back so he could look her in the eyes. “I believe they were your trackers. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry we didn’t force you to accept our help and make you take a man with you, who co
uld’ve come and got us the moment you were hurt,” Simi snapped, placing her hand on Somayo’s chest as it gently rose and fell. “We’ve been chasing smoke for all I’ve seen here. Clay and Jasiri are the only ones who’ve had eyes on the creature who can tell us about it. I’d suggest we start listening and stop drawing our own conclusions.”
“That’s harder for some, who know Vash as something other than what I’ve seen,” I reminded her, nodding at Portia. “What did you see when you came looking for him on your own?”
“I saw nothing,” Portia confessed angrily. “He hid from me. He wouldn’t fight or come out of whatever hole he was in to let me see his face. For all I know, that isn’t even my brother up there.”
“Down here,” Jasiri corrected. “Last I saw of him. He was headed northeast, toward Caracarai.”
“That’s no village. That’s a full-fledged, modern town,” the priest interjected, speaking out for the first time since Jasiri had returned. He said nothing of my nakedness, or Jasiri’s, and I wondered if my initial discomfort with the casual nudity of shape shifters was based on my own puritanical beliefs. He instantly put that thought to rest when he handed the werejaguar and me both coarse camp blankets to wrap ourselves in.
I put mine around my waist and tied it off like a sarong, and Jasiri let Maria drape his over his shoulders. More stools were brought out of the corners, and Ashlynn motioned the priest to a seat. Nick and I stayed near Somayo, and as the others readied themselves to listen, I watched all the ticks and spasms of his muscles as he went through whatever internal changes my bite was causing him.
