Patrick pulled away from her and looked up at me like this was the first time he would even deign to consider my presence.
And, judging by the scornful look on his face, he wasn’t too impressed.
“Murderer,” he said standing. He was at least a foot taller than me and swimming in bulging muscles. “I have to admit, I expected more.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I answered. “I promise, what I lack in physical awe I make up for in the fact that you’ll fucking die if you lay a finger on me.”
He wasn’t amused. His jaw set as he eyed me up and down, like he wanted to test the theory.
I had met more than a few men like him during my time on this spinning rock. Every one of them thought the Big Guy’s rules wouldn’t apply to them. And every one of them — without fail — paid for that thought process with blood and pain.
Something told me that I was going to enjoy watching it happen to this one.
“Stop it,” Merry said, standing up and getting between us. “We’re on the same side, for Christ’s sake.” She looked from me to Patrick and then back again. “At least, I think we are.”
“That depends,” he answered. “I’m on your side.”
His hand brushed hers, but I saw something. Her eyes weren’t lighting up the same way. Whatever he was feeling, she wasn’t.
I didn’t figure she’d say that, of course. If a guy likes you, it’s hard to throw ‘let’s be friends’ and ‘by the way, can I have your kidney’ in the same sentence.
“Then we can make this work,” I answered, noticing that Andy had gotten up too and was standing right behind me. “Assuming you realize that you’ve just committed treason.”
“I’ll be the king soon,” he scoffed. “A king cannot commit treason. There’s only his whim.”
“Does his whim include leaving a dozen or so of his subjects as magically sedated sitting ducks for a pack of werewolves to snack on?”
“What do you know of the lycans?” he asked, his body tensing up at the word.
“Enough to know that they shouldn’t be acting like this,” I answered. “Wolves don’t barter with witches. Never have. Which means that, whatever’s going on here is either unprecedented or not entirely natural.” I looked down at the unconscious soldiers below. “And, I know that we can’t leave your people here like this. I’ve got enough blood on my hands. I won’t be responsible for dead gypsies too.”
Patrick bristled at my use of the g-word, but he was just going to have to deal.
I was tired, pissed, confused, and in over my head. Separately, I hated those things. Together, they were a smorgasbord of garbage that made me wish I had died eons ago.
Which was to say, niceties were beyond me at the moment.
“My intention was never to leave them here, Murderer,” Patrick said, shaking his head. “A true king, a true Romani, would never turn his back on family like that. We aren’t you.”
Now, it was my turn to bristle.
“Come out!” Patrick shouted.
From the woods, three men — dressed in similar looking armor — came toddling out.
“Meet my band,” Patrick said, motioning to them.
“His band?” Andy murmured. “My God, he thinks he’s Robin Hood.”
“They’re loyal to me in all things. Two of them will pack these men into the cage we’re now standing in while Conrad — my right hand — will help me deliver the three of you safely back to your own world.” His eyes traveled to Merry. “Unless, of course, one of you would like to stay.”
She blinked hard but didn’t shuffle or anything. This was, after all, the woman who had tricked me into letting my guard down. She was a professional.
“We need to talk about something,” she said, looking up at him.
“Not now,” I said.
“Yes, now!” she answered, turning on me. “If not now, when?”
“After,” I answered firmly.
“After what?” she balked. “After we’re back home? It won’t matter then.”
“We’re not going home,” I answered.
“Oh Lord,” Andy said, presumably because he knew me well enough to know what was coming next.
“These witches want me,” I said. They wanted Merry too, for whatever reason. But that seemed secondary enough not to mention at the moment. “They sent a pack of werewolves here to demolish an entire community just for the sake of getting me. And if they don’t, if they find out that I was brought to safety by anyone, let alone the future leader of this community, I shudder to think what they’ll do to it.”
“So you want to sacrifice yourself?” Patrick asked, something between amazement and contempt in his voice.
“Not likely,” Andy said.
And he was right.
“I’m not sacrificing myself,” I said, looking deep into the woods. “I’m going hunting.”
22
Two of Patrick’s loyalists stacked the unconscious Romani into the cage where Merry, Andy, and I had been sitting just moments before.
Patrick gave them instructions, telling them to take the soldiers to some house by a river I barely remembered, and keep them there until they woke up.
They were then to tell them that some surprise spell had rendered them all unconscious, but their super awesome prince was able to fight it off and was finishing the job up on his own.
Which sounded as self-serving as it was unrealistic to me. But hell, I wasn’t a gypsy. I didn’t give a damn what their politics were moving forward, so long as I wasn’t responsible for any more of them getting murdered.
Once they were safely on their path, Conrad — Patrick’s right hand man and the only one of the loyalists who was still with us asked, “What now, my prince?”
“Now you shut up and listen,” I answered, as though he was talking to me.
Conrad was every bit as big and every ounce as intimidating as Patrick. With broad shoulders and a forehead that must have entered a room a full thirty-seconds before the rest of him did, he was the definition of the enforcer type.
But even with all those muscles and two entire brain cells swimming around in his head, he was out of his depth here. They all were.
“You will not speak to us in that manner, murderer,” Patrick said, leveling a look at me.
“You ever fought off a werewolf before, Princess Bride?” I asked him, folding my arms over my chest. “How about an entire pack of them?”
He stood stalwart, unmoving and unblinking.
“I didn’t think so. They’re vicious, ruthless attack dogs and they won’t stop until every strip of meat is torn off your bones. And that’s on a light day. If they’ve teamed up with these witches, then we can’t trust anything. We can’t trust our eyes, any of our senses, or even the ground under us.” I nodded. “Now, that’s old hat for me. I was doing that when your forefathers were inventing stickball, or whatever it is you people do around here to pass the time. But I’m thinking for the rest of you, this is sort of a unique situation.”
I glared at Patrick. “So, while I appreciate the power of the crown and all that, I’m going to need you to take a backseat on this one and let me do what I do.” My eyes flickered over to Merry and then back at Patrick. “But first, you and she need to have a conversation. And I think it’s best if you do it on your own.”
“You said it wasn’t the right time” Merry said, her eyes narrowing.
“It wasn’t then,” I answered. “There were too many people around.” I motioned to Conrad. “But Andy and I can keep this one at bay, should he try to eavesdrop.”
“He won’t have to eavesdrop,” Patrick answered. “Conrad is my most trusted friend. Whatever you have to say to me is more than fit for his ears as well.”
“No dice,” I answered. “This is a big secret, maybe the biggest for you kind of people.”
“There is no secret big enough to strain my loyalty to the prince,” Conrad answered.
“And while I’m sure that probably loo
ks really sweet when you write it on the inside of a Hallmark card, I’m afraid the real world doesn’t work like that.” I set my jaw. “There are things, Mr. Conrad, which would not only strain your loyalty with the prince, it would downright shatter it. And the fact that you don’t know that is only proof that what I’m saying is right.”
“Callum,” Merry said, using my ‘not real’ name.
“This culture. This is not the kind of thing that’s forgiven,” I warned. “It’s not a secret you want anybody else knowing. Trust me on this.” My eyes slid over to Conrad. “Not anybody.”
Merry shook her head, and for the first time maybe, I could see fatigue in her eyes. She was so damn tired.
“But, it’s not your secret,” she said. Turning to Patrick, she put a hand on his arm and swallowed hard. “We have a daughter.”
There was a beat of silence as his eyes got small and then wide again.
“A...a what?” he asked, his words obviously failing him.
“A daughter,” she repeated. “A child.” She looked down at the ground. “From the night we were together. She’s eight now. Her name is Amber.”
“A daughter,” Patrick said, as though he was in a daze.
I eyed the sidepiece on Andy’s hip. If this went sideways, if Patrick went all ‘Proto Romani’ on us and freaked about mixing his seed with an outsider, I was going to have to take action.
Something strange happened just then though.
The bastard started laughing.
“A daughter?!” he yelled, smiling all wide and excitedly. “A daughter! An heir! Did you hear that, Conrad?” he asked, turning to the Big Guy. “I have a child. I have a family.”
“Y…yes, my prince,” he answered, though his tone was decidedly less excited.
“She’s sick,” Merry added quickly which put an end to Patrick’s happy dance.
“What?” he asked, leaning into Merry.
“She’s sick. She needs a kidney transplant,” Merry said, tears pooling in her eyes. “I can’t give her mine. I would if I could, and the lists for that kind of thing are so long on my world. She’d never get one that way.”
She took a deep breath.
“The only chance she has-”
“You want my kidney?” he interrupted, blinking hard and narrowing his lips.
“Well,” Merry answered. “I was hoping that maybe we could talk ab-”
“No,” Patrick answered, and my stomach soured.
“O…oh,” Merry said, shaking her head.
“No,” he repeated. “We will not speak of such things. There is no need for talk. There is no time for talk. My daughter needs my kidney and my kidney she shall have,” he answered.
Merry face froze, free of all expression.
“You would?” she asked. “You’d give her your kidney?”
“A kidney, a leg, a hand, a heart.” He looked around. “My kingdom. She can have it all. She is my child. I will refuse her nothing. Take me to her, so that I may give her what she needs,” he answered. “I beg of you.”
I was more than a little shocked. Floored was closer to the right word.
This guy, this prince, he was willing to give everything he had — his body even — for a girl he’d never met, for someone he didn’t even know existed two minutes ago.
And he was legit.
“You should go,” I answered, nodding. “Patrick can take you to the transport spot. The two of you should go through it. Save your daughter. It’s what you came here for.”
“What about you?” Merry asked, looking up at me.
“I have a pack to stop,” I responded. “Don’t worry about me. I made it just fine for thousands of years before you came along to screw up my date night. I’ll be okay. Besides, Andy here’s got my back.”
I would have told him to go with them, to save himself, but I knew better. He wouldn’t listen to me.
“No,” Patrick said, standing up a little straighter. “I will not leave you to fight the battles of my people. Even if they are, in some form or another, your fault. I will stand with you. I will help you beat back the beasts, as is my duty as the future king, and then I will go with the mother of my child and meet my daughter as a conquering hero.”
“Patrick,” I started. “I think this is more dangerous than yo-”
“It is decided,” he said loudly. “What shall we do? After all, you’re taking lead, are you not?”
“It’s blood magic,” Andy said before I could answer.
“What?” I asked, turning to him.
“Packs are run by Alphas,” he said. “And Alphas have a mental pull over their wolves, like they can control them or something, right?”
“Right,” I answered, impressed that he remembered all this from his childhood, when his dad and I used to talk this stuff over in their living room.
“You said wolves and witches don’t mix,” he continued. “So, I was curious as to what was going on, and then it came to me. Wolves are strong. So strong that magic is almost useless on them, right?”
“All except the strongest,” I answered.
“Blood magic,” he answered. “These witches, this lunar coven, they must have found some Alpha and tied him up with blood magic. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“They’d have needed a lot of blood for that,” I answered. “And werewolves are usually extremely protective over their… fluids for just this reason.” I nodded. “You’re probably right though. Guess that whole ‘detective’ thing is starting to pay off.”
“Right,” Andy answered. “So how do we undo that?”
“With your gun,” I motioned to Andy. “Her ring.” I pointed to Merry. “His spear.” I looked at Conrad. “And, that jagged rock over there.”
“Rock?” Patrick asked as I marched over and picked it up. I then pulled the ring off Merry’s finger and snatched up the spear from Conrad. “You’re going to pelt the damned creature with a stone.”
“No,” I answered, turning the jagged side outward. “It’s not for him.”
Sliding Merry’s ring on my pinky finger (the only one it would fit on), I laid the spear down and ran the jagged side of the rock down the inside of my wrist, cutting it deeply and unleashing a torrent of blood.
“It’s for that.”
23
“You’re going to kill yourself?” Patrick asked, staring at me like I had just done the craziest thing a person could. Which, come to think of it, wasn’t untrue.
Still, slitting my wrist was only part of the plan.
“I’m not going to kill myself,” I answered, narrowing my eyebrows at the idiot. “Couldn’t if I wanted to.”
Which I had, more than once.
This action however, was a completely different intended outcome.
“I need to draw them out,” I answered. “No matter how far away they are, no matter what they’re doing. I need to bring all the wolves to me. And the only way to do that is to put a shit ton of blood in the water.”
“What water?” Patrick balked.
“It’s-it’s a figure of speech,” I answered, before looking over at Merry with puzzlement on my face. “Really? This guy?”
“And what if you pass out first?” Andy asked, throwing his hands in the air. “You’ll live out the rest of eternity inside a half a dozen wolves’ digestive systems. You might be immortal but you’re not invincible. And you’re a stupid asshole sometimes too.”
“I’m not going to pass out,” I answered, watching as blood pooled on the ground under me.
“And how do you know that?” Andy asked, obviously not convinced.
“Because this is too important,” I said. “Now come on. We’re doing this at the transport spot.”
I darted off in the position I knew the transport point would be, leaving a very intentional trail of blood behind me.
Like back at the mall, this place had changed a little in the time since I was last here. While I knew about where the point would be, it would take either
Patrick or Conrad to point me to its specific placement.
Still, general location was more than enough for now.
I didn’t even have to ask as we moved into thicker woods. Patrick moved in front of me, leading the way. Conrad followed suit, and then I found Merry and Patrick keeping pace with me.
Oh no, I was getting slower. This blood loss was catching up with me quicker than I would have liked.
I needed to push through it though. I needed to stay awake, stay alert.
Patrick and Conrad moved up a large hill with an ease that I wouldn’t be capable of, even if most of my blood wasn’t somewhere outside of my body.
They pulled to a stop and I strained myself to follow.
Andy tried to give me a hand, attempting to brace me as we went up the hill. But I pushed him off. If I could make it through Normandy with all my parts intact, I could climb a damn hill without some overweight cop’s helping hand.
Making it up, I took a deep breath, surprised at how cold I was. I had pushed myself past the point of breaking this time. The world was starting to spin around me. But I tightened my fists. My arm hurt. My everything hurt.
Looking down, I saw that the pool of blood was much smaller than it had been just moments ago. I must have been all bled out.
“Are you okay?” Merry asked, looking me up and down. “You don’t look so good.”
“Really?” I asked, a slow smile spreading across my face. “I usually get the opposite reaction from women.”
“You getting a little bit loopy?” she asked, pulling something from her pocket.
It was a needle and thread, the kind old ladies used to carry around back in the day. She threaded it and looked up at me.
She grabbed my arm and pulled it toward her.
“What are you doing?” I asked, blinking hard.
“Trying to fix your mistake,” she answered. “God knows you should be dead by now. A normal person would have never survived this much blood loss, let along make it up a hill. I figure you’ll probably start making more blood soon, but I have to close you up before that happens. And, since the threat of infection isn’t an issue, there’s no time like the present.”
Mark of Cain (Immortal Mercenary Book 1) Page 15
