Hell's Belle (12 page)

The battle was a bloody thing of beauty. Time slowed. Our breathing evened, and the adrenaline flowed. I was oblivious to the sting of rocks cutting my bare feet or the warm sweat trickling down my back. There was only us three, floating across a sea of grass, determined to kill these nightmarish things.

Slash. Cut. Dodge. Thrust. The hounds were built for tracking, speed, and stamina. But they couldn’t turn quickly. Within moments, both were seriously wounded. However, every wound healed, and they kept coming. As if by unspoken consensus, magic began to simultaneously run down our swords.

Mynx’s magic glowed greenish-gold. Jacq’s shimmered silver, like the runes now blazing from her sword. I used my weaker, green earth-magic. As I watched, every cut Jacq made glowed with the silver runes. Then those glowing glyphs slid into the hounds’ bodies. Not only did those wounds not heal, they continued to grow as time progressed. The spell seemed familiar, but I couldn’t remember from where. And there was no time to consider the missing memory.

One hound went down. Jacq stepped aside to finish it. Mynx had the other cornered. It fell, and she prepared to take its head. I turned my attention to locating the third.

Fighting in the daytime was always surreal. Blood and gore were meant for the dark of night. But that’s not always how it goes. The grass beneath my feet was warm. The sky was bright with only a few nimbus clouds hanging against a blue horizon. The smell of May’s early roses was in the air. Oh, and there was Death, Magic and Evil-Intent lurking. See? It doesn’t sound right. And it didn’t feel right.

Everything had ended too easily, but I couldn’t pinpoint the cause of my unease. It was simply a bad feeling—a sudden heavy weight in my gut, a painful clutch at my heart.

I approached the wards, tracking the other women from the corner of my eye. The last hound was nowhere to be seen, which might explain my unrest, but the wooded area our drive cut through was quiet. Still. No giant monster creeping in the shadows. I turned back to the others.

At some point, Mynx had moved between me and her downed hound. I moved to keep them both in sight. Sunlight glinted off steel as she swung for its head. As the sword arced downward, the hound lunged. Maybe it had been playing possum. Maybe it had been truly dead and had reanimated.

Whatever its previous condition, it was now very much alive. The hound swerved her death stroke, its bulk ramming Mynx’s side, knocking her off-balance. She fell, but I didn’t have time to worry for anyone but myself as the hound headed directly for me. Hoping escape was its goal, I lunged sideways, opening a ward door with a thought
.
But the hound stopped only feet away, looking from me to the wards. It turned, rearing. Razor-sharp claws tore toward my breast. Eyes widening, I instinctively swung my sword to block but knew I was too slow.

This was so gonna hurt.

Suddenly I was pushed aside. Jacq cried out as she took my place. Momentarily dazed, I lay on my face then rolled about. My unmoving rescuer lay a length away. Dark red blood flowed onto the green grass from a slash in Jacq’s side. Something inside me broke.

NO!
I wasn’t sure if my scream was in my head or aloud. I tore my eyes from the gruesome tableau to the more grim sight of a hound straddling Jacq, jaws ready to sink into a pale throat.

In my periphery, I saw an unarmed Mynx regain her feet. No time. By some miracle, my sword had landed only inches from my hand. But it would take too long to stand and stop the descending jaws. Acting on instinct, I grasped the familiar leather hilt and called my fire, picturing the form I needed. For once, my magic obeyed without hesitation, running down the blade. For a millisecond, my body and mind were frozen. I’d only ever thrown magic from my hands, never my blade. But this was the fastest way. No choice. It had to work. My blue eyes fixed on the hound’s glowing red ones, and I let go.

Like a javelin, a spear of dancing red flames shot through the air, straight into the hound’s gaping jaws. I’d aimed square between its eyes, but that would work. The hellhound’s legs locked in death then began to collapse. Dropping my sword, I lunged to my feet and half-dragged, half-carried an unconscious Jacq away.

We collapsed in a heap near the crumbling corpse. Like my anger at the hound’s actions, my fire raged on, consuming the dead beast. I breathed through my mouth, ignoring the nauseating scent of burning flesh. Holding Jacq between my spread legs, I cradled her to my chest, quickly beginning a healing chant.

I distantly saw Mynx sever the hound’s smoldering head, ensuring it stayed dead this time. Though this healing wouldn’t require my consciousness to leave my body, I was still vulnerable. Bloody sword in hand, Mynx took up a guard position, joining me in the chant. But she kept her distance, knowing the dangers of disrupting a healing.

Jacq.
I ran my hand down her cool cheek. “Stupid, chivalrous woman.” I had a moment to realize I’d said that aloud then I dropped into myself, seeking the healer within. My mind’s eye rose, extending to where my body touched Jacq’s, then further, scanning her. I released a mental sigh of relief. There were no internal injuries, only four bone-deep slashes. Beginning beside her left breast, they curved downward over her ribs and inward across her abdomen, stopping right above her navel.

The bleeding slowed as I poured magic in, knitting muscles, repairing cells. The wounds healed quickly—more so than my skills warranted. The list of Sups that healed this fast was short. But at this moment, I wasn’t interested in another clue to Jacq’s species but simply glad that no matter what she eventually revealed herself to be, our detective was obviously on that list. As the gushing blood slowed to a near trickle, her pulse steadied, then sped, her heart soon beating strongly against my palm where it lay just below her breast. I relaxed, taking my first deep breath since seeing Jacq’s still form.

She would live.

Nearly finished, I took a moment to look past the bones and sinew and
truly
see my patient. If possible, Jacq was even more beautiful when viewed this way. As her magic flowed below and over her skin, she glowed softly with a silver so pure it was nearly white, its shine slowly intensifying as she recovered. And it wasn’t alone. Currents of green earth and red fire magic whispered around us. Unbidden, the latter had risen, and I was too distracted to push it down again. My hands never strayed from Jacq’s side, but as I watched, my fire— without my consent or control—made its own, less-noble intentions known.

A haze of green covered my hands, healing, while red ribbons of flame explored Jacq’s body. Tracing a smooth collarbone. Twining around long limbs. Mapping strong planes of face and form. Sliding through silky hair. New and definitely not part of the healing process, I felt every fiery burst of power like an extension of my own hands…touching her…learning her…lov…No, I wouldn’t even think it.

This was way beyond checking for harm. It went against my healer’s oath, but I couldn’t rein myself in. My head knew she was okay, but it was as if my magic needed its own reassurance.

Jacq’s magic responded in kind, the silver glow rippling, sparking where our magic touched, as if she had her own fire burning deep. I held her in my arms and watched as our fires touched. Instead of raging against each other, consuming themselves in a blazing oblivion, they melted together, forming one whole. The nearly golden glow was so bright I averted my eyes. But sparing my sight did nothing for the rest of me.

I dimly heard Mynx shouting my name but couldn’t respond. She stood near, unable to touch us for fear of making things worse. I wanted to reassure her, but the sensation of merging magic left me speechless. A hundred times stronger than yesterday’s fleeting joining, it was an all-consuming rush beyond passion, beyond pleasure. Although there was plenty of that, as well.

The physical reaction was unimaginable. My breathing hitched. My heart pounded. Warmth streaked from my breasts to my groin, electricity flashing through me to Jacq and back again—a live wire arcing between us. As another powerful burst hit, my back arched, arms tightening convulsively. But even as my body drew Jacq closer, a small part of me tried to push her away.

It saw the magic. It felt the flames. And it knew a fear like no other.

And with good reason. Because stronger than the magic, more powerful than my body’s reaction, was the sense of rightness. A frighteningly familiar feeling. That part of me that could still think, still feel, screamed,
No! No! No!
This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not with her.

And yet, it was.

An unconscious Jacq moaned. From pleasure? From pain? I wasn’t sure. But if she was experiencing a tenth of what I was, then it was the former. I gasped, jerking my magic and consciousness back just as she awoke.

My eyes locked with ones gone completely silver with something unrecognizable. I blushed, understanding how our position appeared. At some point, we’d reclined on the warm lawn, my legs wrapping around hers. My head was tilted forward, hers back, cushioned between my achingly sensitive breasts. I took a deep breath, watching her pupils dilate. I could smell the copper of blood mixed with her unique sage-sandalwood scent, and it was disturbingly arousing.

Part of me wanted to stay there, in the bloody grass and sunshine, and hold her until the dark and cold forced us apart. So I did the only logical thing.

I ran.

I scrambled to disengage, standing quickly. Stone-faced, Mynx jabbed her crimson-stained blade in the grass and helped Jacq sit. I had trouble meeting either woman’s eyes. “Stay.” My voice was gruff, unintentionally expressing my own body’s demands. I grimaced, realizing too late I’d also unintentionally repeated Jacq’s earlier words.

Jacq snorted, “As my lady commands.” The confident, almost sarcastic response didn’t match the strained lines around her mouth.

I laughed. Something in my chest simultaneously eased and tightened. Humor was good, but the flutter her wording caused was not. Brushing it aside, I said, “Careful you don’t look for trouble. Just ask this one.” I nodded toward Mynx, who grunted in silent affirmation. “I can be a harsh taskmaster. Speaking of which, think you can stand with some help?” The gashes were barely bleeding, but Jacq was still too pale. I wasn’t sure how much blood she’d already lost. If the old saying was true and blood really did make the grass grow, then to my disconcerted eye the red-black puddle spreading across the green lawn would keep us in fertilizer for a long time.

“Yes.” Jacq nodded then groaned at the movement. As Mynx and I moved to lift her, our eyes met over her auburn head. Mynx’s face was carefully bare, but I saw the concern in her eyes. I shook my head. If I wasn’t ready to talk about it to myself, I certainly wasn’t ready to talk with someone else.

We carefully proceeded to carry Jacq to the house. But of course there is always a silver lining, which I managed to find as we settled our guest in the kitchen for a little Dr. Delacy home medicine. With an injured guest, two mutilated hellhound corpses on the front lawn, a blood trail drying in the sun, and general chaos abounding, it was unlikely that my aunt would notice the demise of her favorite vase…at least not any time soon.

Chapter Seven

“Many Magical creatures mate for life. Others cannot propagate until they find their biological match. See the mating dance of the elusive Brownie…”

—Discovery Supernatural Channel

Jacq might have been more comfortable in a guest room rather than leaning against the kitchen table, but lugging her upstairs was beyond us. By the time we dragged the injured, surprisingly heavy woman through the front hall, past the broken vase, and into the kitchen, I was out of breath. Mynx arched a brow at the porcelain jumble scattered across the hardwood floors, thankfully not saying a word at my muttered, “I know nothing. I see nothing.”

I gazed at the blood slowly dripping onto the kitchen’s brown tiles, trying not to let my anger show. Was I angry with myself for being careless or with Jacq for taking a blow meant for me? Probably both. Mynx took one look at my face and silently left the room. I knew without asking that the practical brunette was getting our bloody guest clean clothes.

Jacq looked from me to Mynx’s retreating back and misunderstood. “Don’t blame Mynx. This was my fault. Maybe if I’d been faster, more attentive.” She huffed, roughly pushing a blood-splattered hand through her hair.

Needing to keep busy, I turned, becoming a whirlwind of motion as I gathered supplies. My words were clipped, my movements jerky as I pulled things from cabinets and drawers. “Absolutely. It’s your fault you’re a stubborn, chivalrous, brave, stupid woman who pushed me aside so that thing could maul you instead.” A cabinet door banged as I closed it. “I blame you fully for getting between me and its claws. Claws, by the way, that wouldn’t have gotten near me if
I’d
been more attentive.” I shoved a drawer closed with my hip, setting the herbs I’d pulled from it on the counter. “So, of course that must also be your fault.” Spinning around, I blew a strand of hair from my eyes, gesturing to her top, making an effort to calm down. “But what’s done is done. Let me see how badly you’re hurt.”

Jacq crossed her arms, grimacing slightly. “The wound will heal on its own. There’s no need…”

At my glower, her words petered out. I
knew
the wound would heal. I’d made certain of it. That wasn’t good enough. I was weak, worried, and expecting a killer headache from using so much magic. None of which put me in the best mood.

“Count yourself blessed. I only want to clean and bandage it. If Aunt Helena were here, she’d be poking at you with a needle and thread. Of course if you’d rather wait for her tender care…” I waved my hand. Jacq’s sudden, almost frightened expression was nearly laughable.

Before I could blink, she whipped the tattered shirt up, stopping just below her breasts. I sucked in a breath, stopping my hand before it reached to touch the angry slashes that ran around her ribs and over her stomach. I’d seen them with my magic. But it had been more an idea of a thing, not right there in black and white…or, in this case, crimson and rose. Luckily, the cuts no longer appeared as deep. Most of the blood seemed to be dripping from her clothes.