Souls to Heal

by Tilly Wallace

  Alice stirred. “Who is it?”

  He cast a glance in her direction and motioned for her to stay in bed. The sooner he told whoever it was to sod off, the sooner he could climb back into bed and pull her on top of him. “Some inconsiderate buffoon who is lucky I don’t put a knife in him for disturbing us.”

  He lit the lantern on the table and then pulled the door open to see two figures standing in the rain. Jimmy and Crufts. They didn’t wait to be invited but pushed inside and shut the door behind them before the gust of wind blew the candle out. Crufts chortled on seeing Alice. Ewan moved to stand between the men and the naked woman.

  “What do you want?” He eyed the intruders as they dripped water on the floor.

  “Nice way to pass the afternoon,” Crufts said, peering around Ewan to leer at Alice.

  Ewan shrugged. “I have a beautiful wife and it’s raining—what would you do, play cards?”

  Jimmy scowled at Crufts and then pointed out the window. “Boat’s coming in and weather’s rough. We need all hands to help.”

  Ewan swore under his breath. There went his plans for the rest of the evening. “Very well, but I need to finish dressing.”

  Alice rolled over to her side and the sheet barely covered half her body. It slid down to her hip and revealed the swell and dip of her form. Only her forearm hid her breasts. Ewan sucked in a breath. The woman could play the temptress, and next to him Crufts was drawing in shallow breaths like a panting dog.

  “Wouldn’t you rather come back to bed, husband?” she asked, running a finger along her swollen bottom lip.

  What he would give to shove the men out the door and return to her. He wanted to spend hours, or preferably days, learning every inch of her skin and finding the hidden spots that drove her wild. His wolf wanted to inhale her scent and rub against her, but this was his chance to have at Forge. “I need to go, love. Work calls.”

  “Hurry up—five minutes and we leave. We’ll have your horse saddled and waiting.” Jimmy grabbed Crufts by the collar of his jacket and hauled him out the door.

  Ewan walked back to Alice, cradled her head, and took a long kiss.

  “I am going to need to call out Crufts after that,” he whispered.

  Alice laughed as he grabbed the rest of his clothing and dressed as fast as his body allowed. With a final look at her, he hurried out into the rain.

  Outside, the horses were already saddled and waiting, rain running down their coats. Ewan patted his gelding and silently thanked Quinn for finding a placid horse. The others were spooked by the weather, but his bay was too dense to be worried by a bit of cold water. He walked the horse to the well and balanced on the stone edge to climb on.

  As he awkwardly landed in the saddle, he remembered a summer day two years before, when he and the other Highland Wolves had played at tent pegging. He used to be able to hang off the side of the saddle to spear a token or bounce from one side to the other. But no more. Not until he rid his body of the blasted French magic. At least Alice had reminded him that he still possessed mastery of other skills, judging by the soft cries she had made all afternoon.

  The rain eased to a persistent drizzle as they rode down to the cove. Due to the storm, dusk had dropped straight into night. Luckily, the men all knew the way as darkness wrapped around them. Ewan wiped rain from his eyes and squinted out to sea. He couldn’t see a vessel approaching, but rough waves might conceal her, and they often ran with no light showing to avoid detection by the excise men.

  The sheltered cove had conveniently close trees that shadowed the path to the beach. On the other side of the semi-circle of sand was a trail up the bank that could only be traversed by men. That path led to a small opening half way up, invisible from above due to the angle of the rock.

  Half way down the path, the men pulled their horses to a halt. Ewan slid from his mount, hanging on to its mane to keep his legs under him, and then looped the reins over a tree branch.

  “Where’s the boat?” he asked Jimmy.

  The big man shrugged. “Must be running late due to the weather.”

  Highly possible the storm would delay its progress. But they had sought him out saying the boat was coming in, which implied a lookout had spotted it. Perhaps the swell and waves kept it farther off shore.

  A cold feeling slithered down Ewan’s back along with the rain, and deep inside his wolf growled a warning.

  Ewan paused on the beach. His gaze flicked from the narrow track cut through the rock and then back out to the rough ocean. “Should we not wait here for the boat to approach?”

  “The other lads were going to meet us in the cave, they’ll know where it is.” Jimmy led off towards the tunnels. Crufts dropped behind Ewan, and the ice that ran along his spine turned to a lump of dread in his gut. There should have been at least five other men ready to man the dinghies and cart barrels and crates from the main vessel. If they were in the cavern, then where were their horses?

  The tunnel gave one last twist and then a flicker of light revealed their destination. Lanterns were set on barrels at the back, and flames within an iron brazier created a small bubble of warmth in the chill cavern. Around the edges of the space were the rows of tightly stacked barrels. Ewan let out a sigh that Forge had not yet begun distributing the contents.

  A single figure sat in the shadows, using a box as a chair and a barrel as a table. He played with a deck of cards, laying them one at a time on the circular top. The rest of the crew were absent. Crufts shuffled to a halt behind Ewan, and Jimmy side stepped out of his way.

  Ewan had been collected for a private meeting with the vampyre. Somehow he doubted it was to discuss a promotion.

  “Do take a seat, Lieutenant Shaw.” Forge gestured to the tea chest on the opposite side of his table.

  “Captain, actually; I was promoted a year ago when Hamish became major.” Ewan considered his options as he walked over and sat down. Jimmy alone could overpower him, even if he weren’t still nursing a broken body. Three to one was foul odds, and he had to admit the situation was dire.

  “I do apologise—Captain Shaw.” Forge tapped the remaining cards in his hand and then set them down. “You very nearly fooled me with your extra flesh and muddy hair and eyes. A simple disguising spell, I assume. Recently one of the lads said you helped him tie an impeccable knot in a cravat. That triggered my memory—such a strange detail for an average soldier. Then when I danced with your lovely wife, I couldn’t help but notice the necklace she wears—a wolf.”

  Done in by a piece of jewellery, and it wasn’t even a thing Ewan had given Alice.

  Forge held up a small compass, but instead of pointing north the needle swung around to point at Ewan. “A French mage gave me this. There’s wolfsbane inside the case, and with a simple spell, the needle now points to the nearest lupine. I never thought to need it here, but imagine my surprise when it revealed that a wolf sat across from me in the Dancing Sow. I heard the French shot one of you with a silver bullet, and I am delighted to learn it was you. I do hope the pain is excruciating.”

  Ewan glared at the compass. There was a piece of intelligence he needed to pass on to his regiment. It would be handy if the British mages created a similar device to locate vampyres.

  “Speaking of bullets, as I recollect last time we met in London you took a shot in the chest from Alick's wife. Made quite the hole in your chest. I’m curious, if you take off your shirt could we see right through you?” Ewan asked.

  “Unlike a mangy cur such as yourself, I cannot be killed. All I required was a little time to heal and a fortifying . . . wine.” He grinned and exposed sharp canines.

  “Did you invite me down here for a catch up, or do you wish to surrender in private?” Ewan glanced to the other men. If he could reach the knife in his boot, it would even the odds and he might yet escape the situation.

  “Oh, we have much more to discuss yet. Tie him up, Jimmy. I have a few questions I would like the captain to answer.” Forge leaned back against
the cavern wall and watched from under hooded eyes.

  Jimmy grinned as he and Crufts stepped forward with a length of rope.

  Ewan rose to his feet while instinct told him events were not going to unfold in his favour.

  “Dirty traitor.” Jimmy spat on the floor and then struck out, punching Ewan hard in the gut.

  Ewan doubled over as the breath left his body with a whoosh. While he tried to regain his composure, Crufts seized his arms and Jimmy looped the rope tight around his torso and wrists, locking his arms behind him. Then they shoved him back down on the tea chest.

  “You do realise I fight for England, Jimmy. The only traitor in this cavern is that creature who does the bidding of French masters.” Ewan gestured to Forge with a shrug of his shoulder. He figured Jimmy wasn’t very bright, but even he should have realised that Ewan was not the traitor.

  Jimmy frowned and glanced to his boss. The cogs were slow to turn in his thick skull, and Ewan hoped he realised he was backing the wrong man. With Jimmy on his side, he could capture the vampyre.

  “Hit him again, Jimmy,” Forge said as he rose and came to stand in front of Ewan.

  Jimmy lashed out again, punching Ewan hard in the face, and his head snapped back. His vision turned black as pain burst over his cheek and eye. His wolf tried to rise to the surface, but the silver yanked it back down.

  “Where are the others?” Forge asked.

  Ewan blinked to clear the stars dancing in front of his eyes and then frowned. “Others?”

  Forge moved with lightning speed, his fingers wrapping around Ewan’s throat. Then he squeezed hard enough to make the blood pound in Ewan’s ears and his vision narrow. Inside him the wolf was frantic, trying to free itself. Now both of them were bound and helpless.

  “You never work alone—where is Logan? He must be close by, but I cannot smell him, nor does my compass reveal any other dogs but you.” Forge leaned closer.

  Blood washed over Ewan’s tongue and he did a quick count of his teeth. “If by close you mean across the Channel, then certainly, he is close to hand.”

  Forge squeezed tighter. Air was cut off to Ewan’s lungs, and his body burned with the need to draw a breath. His only consolation was that Forge wouldn’t kill him like this. It was too clean.

  “What do you mean?” Forge asked with the same tone you might ask someone to pass the salt. He never raised his voice, and neither frustration nor anger coloured his words.

  Ewan huffed a brief laugh. “In case you have forgotten, the war is not yet over. While I am of no use to my regiment, they continue to fight the French. Sorry to disappoint you, but I am alone.”

  “No, you’re not.” For the briefest second, interest flared in Forge’s dead eyes and then it was gone.

  Dread plummeted through Ewan so fast his stomach nearly turned. He swallowed down bile and forced his features to remain impassive. “Leave her out of this. Alice knows nothing.”

  Inside Ewan, a storm was unleashed while his exterior remained as still as the glass surface of a millpond. The bonds that kept his darkest demon under control shattered as Forge whispered the words of danger aimed at Alice. In that instant, Ewan understood the truth of her words. His father and brother had never loved.

  The demon flowed over his prone wolf and enveloped it. All the parts of Ewan merged and became one monstrous creature that bayed for Forge’s blood for daring to bring Alice into this. The creature flexed and strained against the silver chains, and link by link, they cracked and gave way.

  He would either tear these men apart or lay down his life to protect Alice, such was his love for her. Never could he harm her; every bone in his body ached to ensure her safety.

  “You can torture me all you want, I have nothing to tell.” Ewan tried to bring Forge’s focus back to him. Alice was a smart woman and would know something was afoot when he didn’t return.

  “You and I are too similar, Shaw. Pain is something we embrace, but I see your weakness.” He pulled the knife free of Ewan’s boot and used it to pick at his claw-like nails as he spoke.

  Ewan swallowed the rage. He needed to keep a clear mind, to think his way out of this. Anger burned through his veins in such quantities that it battled the silver leached by the bullet. A little longer, and he would be able to release his beast.

  “You’ve been drinking too much of your brandy. Alice is part of my cover and nothing more,” Ewan said.

  Forge laughed, a chill sound that conjured images of a crypt. He pointed the dagger at Jimmy and Crufts. “Fetch the woman.”

  25

  Alice

  * * *

  After Ewan left, Alice stretched and rolled her shoulders. Deep within her, the last piece settled into its place within the mosaic of her soul. One sliver of her shredded soul had lodged within a handsome cavalry officer with a cool demeanour and, as other women whispered behind their fans, impenetrable armour around his heart.

  Alice had, unknowingly, used her mage-blood gift to conceal a shard within Ewan. His wolf had curled itself around the fragment as though it were a dragon hiding a gem. As they joined their bodies, the wolf had returned the piece to her.

  Peace drifted through her as she relished being complete after so long being fractured. Her hand stretched out to where Ewan had lain and the sheets were still warm from his body. Alice rolled over and hugged the pillow to her. Being with Ewan was far different than her limited previous experience. His entire focus had been on her as though she were the only woman in the entire world.

  While she had enjoyed the physical act before, society taught a woman that the man’s pleasure was paramount and a woman’s incidental. Ewan turned society’s expectations upside down as he threw her to levels of ecstasy she never dreamed were possible.

  He raised her to the sky where all her broken pieces became glittering jewels to be celebrated, not broken pottery to be discarded. She knew with certainly that she loved Ewan and that he had an equal capacity to love her. He just didn’t know it yet.

  Long ago, as they sat by the waterfall they had talked of transformations. Ewan had said she could never be fixed, but she could become something new. She had hidden away for long enough. The time had come to tear away the silken cloth binding her and reveal the new Alice—the stronger version, the one who would confront the world head on. Starting with helping the man she loved bring a traitor to justice and freeing his wolf.

  Ideas formed in her mind as she pondered how to kill an undead creature. She let her mind wander and explore how to merge herbs and magic. When something finally coalesced that might work, she left the bed and dressed.

  Alice gathered up what she needed in a basket and then she told Eilidh to stay put. Better the terrier was safe and warm in the cottage than a participant of what Alice had planned. The dog sighed, stared at her from under bushy eyebrows, and went back to sleep in front of the fire.

  She ran through the rain to the tavern. With her gift, she reached out to find Ewan. The air around her rippled and stroked her skin. Like throwing a rock into water, all she had to do was follow the ripples back to their point of origin to find him.

  Inside the tavern, she found the women in the kitchen, keeping watch on the evening’s supper.

  “The men came and got Sean—they said a boat is coming in. His leg has been bothering him something terrible lately, and I thought I would brew up a special potion to help ease some of his pain.” She grabbed a small pot and dropped it onto a free grate. What she planned to brew shouldn’t be ingested, and saying it was medicinal should stop anyone sticking a finger in to sample it.

  Alice added a glug of ale to the pot before measuring out her herbs. “I was hoping to take it down to him tonight, if you could do without me for an hour or so?”

  “With the lads busy and the tail of the storm out there, tonight will be a quiet one. Why don’t both you girls have the evening to yourselves? I’ll cope on my own. Daisy can hitch up the cart and take you out.” Gaffie continued stirring her pots.
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  “Of course I could, it would be lovely to surprise Jimmy.” Daisy winked. The woman was in a fine mood since her relationship had begun to heal.

  Alice needed to go alone, and she’d rather her new friend didn’t get hurt. “No point in two of us getting wet. Why don’t you stay here and draw a bath for yourself? I can find Sean with my gift.”

  Gaffie laughed. “That would have been a handy skill when my man was still alive. He was forever sneaking off, that one.”

  “Are you sure?” Daisy had a dreamy look in her eyes.

  Alice found a long spoon to stir her brew. “Of course. I’ll tell Jimmy to hurry home because you are waiting for him with a free evening.”

  Daisy hugged Alice from behind. “You are a grand friend. I’ll go drag the bath to our room.”

  “I’ll give you a hand once this is boiling. It needs to reduce down to a syrup.” Alice waited until her concoction was bubbling away, and then she helped Daisy carry the tin bath up the stairs to the large room she shared with Jimmy.

  The couple’s room was the direct opposite of Alice’s bare room in Ianthe’s house. Here every surface was crammed with ornaments and knickknacks. Quite apart from the sheer volume of items, Daisy seemed inordinately fond of pink. Alice had difficulty imaging the great lumbering Jimmy sleeping surrounded by pink porcelain figurines and pillows.

  Alice picked up a pink poodle from the mantel and stroked a finger down its smooth back. “You have so many pretty things.”

  Daisy beamed like a proud mother. “I do adore shopping in Hythe for things to make our room pretty. Next time we have a day off, we should go together. We could find something to cheer up the cottage for you and Sean.”

  “I’d like that.” Alice managed a smile but wondered if she and Ewan would be in the area much longer. “I better get back to my brew, I don’t want it to burn.”

  When Alice returned to the kitchen, the mixture had simmered down to a thick syrup. She found a metal flask and spooned the concoction in, being careful not to splash any on her skin.