Friction (The Frenzy Series Book 4) (27 page)

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Authors: Casey L. Bond

Tags: #fantasy

BOOK: Friction (The Frenzy Series Book 4)
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“It’s hard to say. It could be a few hours, or it could take a few days to find an Infected. Some roam, but they’ll be more likely to find them closer to human settlements than randomly in the forest. Everyone here’s been cured or...”

Or I burned them to death.

“Yeah,” he said, stiffening. “Will someone let me know about Mercedes? If she’s okay? Father will probably ask that I stay here until someone comes.”

“Don’t stay out here. Go about your business. I’ll send Porschia or Roman for you.”

Ford smiled. “Not Tage?”

“Definitely not Tage.” I stifled the urge to ruffle his hair and turned on my heel, crossing the bridge and lifting it back over to the forest side.

Delilah frowned. “Why don’t they leave the bridge up all the time?”

Ford turned to her. “It’s safer this way.”

“Safer for whom?” she muttered, lowering her head.

As I walked away, I heard him sit back beside her and begin to tell her everything. About the rotation, the screams of the Infected from the forest and city, about how Mercedes fell, and what happened when Porschia turned.

Her heart sped up, pounding fast against her chest, and her breathing became shallow. It was a frightening history, and if anyone knew how to shield their safe haven, it was the citizens of Blackwater. The people of Mountainside and The Glen learned that the hard way. She should know that.

 

 

Instead of running back to Mercedes, who’d fallen fast asleep before I left to hunt and didn’t want me within fifty feet of her, I climbed a tree close enough to the Colony so that I could keep an eye on Ford and Delilah, yet high enough to be hidden from their sight. Oak leaves, fat and healthy from recent rains, blew gently around me.

Delilah listened intently as Ford poured his heart out to her; telling her about his fears, the weaknesses he saw within Blackwater, about the new council, and how his Father was different, somehow smaller since everything had happened with his children and the banishment and subsequent death of his wife, their mother. He had lost most of the only friends he had because of it all, and was more of an outcast than should have been tolerated for a neighbor who’d been through hell and back.

When he became quiet, she turned to him and began whispering something that I couldn’t hear, but what I did catch bits and pieces of, didn’t make sense. It was as if she spoke a different language. Delilah moved closer to Ford, her ramblings getting more intense, and he stood up as she guided his elbows. His eyes were fastened on hers while she spoke, pulling him toward the river bank where the grass was still bent from the weight of the bridge only moments ago.

She waved her arm toward the wooden planks, anchored together with wooden beams and long, steel nails, and the wooden bridge obeyed her; rising from the ground upon which it laid and positioning itself across the angry river water that swirled and churned beneath it. She walked him into the bridge’s center and I stood up, ready to jump down and tackle the witch into the water, but she didn’t hurt him. She smiled at Ford, brushed his cheek with the back of her fingers, and then with the same hand, gathered her breath in her hand. She uncurled her fingers and blew into Ford’s face. Golden flecks of glittering light filled the air between them until he inhaled them, breathing them in until the skin of his cheeks glowed as if lit from within.

As fast as the light came, it extinguished, but the damage to Ford was done. She grabbed hold of his hand and led him across the river into the forest. Careful not to make noise, I quickly climbed down the tree and followed them down the well-trodden path through the woods; the one we’d taken night after night during the rotation. It was the most direct path away from Blackwater.

Torn between helping Mercedes and keeping Ford alive, I chose to help Ford, knowing that if either sibling was harmed, Porschia would never forgive me. She’d come to some sort of understanding about my role in her mother’s death, but if anything happened to her siblings, it would solidify her hatred for me and I’d lose her for good. Mercedes
was
growing fangs, but if she was turning back into a night-walker, it was a slow transition this time. However, Ford was in immediate danger. My mind had trouble wrapping around what I just saw. Delilah was a danger I couldn’t understand and didn’t know how to combat.

Panic filled my veins and I hoped Porschia felt it and came running. Could I drain a witch? Would she spell me, too?

And what did she need Ford for?

One thing was for certain; we would soon find out. And I wasn’t letting either of them out of my sight as long as I could help it.

 

 

 

 

I stopped and gripped my chest; my heart fluttering and then stopping, pounding and then icy fear. Panic. Rage.

Saul was terrified.

Bewildered.

Worried.

“What is it?” Tage asked, at my side in a split-second. Roman stopped, too.

“It’s Saul. Something’s really wrong,” I gasped. “We need to go back. Now.”

“I smell the Infected. It’s not far away,” Tage said, pacing in front of me.

“I’ll get an Infected. You go with Porschia,” Roman told Tage.

I nodded and took off before either of them could try to talk me out of it. Talking took too much time. I could feel that this was a mortal emergency. There was an urgency in Saul that I’d never felt before.

Pumping my arms, I pushed harder, faster, leaping over fallen trees, boulders, streams. Tearing through the underbrush like an angry wind, I ran. I had to find him. Now.

 

 

 

When the two lovebirds left, I ran after them, waiting for Porschia to weaken and slow. We ran back twice as fast as we’d left and she never tired. Fueled by panic and fear, she ran faster than I would ever be able to. Tage fell behind, too, but wouldn’t leave her. His bond would guide the way, just as hers to Saul was leading her steps.

I, however, decided on another path. Concerned for my friend, I waited behind Maggie’s house in the darkness, listening to her labored breath, to Mercedes and Porschia striving to heal their broken bond…and that’s when I heard the ugly truth. That Porschia had killed my brother, severing ours forever. That’s when I knew that she was dangerous to everyone, that I would get revenge and that Mercedes, who so quickly agreed to her snuffing out my brother’s life, would die. I just had to find her.

 

Thank God for his many blessings in my life.

I want to thank my husband, kids and parents for their constant support. Their love knows no boundaries and they are my blessings.

Thanks to Stacy Sanford for wielding your red pen upon this manuscript and making it amazing. Also for not beating me with said red pen for my love of commas.

Thanks to Daniel Wells for modeling for the cover, Cassy Roop for the awesome cover photo, Marisa Shor for designing the covers for this amazing series and to Allyson Gottlieb and Marisa for making the interior as awesome as the exterior.

Thanks to Ashley Cestra for beta-reading this bad boy! And thanks to Cristie Alleman for reading the final version for consistency!

Thanks to Amber Garcia. She is my right hand and I appreciate all that she does on a daily basis for me and my books.

Thanks to my street team, the Bond-tourage! Ladies and Gents, you are simply amazing! Thank you for your love and support, but mostly for your enthusiastic cheerleading skills!

Readers: Thank you for loving these books!

 

 

 

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