by Jane Hinchey
"Melissa. Can you hear me?"
"Didn't see this coming." Melissa grimaced, opening her eyes. She sucked in a breath, shuddering.
"Me either. The work of the hunter?"
"Oh yes. He's smart. He always seems to be three steps ahead."
"Will he still come after us? He must think we're dead."
"He'll come. He can sense us. He'll know the crash didn't kill us."
"We'd better get out of here then. I don’t intend to be sitting here waiting for him."
Melissa released her seat belt, groaning at the movement. "The others?"
Georgia shook her head. "Let's get you out of this plane, then I can try and heal you." Scrambling back to the door, Georgia jumped down.
"Throw down the bags first, then come to the door. I'll help you down."
Doing as instructed, Melissa tossed down one backpack, then the other, before shuffling to the door, her hand pressed to her side, blood seeping through her fingers.
"Drop. I'll catch you," Georgia ordered. Melissa did so without question and Georgia realized she was going into shock. She had to heal her, now. Lowering her to the ground Georgia laid the other woman down, peeling away the edge of her shirt to reveal the jagged torn flesh beneath. Must've been shrapnel from the explosion.
Dragging the backpack that held their spell supplies over to her, she rummaged inside, searching for the herbs she needed. Finding them in a zip lock bag, she dropped a pinch of herbs into her palm and, placing her palms together, she closed her eyes and began the incantation. She hadn't done this before and prayed she was doing it right.
"Cum moc ve sanabit iniuriae toto emendandum opravit kosti, caro, nervi fetae svaly."
The herbs burned and tingled in her palm, and when she opened her eyes they were gone, her palm glowing. She placed her hand over Melissa's wound and visualized herself healing her, of the flesh knitting together. After a minute she removed her hand and examined the wound. Not completely healed, but better, much better.
Sitting back on her heels, she blew out a breath. The events of this day had her head spinning. At dawn she'd walked in the sun, then decided to re-open her shop, had been found by the hunter, Zak had been incapacitated in some way, and now this, a plane crash, miles from anywhere. Did anyone know they were even here? She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. No signal. That figured given they'd come down in some remote area between Redmeadows and Azure Falls.
Melissa's eyes opened and she struggled into a sitting position, hand going to the still-bloody wound in her side.
"It's better. I feel better." Melissa's voice was wispy and weak.
"Sorry I couldn't heal you completely."
"You did well. First time too. I'm proud of you." Melissa blew out a breath and pushed her tangle of curly hair from her eyes. "What now? Hayden? Alison?"
Georgia shook her head. "They didn't make it. I'm pretty sure they died before we hit the ground."
"I’m sorry…was it wolfsbane? I thought I could smell it as I drifted in and out."
"Yeah, it was. How did he know?"
"That we were on the plane? He just does. Obviously, he has some magic of his own."
"Men and their double standards," Georgia groused. She held out a hand and hauled Melissa to her feet.
"Do we bury them?"
"Wolves have their own ceremonies. I don't want to interfere with that. I think they'll be safe enough in the plane from animals. We'll send word to Rhys as soon as we can." Georgia knew it was the right thing to do, but it still felt wrong. How could they just leave them?
Lifting Alison in her arms, she placed her back into the plane, clasping her hand with Hayden's. Tears fell and anguish tightened her chest.
"Does the radio work? Should we radio for help?" Melissa called. Leaning forward, Georgia grabbed the radio. Nothing. It was dead.
"What do you think we should do?"
"Get away from the wreck. Hike our way out of here and keep heading toward Azure Falls. If we stay here we're sitting ducks. He planted the bomb on the plane, he probably planted a tracking device too." Georgia bent and grabbed the pack with their supplies and slung it over her shoulders. Melissa followed suit, sliding on her own pack full of clothes.
"Do you know where we are?" she asked.
"No clue," Georgia admitted.
"Well, this is going to be interesting." They both smiled grimly as they headed off into the woods.
9
They stumbled upon the cabin as the sun was setting. Just in time. Melissa was losing strength and kept stumbling. Her wound had reopened and was slowly oozing blood. Georgia held her up and dragged her through the cabin door.
The place was rough, unused for many years. But it had windows and a door that closed. It was a one-room shack, a fireplace on one wall, small kitchen on the other, a bed in the corner, an old sofa in front of the fire. Everything was thick with dust and cobwebs. She eased Melissa down onto the bed and the woman flopped back, closing her eyes while her chest heaved.
Moving over to the kitchen, Georgia rummaged through the cupboards. Some tinned food. Out of date by years but it was all they had. Candles. Half a box of matches. Better than nothing. Setting a candle on the wobbly kitchen table, she lit it, placing another on the mantel over the fire. Rummaging in the cupboards, she found a saucepan, then held her breath as she twisted the kitchen tap. After a lot of groaning, coughing and sputtering, water eventually trickled out, rusty in color to begin with but soon flowing clear. She filled the saucepan and set it on the kitchen table. No stove, just the fireplace, which was empty. She'd need to gather wood.
"You okay for a few minutes? I'm just getting some firewood."
Melissa waved a hand in the air without looking up. "You go. I'll wait here."
Outside Georgia foraged for suitable-sized branches to burn in the fire. Her own energy reserves were flagging and she needed to clean Melissa's wound and have another go at healing her before infection set in and made it even more difficult. The trouble was she hadn't fed in hours and the scent of the other woman's blood was making her gums ache. While there was food in the cabin that might be okay for Melissa, for Georgia there were no convenient blood bags. It was feed off her aunt or starve. And her aunt had already lost too much blood; she had none to spare.
Darkness fell and she began to hear sounds of nightlife, critters moving about among the trees. Looked like she'd have to go hunting. She shuddered at the thought, but when it came to survival, animal blood was better than nothing. Carrying an armful of logs back inside, she laid the fire, setting a grate over the top and balancing the saucepan of water over it.
"Melissa?" Her aunt hadn't stirred when she'd returned.
"Hmmmm."
"How are you doing?" She placed a hand against her aunt’s forehead. No fever. Good.
"Exhausted."
"I'm going to clean that wound of yours in a little while and do some more healing. But while I'm waiting for the water to boil I'm just popping out. Okay?"
"Sure." Melissa didn't move, a testimony to her exhaustion.
Outside, Georgia stood and took a deep breath. She didn't know what animals were indigenous to this area. She hoped she could find a decent-sized one so she could feed without killing it. She'd drain a rabbit in two gulps and just the thought of it made her want to heave. She pulled out her phone and checked the signal again. Still nothing. And her battery was on twenty percent. Turning it off to preserve what little was left, she tucked it back in her pocket and determinedly walked into the woods.
It wasn't too bad. She'd caught a wild pig, and although it had squealed and wriggled like crazy, she'd managed to feed without killing it. The blood had been bitter, which had helped stop her from taking too much. She'd let the animal go with an apology, wiping its blood from her face as she watched it run into the woods, squealing indignantly.
Back in the cabin, the water had started to boil. Wrapping her shirt around the handle, she lifted the saucepan from the
fire and placed it on the sink. She rummaged through Melissa's backpack, pulling out a pale pink tank top. It'd have to do. Dropping the tank top into the hot water, she let it soak while she dug through their witchcraft supplies, laying out the bags of herbs on the table, the gemstones, runes, salt and the grimoire.
Now that she'd fed she felt stronger—she hoped her magic would be stronger too. Pulling the tank top from the hot water, she squeezed the water out as best she could without giving herself third-degree burns and draped the tank over the back of a kitchen chair to cool for a minute before moving over to Melissa, lifting her shirt and placing the wet cloth against her wound.
Melissa stirred but didn't wake, just muttered in her sleep. With sure strokes Georgia cleaned away the blood, trying not to let the scent of it distract her. Satisfied the wound was as clean as she could get it, she dropped the cloth back into the saucepan, the water immediately turning red. Blood soup maybe? She grimaced, grabbed a pinch of the herbs as before and clasped them between her palms, chanting as they heated and burned her flesh before leaving her palm glowing. Again she placed her hand directly over Melissa's injury and closed her eyes, this time continuing the chant, forcing more and more of her magic into her aunt.
Pulling her hand away, she examined the wound again. Better, but not fully healed. She cursed, dropping her head for a minute and wishing to God she had more power. But what little she had was better than nothing, she supposed.
Standing, a wave of dizziness assailed her. Whoa. Today's magic had really taken it out of her, not to mention being awake for the last twenty-four hours, surviving a plane crash, and only pig’s blood to sustain her. She was exhausted and needed rest. Crossing to the sofa, she lay down, the fire bathing her in its glow. The warmth was nice, for the night outside was chilly, and with the only blankets in the cabin currently covering her aunt, she didn't relish shivering her way through the night.
Turning on her side, she tucked her hands beneath her cheek and gazed into the flames, watching them leap and lick at the wood. Her thoughts turned to Zak, to the worry that had been niggling her all day. He'd been incapacitated by the hunter. What did that mean? Was he hurt? How badly? The thought of him lying injured brought tears to her eyes. She tried to assure herself that he'd be okay, that Frank and the warriors would find him and heal him. They had to. And what of Skye?
Georgia had vowed she'd never be separated from her sister again, yet here she was, miles away, no idea if her sister was safe, although she felt reasonably confident Skye would be okay since it was Melissa the hunter was stalking. Unless he decided to deal with the lesser threat of Skye in the meantime.
Urgh, she didn't understand any of this. Ancient witches, vampires, angels. Creating bloodlines that were now wreaking havoc in her once ordinary life. Her exhaustion slowly got the better of her and her eyes drooped, closing as sleep claimed her.
She stood in the shadowy woods, arms laden with logs for the fire. The wind ruffled through the trees, making them creak and moan. A gust rippled over her skin and she shivered. Darkness slithered all around her and anxiety made her shoulders tight. Something was coming for her. The wind growled and echoed around her and dread weighed heavily as she turned, searching for the threat.
He was coming for her. She had to run.
A deep, menacing laugh echoed around her. She whipped around again, breath caught in her throat. There! In the shadows, mist surrounding him, the silhouette of a man.
"Who's there?" He moved silently toward her, his feet making no sound. She frowned as he drew closer, heart hammering painfully in her chest, fear holding her in place. She peered into the mist, trying to make out his features. As he neared she felt it, an energy, familiar but different, emanating from him.
"Zak?" She dropped the wood and moved toward him. The closer she got, the more his features were revealed: his dark hair, brooding eyes, strong jaw. Every time she laid eyes on him her heart skipped a beat. She still couldn't believe this handsome warrior was hers. Her heart rate picked up, her skin prickled, and a warmth coursed through her. She ran the last few feet and flung herself into his arms. He staggered but regained his balance fast, his hands burning where they rested on her hips, steadying them both. She pressed flush against him, resting her cheek against his chest, his familiar warmth seeping through her, comforting. He'd found her. They were safe.
Something was wrong. His hands remained at her hips, unmoving, while she had her arms wrapped around his waist in a tight embrace. Loosening her grip she eased back, peering up into his face. He'd been gazing over her head but now glanced down at her. His beautiful brown eyes lacked the heat she was accustomed to. Instead, they were cold, hard. Indifferent.
"Zak?" Confused, she let go, stepping back. "What's wrong?"
Those dark eyes that could melt her with a look, flashed. With anger? She couldn't tell. Something within her recoiled and she backed up another step.
"Do I know you?" He cocked his head to the side, eyeing her up and down, his once cold gaze now hot as he leisurely examined her body. Heat flared between them, his pull so magnetic it was all she could do not to fling herself back into his arms. His words held her in place.
"What? Are you messing with me?" How could he joke at a time like this?
"Your greeting leads me to believe we know each other." His lip curled in a slow, lazy grin.
"You’re telling me you don't know who I am?" Disbelief clouded her voice. How could he not know her?
"You're upset," he deduced with a wry shake of his head. "That's unfortunate. And not my intention." He moved closer. Cautiously, as if he didn't want to startle her, he raised a hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. She frowned at him. That wasn't something he did often. His signature move was to rub his thumb along her lower lip. She could feel her lip tingle now in anticipation. What the hell was going on?
"What is your intention?" she demanded, a flare of anger shooting through her. Why was he jerking her around like this?
"This." Before she could protest, his mouth covered hers. Her anger faded in an instant, replaced by instant lust. Her body heated, melted. Fire burned through her veins. She felt a pulling from deep within, almost as if he were trying to suck out her soul. Again something felt off. She tried to pull away, to break the kiss, but he held firm, both hands coming up to clasp her head in place.
Her desire left in an icy blast. She tried again to pull away, but he held firm and kept pulling the energy from her. Was he stealing her life force? He was doing something—she felt dizzy, weak. She mumbled pleading words into his mouth, but he ignored her. With the last bit of strength she had left she clutched his jacket and rammed her knee into his groin. That did it. He dropped his hold on her and staggered back, holding his hands to himself and cursing.
Not waiting to see what he would do, she turned and ran.
She woke with a gasp, shooting upright on the sofa, her hand pressed against her racing heart as if to try to stop it from exploding from her chest. What was that? Had Zak dream-walked? Or was she having a nightmare? Rattled, she swung her feet to the floor. The fire had died down, so she tossed another log onto it, holding out her hands to the warmth. She glanced over to the bed where Melissa slept. She hadn't moved an inch since they'd arrived at the cabin yesterday.
The wind howled as it battered the front of the cabin in a sudden gust. The window rattled then stopped. She shivered. Something was off. Something she couldn't put her finger on. She hoped her aunt would be awake and lucid in the morning. She needed answers, and patience wasn't her strong suit.
Settling back onto the sofa, Georgia couldn’t fight the worry that plagued her, making sleep impossible.
10
The next day Melissa was well enough to fully heal herself, but with the blood loss, they decided they'd wait it out at the cabin for another day so she could rebuild her strength before heading off. Melissa believed there was a spell that would help point them in the right direction to get out of the forest, so she spent t
he day in front of the fire, flipping through the grimoire.
Georgia couldn't sit still. She walked the perimeter of the cabin over and over, stopping and pushing out her senses. She couldn't shake the feeling from her dream. The feeling that something was coming for them. For her. She knew the hunter was hunting them, it was a given, but even on the plane, when he'd clearly been there and planted the bomb, she'd had no sense of him, had been oblivious to any energy signature he may have left behind. That's what threw her now. Was all of this his doing? This sense of impending doom, the nightmare about Zak—she'd decided it had to be a nightmare. Nothing else fit.
"I'm going to get more wood," Georgia told her aunt, heading for the door once again that evening.
"We have plenty, Georgia," Melissa commented wryly, indicating the stockpile of logs stacked next to the fire.
"I just can't...something feels off."
Melissa looked up from the grimoire she'd had her nose buried in all day. "Everything will be okay. We just need to get to Azure Falls, to my coven."
"I can't help thinking we should have stayed with the plane. Perhaps they would have found us by now."
"The hunter would have, that's for sure. It wasn't safe. We have to go by foot. We'll be fine. I've cast a protection spell. It'll hold us for a while."
"A protection spell? Not a concealment spell?"
"A concealment spell out in the wild? It'll show up like a void and lead the hunter right to us."
Georgia sighed, laying her forehead against the wooden door. "You're right of course. I wish Zak were here."
"You're worried about him." It was a statement, not a question.
"Frank said the hunter had incapacitated him. I can't bear the thought of him being hurt. Not knowing what's happening is killing me." Her words came out ragged, her heart yearning for Zak, to be held safe in his arms. Especially after the unsettling nightmare.
