blood and magic 02 - kissed by fire

by Danielle Annett

  I could hear the monster’s feet behind me, his steps loud as they crunched the frozen ground. Two feet from the tractor now, I was almost there. I hastily climbed on top of it, turning just in time to see the chupacabra open its mouth. I launched off the tractor and dove over the monster. My feet cleared its shoulder as I sailed past, but not before a claw swiped at me, digging into my thigh. My scream of pain echoed through the night, quickly turning into a battle cry as I turned, twisting my body and digging my blade into its back, allowing my momentum to carry me around it. My blade dug a large arc in the scales, but the cut was shallow. No blood could be seen, and when my feet touched the ground, I jerked my blade free and ran without stopping to see if I’d done any further damage.

  My thigh throbbed with each step I took. My jeans were soaked through with blood. This wasn’t good. The wound wept profusely, and I wondered how long I could make it with so much blood loss.

  The chupacabra roared, its scream causing my heart rate to pick up that much more. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, but for how much longer, I didn’t know. My flames now covered the blades in my palms, but neither seemed to be doing me any good. The monster’s back was heavily armored. If I attacked its front, I would put myself at too great a risk of injury and death.

  Before I could decide on what to do next, it charged yet again. All I could do was run, and pray that its endurance ran out soon.

  I was running low on fumes. I couldn’t hold out much longer. Each second felt like an hour. Sweat dripped down my brow but I couldn’t stop moving. To stop would be to die. I’d run for miles from the monster, taking me deeper into the surrounding trees. It never gave up the chase. The evergreens had acted as a barrier between the creature and I. They’d slowed him down some but the never-ending branches, brush, and rocks had slowed me down as well.

  I could hear tires in the distance, and I tasted the first remnants of hope since facing the monster. I heard a vehicle park not far from where I stood, but didn’t take my eyes off of the chupacabra. We were facing one another, both breathing heavily. I stood to the side of a large tree, my right arm braced against it for support. My feet were ready to run once more at a seconds notice. I could just barely make out the faint glow of Mr. Ortiz’s porch light through the branches and wondered if I should run towards the light, or further away from it.

  My saving grace was that at least the damn thing was as tired of running around as I was. Boots hit the ground running. I exhaled a relieved breath. Help had arrived much quicker than I’d expected. James must have been near by when he received the call.

  My breathing was labored, blood soaking both my jeans and my shirt now. The damn thing had gotten multiple hits in. The sound of the car had halted the monster’s approach. It looked around trying to find the source of the noise and I was able to take a breath and catch my bearings as its eyes surveyed the area. It roared, and I heard the howl of wolves echo its cry. Wolves. James was here, and he hadn't come alone. Thank God.

  My head was spinning and spots were blurring my vision. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found myself kissing the ground within the next few seconds. Two wolves quickly passed by me—each in varying shades of auburn—followed by a coyote that looked familiar. Their paws kicked up dirt and twigs as the three shifters launched themselves at the beast before me. James and Declan drew up the rear, both still in their human forms.

  “Who’s the coyote?” I asked.

  James flashed a grin, “You didn’t think Robert would miss out on all the fun, did you?” He was an idiot. This was not fun. I let my body lean against the tree, relief washing over me.

  The wolves attacked in unison, each rending big chunks of flesh with their teeth and claws, but the monster still stood. Robert was much more cautious, using stealth and speed to run in and sink his fangs into softer flesh. The spots behind the knees seemed to be his target. He’d then dance away, using the surrounding trees as cover.

  “What the hell is that thing?” James asked, a hint of awe in his voice.

  “Chupacabra.” My voice came out in a huff. Declan turned glowing eyes on me, his tiger at the forefront. I began counting the length of time I’d been running from this thing. I couldn’t believe I’d lasted this long. I felt like I’d just run a marathon.

  A yip drew my attention back to the fight and I realized they were now fighting defensively. The monster was winning, and it had only been a matter of minutes. I’d waged war against the creature for over half an hour and yet it still had the upper hand. I pushed away from the tree and took a step forward, but a hand on my arm stopped me.

  “No, you’re too weak. Wait here,” James said before running towards the monster. Declan was right behind him. Both maintained their human forms, but their hands had elongated, claws forming on each of their fingers as they did a partial shift.

  I watched as five shifters attacked the beast, but they never gained any real ground. Robert and one of the wolves nipped at its feet to distract it, the third wolf lunging at its right arm, taking a mouthful of flesh with each pass. James and Declan used their claws to shred whatever they came into contact with. It barely bled. I’d lost my daggers at some point while running, and my reserves were too low and my fire too useless against the chupacabra’s natural defenses. I needed to figure out a way to bring it down. It had to have some sort of vulnerability.

  I swayed on my feet as I tried to come up with a plan, but nothing I thought of would work. Most of my ideas didn’t even make sense, my brain too rattled to think clearly. My side throbbed and I gripped my ribs. Blood seeped between my fingers, and that was when things began clicking into place.

  I hadn’t lost all of my daggers, not the one that really mattered. I pulled up the hem of my shirt, peeling the soaked fabric away from my flesh and ripping it free, the material ruined beyond repair. Multiple bruises bloomed across my stomach. I had crisscross marks and gouges covering my torso, but my tattooed dagger remained untouched. I exhaled a sign of relief as I pressed my fingers into my flesh, pulling the magical blade free from my skin.

  It hurt. God, it hurt.

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out and instead focused on the sounds of the battle before me. I used it to fuel my resolve. I hissed when the tip of the dagger came free. Pulling the magical dagger I’d had tattooed on my body was always painful, but this time it had been excruciating. But if I was right, it would all be worth it.

  The dagger was impervious to all types of magic, at least all those I’d come into contact with so far. It was why I’d been able to stab Inarus through his telekinetic shield back on the Compound’s roof when I’d found out he’d betrayed me. The chupacabra was a magical creature and despite its hide, it shouldn’t have been able to remain this intact without a little magical help. If I could get close enough and hit it in a vulnerable enough spot with my blade, I could take it down. I had to try. The blade slid free from my flesh and in my hand I held a six-inch dagger, sharp and smooth but for the glyphs engraved on the blade’s surface.

  A howl of pain pierced the air as one of the wolves was thrown to the side, an audible crack heard clearly upon his landing. He didn’t get up. Shit. I watched in horror as the wolf shifted to his human form. It was Brock, one of Declan’s sentries. His body had forced him back to his human form to recover, but he wasn’t moving and was virtually defenseless.

  Declan and James both moved with blinding speed, their claws digging into the creature with little result. Robert and the other wolf circled the monster but kept their distance; blood dripped from evident wounds on both of them and they were clearly tired, their breaths coming out in labored huffs.

  The chupacabra reared its head, swiping in a wide arc. All of the shifters jumped to avoid the hit, but in doing so they left a clear path between the monster and Brock’s prone and naked form. I had to do something.

  It took a step towards Brock and I ran, blade in hand, ignoring the pain in my body. I would not let it get to Brock. I didn’t
know the man well, had only spoken to him a handful of times, but he’d never been anything but nice to me, and he didn’t deserve to die when he’d come to my aid.

  I closed the distance and the monster remained unaware of my presence, too focused on the prone body before him. I prayed it would keep its focus off of me and give me the element of surprise. The other shifters, having seen the chupacabra’s intended direction, began stalking it from behind. They formed a semi-circle around it, clearly formulating a plan as they went. They weren’t acting fast enough, though.

  I was ten feet away when I heard James call out. “Ari, don’t!”

  The monster’s head lifted and blood-red eyes latched onto mine. Come on you, ugly bastard, I’m right here. It was ten feet away from me, but only five feet away from Brock. The monster looked to Brock, the easier target, but as I sped forward, its attention turned solely to me and it stepped in my direction, arms raised to strike. That’s right, come on. I saw James from the corner of my eye as he tried to intercept the attack, but he wasn’t going to make it.

  I gripped the hilt of my blade with an iron grasp and poured all of my rage and pain into a fierce shriek as I charged the beast as fast as my legs would take me. We collided in a crash of fur and flesh and I dug my blade deep into the monster’s side. Flames erupted along my arms, extending to the blade as it slid in with little resistance, cutting through meat until it struck bone. The monster raised its head and roared in pain before using its claws to dig into my shoulders. I cried out, my flames faltered, but I kept my grip and used my legs for leverage as I pulled the blade down in a wide sweep to cut broader and deeper. I prayed that I would strike something vital.

  My vision clouded and my head began spinning from the pain as the claws in my shoulder hit bone. It pulled one hand free, pieces of my flesh coming with it, and before I could adjust, it struck out and knocked me from my feet. The blade came with me, still gripped in my hand. My body struck the ground, the frost cold against my cheek, and dark spots formed in my vision. I struggled to get up.

  My limbs wouldn’t respond to my brain, and I found myself too weak to even lift my head. I felt my dagger fall from my now limp fingers and hoped James or Declan would retrieve it. Maybe one of them could use it to take that damn bastard down.

  A thundering roar of pain hit my ears. Someone had struck out at the monster again. A loud crash echoed through the night and then all went silent. I struggled to breath. I rolled to my side as I began to cough. Blood spewed with each retch. That couldn't be good. My eyelids felt heavy. My vision grew darker with each breath.

  I was so tired. Sleep called to me but I tried to resist. I knew that I’d lost too much blood, that it was still seeping from my wounds. I needed medical attention, but out here in Green Bluff, I wasn’t going to find any.

  “Aria, Aria! Stay with me.” I felt my body pulled into a warm embrace. I was so cold, I tried to get closer, but my body wouldn’t respond. I wasn’t used to feeling the bite of winter.

  “Aria, don’t close your eyes. Stay with me, just stay awake. Dammit, listen to me.”

  A small smile escaped me. James was always such a hothead when he was upset. It would be okay, though. I just needed to rest. He shook my shoulders, and had I had the energy, I would have yelled at him. It hurt; my entire body hurt. Why wouldn’t he just leave me alone? I just wanted to sleep. I thought I’d earned it.

  “She’s lost too much blood,” I heard someone say.

  James growled above me, “She’s going to make it. She has to.” I didn’t know who he was talking to, but there was conviction in his voice. I took comfort in it. I knew I’d be okay. They just needed to let me sleep. A little rest and I’d be alright. My head lolled to the side and I closed my eyes. I heard voices but couldn’t make out the words. I didn’t care what they were saying anymore.

  I felt myself being lifted and a moan escaped me. God, it hurt. The sharp pain caused me to open my eyes and hiss. I found myself in Declan’s arms as he walked with measured steps towards the vehicle they’d come in.

  Oh good, we were leaving. Visions of my bed swam before me and I envisioned myself being tucked into my cozy green comforter. Someone opened the car door and Declan slid my body along the back seat. Rather than climbing in the front seat, I felt him slide in beside me, his body pressed up against mine as we lay horizontal on the leather seats. Why wasn’t he getting in the front seat? Why weren’t we driving away?

  Declan tucked a stray curl behind my ear. I tried to focus on him but my vision blurred, my breaths coming in short gasps that made my chest ache and my ribs feel like they were cracking with each exhale.

  “I’m sorry, there’s no other way.”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about. Maybe I was dying. Maybe this was his way of helping me pass on, not that I had any plans of heading off into the sunset. Not yet. I felt his hand on my cheek and for a split second, I almost liked him. He was being nice for once.

  “Please forgive me,” he said.

  I didn’t know what there was to forgive, but I was not okay with dying. I had just gone through hell and had the crap beat out of me by a freaking chupacabra. I was not going out like this. No way in hell. I opened my mouth to tell Declan exactly that when I felt his hand slide further down my neck. He gently tilted my head to the side, and before I could say or do anything else, I felt his breath on my neck followed by a stab of pain right before everything went black.

  God, my neck hurt. I reached for my throat and felt the flaking of a dried scab beneath my fingers on the left side. Ow! Opening my eyes, my vision started out dim and my eyes struggled to focus in on my surroundings. I let loose a small moan. I heard a rustle of movement to my right before a wave of concern washed over me.

  What the hell?

  I turned my head, blinking several times in an effort to focus on Declan as he came closer, claiming the seat beside my bed. “What the hell happened?” I croaked, my throat raw.

  “You were severely injured but you should be okay. Just rest,” he said. He lifted a hand as if to touch me before pulling back.

  “The chupacabra?”

  “Dead.”

  I nodded. Thank God.

  “And Brock?”

  “Embarrassed, but he’ll make a full recovery.” That was good.

  The concern I’d felt only moments ago was quickly morphing into an anxiety I couldn’t quit put my finger on. I rubbed my hands over my arms. What the hell was going on?

  “Are you feeling alright?” Declan asked, his hand coming to rest on my forearm. A warmth bloomed in my chest, and for some reason, his touch made me…happy. I couldn’t explain it. I pulled my arm away from him and rubbed away the feeling of his touch. His emerald eyes bored into mine and I had the strangest feeling that we were…I wasn’t entirely sure. I felt connected to him somehow, which was the only reason that I knew he was keeping something from me. It wasn’t a gut feeling or anything like that. Something inside of me told me he had a secret, something he didn’t want to tell me. He was worried about me, anxious about whatever it was that he wasn’t telling me. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did. It was more than intuition, and I trusted the feeling.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Declan looked away, practically hanging his head in shame. Something was seriously wrong. A small flame flickered along my wrist. I stared at the fire for a moment, surprised by its sudden appearance. I could feel Declan’s eyes on the flame, the reflection dancing within his eyes before I snuffed it out.

  I turned my palms face up and concentrated on calling fire to them. I released a breath when they appeared again. At least I had some measure of control over something. I stared at the fire as the seconds ticked away, allowing their dance to settle my nerves. There was something about the fire that calmed me, and for some reason, it seemed to have the same effect on Declan. I heard him release a breath and watched through the corner of my eye as the tension seemed to seep out of his shoulders. He leaned forward an
d folded his hands in front of himself as he watched the flames in my palms sway to and fro. When close to five minutes had passed, I closed my hands into fists and extinguished the fire with effort, closing my eyes as I inhaled the slight scent of smoke that remained behind.

  I opened my eyes to meet Declan’s gaze and waited.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  I turned my head to the side and waited for more. What was he sorry for, and why did I know that he ached for my forgiveness?

  “I forced you into something that you didn’t ask for and all I can say is that I’m sorry. I—” He looked away. “I don’t know why I did it, only that I couldn’t let you die. My tiger wouldn’t let you die.” He reached out for my hand and instinctively I pulled away.

  I threw the blankets off that covered my legs and quickly stood. I didn’t want to be laying down for this conversation. I didn’t want to be in a vulnerable position. My body swayed for several seconds as I fought to remain on my feet. When Declan moved to steady me, I held a hand up, halting him.

  “What do you mean your tiger wouldn’t let me die? What did you do?” I asked, my voice rising in the quiet room as I began to grow frantic. I rubbed my hand over my chest; there was an ache forming akin to what I’d felt when Mike had died, when I’d lost my parents. I didn’t know why I felt the way I did, why I had the feeling that my heart was plummeting into my stomach. I was losing something precious and I didn’t know how to stop it.

  But I wasn’t losing something. I wasn’t losing anything, not that I knew of anyway. None of this was making any sense. My own damn feelings weren’t making sense to me. My chest ached, the pain a physical one that wouldn’t go away. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes and I growled in frustration. Dammit, I would not cry. I didn’t have anything to be upset over. No one had died. No one was seriously hurt, but I was terrified. That was the indescribable feeling that rested just beneath the surface. I was absolutely terrified and I couldn’t place the reasoning behind it.