She’d fallen apart in the woods behind RJ’s house and then as we’d travelled here, she’d fallen apart more with every step. Since the moment we’d walked in, she’d changed again. She was worse. In a different, scarier way. Like she’d closed in on herself and whatever was happening inside her own mind.
She was rigid as she sat next to where I lay on the pile of blankets. She’d said nothing since Jin had sat us down and gone to work on mixing his mysterious medicine. Now, she looked ready to burst with some emotion I couldn’t name. Whatever lay beyond heartbreak—that was what Sam’s eyes held. The look she wore left me more disturbed and hurt than ten gunshot wounds.
If my heart wasn’t already aching from the bullet lodged so close to it, it damn sure would have contracted now just looking at her. Just thinking about everything she was keeping inside—probably for my benefit—made me want to do whatever was necessary to coax Hina out of Sam. If the woman was her own person—a physical entity—I might get away with strangling her now. As it was, locked inside Sam, Hina was safe from my wrath. But what she was doing, taking over my girlfriend slowly from the inside out …
Hina the moon goddess could go to Hell.
And if she could take Ea and RJ along with her, even better.
“From the looks of things, the bullet is lodged beside a nerve. The removal won’t be…” When his gaze flicked to mine, I drew in a breath, dreading it already. Jin set the bowl nearby and knelt over me but his eyes were on Sam as he added, “I have a room in the back where you can wait.”
Sam said nothing.
She didn’t even look at him as she began to rock back and forth where she sat. My breath caught as nerves and worry collided with the burning agony that had spread from my shoulder to the rest of my torso and down my left leg. I knew exactly what RJ had done to me, but what the fuck had Indra done to her?
“Sam,” I called, enough of an edge in my voice that she finally blinked. She looked down at me, her expression vacant. As if she didn’t recognize me—or if she did, she damn sure wasn’t aware of the gravity of this moment. Where we were, why we’d come.
“I need you to go with Safar now,” I said, grabbing her wrist and using the physical contact for emphasis. “Get some rest.”
“Safar?” Sam frowned.
“This is Safar,” I said, gesturing to the girl in the hijab that had saved our ass back at RJ’s—although I’d already introduced her when we’d walked in. The bow and arrow she’d used on Indra earlier was propped against the wall behind her. I still couldn’t believe she’d shown up like that, but I planned to thank her later. Just as soon as Sam was herself again, and I wasn’t dead from this damned bullet.
Sam turned to look, her blank eyes never blinking.
“Come,” Safar said, reaching down and taking Sam’s hands without waiting to be asked.
Sam let Safar pull her to her feet, locking her knees just before she could collapse again. Safar never let go of her though, leading her like a blind child around the table and chairs that all but blocked the door in the very back of the dimly lit main room. I craned my neck, twisting with a grimace until they were out of sight.
The door clicked shut after them, and I relaxed, righting myself again with a whoosh of relief when the sting in my arm lessened.
“Was that door there before?” I asked Jin.
He grunted and then said simply, “We see what we want to see.”
I took that as a no but let it drop.
Jin worked on gathering his supplies in silence. I concentrated on deep breaths and trying not to worry about things like my truck and how in the hell we were going to figure out how to stop RJ when we had no idea where he’d gone.
“She is the vessel,” Jin said and the words jolted me out of my own thoughts. I looked up and found Jin’s head cocked as he stared intently down at me.
I hesitated for a painful second, my chest pierced with pain on every inhale. “Yes.”
“She is losing herself then.”
“Yes,” I said again, not even bothering to ask how he knew about Hina’s presence inside Sam. He would have read it all on my skin that night I’d come here alone. And seeing her now, well, it was obvious. I had nothing to hide from him where Sam was concerned and it was a good thing. Jin knew all my secrets now.
But Jin didn’t comment again. Instead, he went back to work on arranging tools. A moment later, the door in the back re-opened and a single set of nearly-silent footsteps returned. Safar dropped down beside me where Sam had been, though not nearly as close. Her face was the only thing uncovered and her dark eyes were full of caring and concern as she stared down at me.
“She’s resting,” Safar said.
I didn’t answer beyond a short nod. I owed her a hell of a lot more than a simple thank you but my stomach was in knots and my breathing was shallow thanks to the blood loss. I could thank them after they saved my life.
“Are you ready?” Jin asked me.
I nodded, trying my best to look unconcerned with what was about to happen. “Let’s do it.”
He looked to Safar.
“What do you need me to do?” she asked.
“Hold his hands,” Jin said. “And do not let go even if he struggles.”
If.
My pride appreciated that but we all knew it would be when. Not if.
Safar only nodded, a hard set to her tanned chin. She crawled closer, repositioning herself between my sprawled legs and reached for my hands, holding them firmly in place against the worn quilt despite them being slick and sticky with my own blood. Her hands were warm—or maybe that was the chill I couldn’t quite shake—and stronger than I expected for her small frame.
Jin slid around to my left, and when his hand came back into view, he held a narrow instrument in his hand. It was sharpened into two points, like tweezers, but it didn’t look professionally carved. If anything, it looked like two filed ends of a toothbrush bent in half. I tensed even more, but the ache in my shoulder only sharpened and another wave of nausea rolled through me. It was either this or die—and honestly, looking at the makeshift shank he was about to use on me, I wasn’t even sure which I preferred.
Jin bent low, pausing to arrange a few more instruments that I decided I was better off not inspecting. I’d already shucked my shirt the moment I’d laid down, and now, nerves sent goose bumps over my skin. Jin’s sharp gaze flicked over the wound and he frowned as he studied it. Finally, he chose one of his tools and leaned in.
I braced myself for what I knew would come next.
The metal points sunk into my flesh and my shoulder exploded. Fiery agony ripped through me and I tried first to grit my teeth, bracing my entire body against the onslaught as Jin dug for the bullet lodged there. But when the points moved sideways, I lost it.
My own cry ripped from my throat without my permission.
Safar’s hands held mine surprisingly tight, and though I tried to resist the urge to fight her, I strained against her hold as I writhed against the gut-wrenching pain.
The tweezers disappeared and it was a delicious relief to have them out of the burning tissue of my flesh.
“Did you get it?” I asked, my voice hoarse and barely recognizable to my own ears.
“Not yet.” Jin’s voice was muted by the roaring in my eardrums. I fell limp at the thought of enduring that a second time. “Hold his hands tight and coax it up and out,” Jin was saying. Speaking to Safar, I knew, but it didn’t make sense. That she could coax a bullet out of me when he was the one with the rusty tweezers…
I didn’t have a chance to ask him about it before Jin tried again. This time, I howled immediately.
“The power coming from inside her is unstable. I’ve never felt anything like it.” The words stirred me and I struggled to make sense of them as I came to. “She’s going to miss the window to merge,” Safar was saying. “Why hasn’t she done so already?” Her voice was distorted, as if spilling through a screen. Or maybe that was my own consciousnes
s dripping back to me.
“I don’t know,” Jin answered in a grave voice. “But it’s already too far gone. She’ll need help for it to work now.”
“Can you—?” Safar began.
Jin cut her off. “I am not enough. Not this time. Not for her kind of power. Neither are you. They need more than just the two of us which will take time. And Alex needs to heal.”
Safar huffed, clearly unhappy with that answer, but she didn’t reply.
I willed my brain to work out what they were saying.
What was happening? Who were they talking about? I licked my lips then cringed as the pain filled in the holes in my memory. I cracked my eyes open and the sight of the warehouse’s scarred ceiling overhead brought it all rushing back to me.
Those goddamned tweezers.
The bullet.
I was still on my back, afraid to move, knowing it would only make the pain worse. The last thing I remembered was Jin rooting around in my torn flesh. And the pain…
I must have passed out, but for how long?
“Did you get the bullet out?” I asked, rasping as I struggled to be heard.
There was shuffling and Jin came in to view. Safar was behind him, her face blocked by his massive form. “Yes. I’ve stitched the wound, but you lost a lot of blood. You’ll want to take it easy for a few days. How do you feel?”
“Like shit.” I sniffed as I finally came awake enough that all my senses kicked in. “Which is exactly how I smell apparently.”
“The medicine has a strong odor,” Jin said and Safar’s lips curved on one side. It was the closest to a smile I’d seen yet.
“How’s Sam?” I asked, trying to sit up and immediately regretting it. I fell back to the blankets on a whoosh of air.
“You should remain still. Rest,” Jin said.
But I grimaced and tried again.
“Sam is sleeping,” Safar added, frowning as she watched me struggle. “I’ll keep an eye on her while you sleep.”
I sighed but nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”
She disappeared toward the back room. This time, I didn’t try to turn to watch her go. Instead, I focused on Jin and the mug he was kneeling to offer me. Even over the stench of the medicine he’d caked onto the wound on my shoulder, I could smell the too-sweet brew.
“It will help you sleep,” Jin said before I could ask.
I hesitated, not sure drugging myself was the best idea with everyone out there looking for me. But then I looked up at Jin and saw him through the eyes of a stranger: massive, intense, and terrifying when he wanted to be. And I remembered that not even I knew for sure how many years he’d been holed up in this warehouse, safe and detached from the rest of the world. No one bothered him and if they did, they didn’t get far. I was safer here than anywhere else. And my exhaustion was quickly becoming impossible to resist.
“Screw it,” I said and lifted my head, reaching for the mug. I tipped it up and downed the contents in one swig. The sweet flavor tingled on my tongue and all the way down to my belly.
Jin lifted the mug from my hands and leaned back, sitting beside me and watching me as I lowered myself back down again.
I waited a beat and then took a deep breath to brace myself. “Is Sam going to be okay?”
Jin hesitated and then said, “She’s begun expressing herself as the goddess.”
“What are you talking about? Like taken over? Completely?”
“Not completely. She comes and goes.” Jin studied me for a moment and then stared down at his hands. “Sam has great power inside her, but she hasn’t harnessed it. The goddess is taking her over. Eventually, Sam will disappear. Unless the ceremony is performed.”
“Ceremony … Is that the merge you were talking about?”
He nodded. “Most witches complete a merge around puberty when their powers begin to manifest more strongly. Sam’s situation is different, but then so is the power. It’s coming in stronger, faster.”
“And the merge will help?”
“It will seat the power inside her. Root her to herself so she isn’t lost when Hina …”
He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. I knew what he wouldn’t say.
“What can we do?” I asked, my voice strained from pain, exhaustion, and now worry. I shifted my position in order to stay alert, to hear everything he was saying.
“We must help Sam root to herself. I can explain the ceremony that it requires, but … it’s not enough. She needs a power greater than her own in order to complete the transformation.”
“How many would we need?” I asked.
Jin didn’t answer and I didn’t press it. I knew whatever the number was, we didn’t have it.
Jin took a long drink from his own mug and met my eyes. “Who will come looking?” he asked quietly.
I braced myself. This was the part I’d dreaded. The reason I almost hadn’t come—bringing violence to this gentle man’s doorstep. “His name is RJ. He is Ea’s vessel. But … he doesn’t know about you. I don’t think he will come here.”
“And the Hunters?”
“I don’t know what they’ll do about me.”
“I cannot hurt anyone,” Jin said and the words were a warning. But I already knew that. Already knew what I’d risked choosing him.
But the bullet was out and I wasn’t dead. That had to be worth the risk. “I’m not asking you to. I just … Do what you can for Sam. Please.”
“Safar is with her now. She will bring her back,” he said and there was something in his words. Something about Safar.
I tried to understand, but the drink was working and I struggled to maintain my focus.
“Thank you,” I said, the words breathy as exhaustion took over. It didn’t creep up like it would have with most other drugs. No, this particular brew was like a freight train: it hit me hard and fast. Sleep crashed over me, and I passed out even before I knew I’d shut my eyes.
Chapter Three
Sam
“The power of the moon—it grows. It grows. It grows. It grows.” A hand on my shoulder shook me out of whatever fog I’d dropped into, and I jumped, startled at the sight of a strange face hovering in front of me.
“Who are you?” I asked, unsettled to the point of itchy in my own skin.
I was on a bed, seated cross-legged. How did I get here?
I squinted, struggling to remember.
“My name is Safar. I’d like you to come back if you can.” Her voice was gentle. Friendly. Convincing, even. But the words made no sense.
I scratched absently at my arm. “Where else would I be?”
“Not where. Who.”
“Okay. Who?” I repeated, frowning. Everything felt wrong. The walls, the quilt, the girl—“Where am I?”
Before she could answer, something deep inside me tugged and then I was just lost.
“The full moon. It must be then. It can only be then. I cannot be contained. The ocean is no match for the sky—”
Hands landed firm against my cheeks.
I blinked.
“Who are you?” I asked of the face in front of my own.
“I am Safar. You’re safe with me. Can you tell me your name?”
The air smelled stale. Musty. I shivered. “I’m …” I trailed off, confused that for a split second, I’d been uncertain of the answer she wanted from me. In fact, I was confused about a lot of things. “Is Alex all right?”
“He’s fine. Resting now. And what is your name?”
The question irritated me. I opened my mouth to tell her exactly who I was and what I thought of her patronizing questions.
But then the answers all slipped away, and I was lost.
I wasn’t quite sure how I’d done it—or even when it happened since I had no sense of time in this state—but at some point I’d simply … shut down. Somewhere in the recesses of my own psyche, I was there, curled in a ball in the corner. Sandwiched between heartbreak and horror over the past few hours. But I wasn’t accessible, a
nd I couldn’t bring myself to care. It was like I’d reached my limit and then my brain had simply closed down for the duration. How long it would last, I didn’t know. And in a deep sense of self, I knew that answer was on me. I could check back in anytime. But right now, I didn’t want to. No, that wasn’t right. I couldn’t.
I just … couldn’t.
Alex’s screams had kept me awake.
Deep down, I had an urge to go to him. To help. But I just didn’t. And that made the sorrow and shame even worse. A new level of desolation I hadn’t known was possible. And so I sat in the small bedroom at the back of a warehouse full of people I didn’t know and stared at the wall, unseeing, uncaring, and detached from the very air I breathed.
Time passed.
Alex’s screams quieted and then stopped altogether.
Cold.
I was cold, I realized vaguely, but still, I continued to sit.
Someone came into the room, slipping through the crack in the door and closing it with a click. It was the girl. Safar. Brown skin and dark, almost black, eyes that matched her cropped hair. Sharp eyes that saw everything but gave nothing away, I’d noted when we’d arrived. She didn’t speak to me or approach. I assumed this was her bed. Her room. But I couldn’t know. There was nothing personal here. No photos or trinkets or even clothing that I could see.
A glass of water appeared in front of me. I took it and emptied it, silently grateful. My stomach growled in protest of liquid rather than solid food. But that would have required the use of my voice and hands and an interaction I just wasn’t capable of just yet. She took the empty glass from my hands when I was done. I waited but she only stood watching me for a few minutes before slipping out again.
Defiance (Heart Lines Series Book 5) Page 2
