Hell's Belle (31 page)

I gasped another breath then sank again, edging on my butt through the water to a fallen oak whose roots hung over the creek, never taking my eyes off Titus. If I stood, I was an easy target. One blast, even a graze, could be fatal. The blow might not kill me, but for my pets that was like blood in the water. Protecting myself with magic would have the same result, and I didn’t feel like being their aperitif. I made it to the oak and lifted myself from the water. I lay under the roots, using them to slide on my back up the muddy bank.

Once hatched, the boralis would never leave the water. As long as I stayed beyond their jumping range and Titus’s line of sight, I’d be okay. I breathed deeply but quietly, watching. If at the very beginning Titus had simply stopped and walked away, he might have made it out. Now, the fish spun around him with such force that he couldn’t retreat. But Titus had bigger worries than what was in the water. The whirlpool of magic eaters circling him had never been my intention. Neither was ending up in the creek. That had been a frightening but fortuitous accident.

Titus’s fate had been sealed with the one and only blow I’d landed. His expression changed as that realization finally
bit
him. The human body is made up of over ninety percent water. Even decomposing bodies were still mostly H
₂
O. The embers I’d placed on Titus’s back had burrowed into the cut and hatched. They were now eating him from the inside out. I’d intended it as a distraction, a means to siphon off some of his magic until the others could help capture him. I’d only limited my own magical expenditures in the event I cut myself. I hadn’t expected embers to fly every time our blades touched.

Titus’s mouth opened in a silent scream, his face contorted in horror rather than pain. He dropped to his knees, everything but his head underwater. At this point, I could’ve left. Titus wouldn’t be getting up. The fish would finish the job, and this creek was just a spillover from a neighbor’s much larger pond, so the boralis could only go so far upstream before they’d have to turn and flow into our pond. But I continued to watch as I dragged my reclining body farther up the bank. It was a horrible way to go but no less than he deserved.

A tear that had nothing to do with the slowing rain fell. Peter Traylor had been dead for months. His family would never get his body back, but I’d make sure someone told them that he was gone. Peter’s family shouldn’t have to spend their entire lives wondering if he would ever walk in the door.

My grandmother had once told me that
boralis
meant water-fire. That was why, of all creatures, I’d picked them to keep as pets. That was also what the fish resembled as they fed. Baby fires, seeded in the gel I’d rubbed on my sword hours before, born as my flames sparked against Titus’s magic, now a blazing water cyclone.

As the water rose, Titus sank lower. Being a malicious spirit residing within a dead body, he couldn’t receive the sweet mercy of a quick death. His essence would live on until every last bit of dark magic was consumed. That would take days, maybe longer. I made no effort to move until his soulless, horrified eyes sank into the frothing, darkened water.

For the first time since landing in the water, the chill in my bones had nothing to do with my wet clothes.

Chapter Seventeen

“I’ll take you through the looking glass. That is, if you don’t mind that the glass is black and that it’ll dump you out into the middle of hellhound central. ’Cause if you’re okay with that, I’d be happy to punch your ticket.”

—Cate Delacy

“CATE?”

I was still half-under the oak’s tangled roots, hidden in the sweeping shadow of Spanish moss, when Jacq came for me. I turned my weak head to see her look at the school of teeming fish and the red blood washing onto the creek’s sandy shore. My voice caught her just as she set to dive in. “If I have to jump back in that water and save your ass from my man-eating guppies, I’m going to be really pissed.”

I sat up, groaning as my sore abdomen, sore arms and sore everything else protested. The little prick had certainly given me a run for my money. Jacq hopped over tree roots and rocks, skidding to a stop by my side. She practically yanked me to my feet before pulling me into a tight embrace, her magic roaming my body, searching for injuries.

For a moment I gloried in her heat, my body feeling warm for the first time in what felt like hours. Then I pushed away, looking down in shame. “I’m getting mud and river gunk all over you.” I brushed at a clump of mud that sat where my head had rested against her navy shirt but stopped as my dirty hands simply spread more.

Body shaking with relieved laugher, Jacq pulled me in for another hug. Maybe I had gone crazy because the situation seemed funny to me too, but I was too sore to laugh.

“Forget the clothes. They can be replaced.”

I breathed in her tantalizing scent, doubly nice after the smell of Titus’s decay. This time I didn’t push her away. Jacq was toasty warm, and the sensation of our bodies pressed tight was wonderful. I burrowed closer, tucking my head under her chin. I untucked her shirt, pushing my cold hands against her warm sides. Jacq jumped, and I risked a laugh. The ache across my ribs was worth it. “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” I murmured, smiling against her neck. For this, I’d dry clean her entire closet.

Jacq spoke softly into my hair, her voice husky with emotion, “What happened? You were supposed to distract him, not drown him.” Her words teased, but her body was stiff.

Acting on instinct, I grasped her tighter, pushing my body against hers, reminding her that I was very much still alive, even as I smiled and teased back. “What can I say? I’m an overachiever.” Jacq laughed softly, but then my smile slipped. Wellsy knew a great deal about our family. Nicodemus wanted me, which meant that information had been compromised. Biting the bullet, I quietly added, “He was as much here for me as he was for Brittan. It was kill him or let him take me.”

Jacq stiffened. I ran my dirty hands up the planes of her back, rubbing at the muscles I knew were as tired as my own. I pulled back. “There’s more, but we’ll get to it later. Come on, we’d better get back.” I pulled my boots off and poured the water out.

Jacq grabbed my hand, helping me over the mass of roots, stones and mud. I didn’t let go when we reached smoother ground, carrying my boots in my other hand. Only once did I look over my shoulder at the creek turning black with the setting sun. The glance wasn’t necessary. The memory of Titus’s face—the face that had once belonged to Peter Traylor—as he sank beneath the waters would be etched into my mind until my last breath. And that was how it was supposed to be.

The day I stopped caring was the day I’d lay my sword down for good.

Jacq squeezed my hand. Could she feel my turmoil over what I’d done? “Risa was hit by the sorcerer’s last volley,” she said. I’d nearly forgotten my question as to how the others fared. “Her back was turned, and we weren’t expecting…” Jacq’s voice trailed off. Her set jaw said she blamed herself, though I knew she had been responsible for protecting Becca, not Risa. This time, I was the one squeezing her hand. “She’s shifted to heal, but Mynx says the magic’s poison is seeping into her system.”

At her words, I hurried my steps over the soft pine needles. I could see light from the clearing ahead. “And the nesreterka?” At Jacq’s puzzled look, I explained. “The raptors.” Rain, now just a drizzle, fell on our heads. I could feel the cool liquid washing trails of mud down the back of my cargo pants, but I didn’t feel the chill thanks to the continuous heat streaking from Jacq’s hand up my arm and throughout my body.

“Subdued. Mynx said you wanted to wait before taking the heads and hearts?” Jacq’s face was in profile, but the question was clear.

“Yes. Serena may be able to read their minds to determine Nicodemus’s location. That was my backup plan, and it looks like we’re going to need it.” I didn’t say any more as we entered the open meadow and saw the destruction. It was an instinctual decision to spare the raptors. One I didn’t regret when I saw the three carcasses laid out, back-to-back, in a triangular, defensive position.

As if reading my thoughts, Jacq explained, “Near the end the sorcerer’s hold slipped and they retreated to that position.”

As we passed one, I quickly kneeled, running my hand over the surprisingly soft skin. I could feel the creature’s ribs. They’d been starved nearly to death. As promised, everything vital was still intact, but the raptors didn’t react to my touch. I looked up.

Jacq shook her head. “Stunned only, but this time we took no chances. I hit them with enough magic to keep them out for half a day.”

I knew she was thinking of the hellhound attack and the close call that could’ve cost me my life. Before kneeling, I’d noted Mynx’s green wards circling the bodies. They allowed us to enter but kept the animals contained. Assured that the raptors wouldn’t awaken any time soon, I moved to where a white and black striped tiger lay panting in a patch of tall grass dotted with yellow daisies. It was strange to see the tiny beautiful flowers surrounding the large dangerous animal. Rom and Mynx knelt by her side while Fera stood a few steps back, sword still drawn.

“If that weapon’s for the sorcerer, you can put it away. He’s not coming back.”

“All the same. I’ll keep an eye on your menagerie over there.” Fera tilted her head toward the raptors.

I simply nodded, adding my voice to Mynx’s healing chant. I didn’t need my powers to see the long black burn streaking from the tiger’s right furred shoulder all the way down her muscular back. The burn, in itself, would be painful and damaging, but the tainted magic had to be excruciating…and if not treated quickly… I shook my head, not wanting to consider the possibilities.

Kneeling, I placed one hand on her neck, the other on her side. Just before I left my body, it occurred to me that someone was missing. “Where’s Becca?” Under my hand, Risa’s damp fur rose and fell as she took short, pained breaths.

Fists clenched at his sides, Rom answered, “She went to call the Clan for more help.” I just nodded. Becca was right…almost. We
would
need help, more even than Grey could provide, but that was a talk for later.

I swiftly rose into the mind’s eye, surveying the damage. I tried to keep the worry off my face. This was worse than I’d expected. Hurrying, I said, “Romulus Legion, do you give me leave to work the magical arts on your sister of the blood, knowing that it must be done to keep her from falling into the endless sleep?” My voice echoed like a phantom between the physical and metaphysical planes. Of course, I could’ve just said, “Can I zap your sister till she gets better?” That would’ve been my preference, but Weres responded best to formality, sugar, and piss-covered walls. And I was fresh out of the last two.

“It’s necessary?” Hesitant, his voice was tight with worry.

“Yes.” My answer was echoed by the others. Risa whined. In acceptance? In denial?

It didn’t matter, because Rom growled, “Do what you have to. I give my consent.” And just like that, I unleashed my fire.

I said, “Hold her,” and sensed more than saw Mynx and Rom toss themselves across Risa. I whispered, “I’m sorry.” Then a half-human, half-animal scream echoed across the planes as my fire, following my will, flooded her, rushing through her veins, racing to burn out any taint that wouldn’t be forced out. Cool tears slid down cheeks I no longer possessed.

There was no time for gentleness. No time for a magic less painful. No time to take back my agreement to allow the Weres to assist us in our fight, no matter how much I wished that I could. I’d told Rom this was to prevent Risa from falling into the “endless sleep.” And maybe it was. Maybe all the black-magic would do was kill, but I couldn’t be sure, especially not with the memory of Peter Traylor’s soulless eyes still fresh in my mind.

I dug deep, letting every ounce of magic I could find come to bear against the quickly spreading poisoned darkness, uncaring if my eyes glowed blue with magic or even if flames crawled up my skin, twisting like fiery serpents around my arms, marking me as the demon spawn that I was. I dimly heard a cursing Rom ask if it was necessary to torture his sister, felt Fera’s watchful eyes on me, and knew that the body beneath me was becoming dangerously hot. But I ignored it all.

There were worse things in life than pain, worse things than dying. Worse things than exposing to a Council operative the secret that I’d been trying to keep my entire life. Things like being taken—body and soul—by something that could wear another man’s face, speak with another man’s voice, but never consider the damage it might wreak on another man’s heart. I would not stand idly by and watch while this thing…this darkness…claimed yet another victim.

Even if that meant we all died in the process.

* * *

“Gin!” Helena crowed.

“S— Crap.” Brittan threw her cards down. They’d played two rounds of Go Fish, followed by three of Texas Hold ’em, and finally four of gin rummy. Brittan had yet to win a game, and her cards had frequently been good. If she didn’t know better, she’d suspect Helena of cheating. Brittan folded her cards, looking out the window. The light passing through the swaying crepe myrtles was watery. Thunder rolled, accompanied by a
pat
pat
as an occasional raindrop blew against the glass panes. This storm had nearly passed.
But what of the other?

“I think it’s time we go.”

At Helena’s words, Brit looked up. Helena’s eyes had a far-off look, hazy, as if she were lost somewhere inside her mind. The Delacys hadn’t mentioned psychic powers. But then, there was a lot they hadn’t mentioned. Of course it could simply be the brandy Helena had mixed into her tea. Brit found it humorous that in this world gambling and alcohol were permissible when cursing was not.

Brittan followed as Helena moved through the house piling seemingly random items into a basket, which she passed to Brit. Blanket. Water. Five packs of hamburger meat? Brittan didn’t become concerned until Helena grabbed a black bag. Eyes now clear and focused, Helena looked into the bag. “We’ll need more bandages.” Cate’s aunt headed upstairs.