Something to Curse About (19 page)

TWENTY-SIX

“I thought I’d removed you from the equation, Miss Jones.”

Oh, yeah, I remembered that voice. Unable to stand, I scooted around to face him while blinking tears from my eyes. Crazy Curseman flipped back the hood of his cloak, revealing his face. Definitely an elf. He had the long hair, pointy ears, and handsome face perfectly configured for the arrogant expression on it.

That’s where the resemblance to the elves I’d met ended, because this guy looked like a follower of the mighty church of Goth. Pale blue streaked his ebony hair, a shocking contrast to his skin, which looked as though the sun had never, ever touched it. I’d been expecting him to look like the drows from fantasy novels. Instead, his skin was pure, fresh snow white while his lips matched the pale blue streaks in his hair.

He looked like a frozen corpse dressed in way too much black, except for his eyes, which were bright yellow.

My voice shook, ruining my attempt to sound like a badass. “What the hell is your malfunction, dude?”

A sneer curled his lips, giving me a glimpse of his teeth. I wondered if they were naturally pointed or if he’d sharpened them to look scarier. “You’re nothing more than an ill-mannered child. Quite a disappointment.”

The far-off wail of sirens offered some hope that help would arrive before he lifted the bow in his left hand and stuck another arrow in me. I had to survive long enough for that help to arrive first, so began gathering what I could of my TK. It didn’t feel like much with the hot poker stabbing my shoulder. “You haven’t seen my bad manners yet.”

Beyond the confines of the pit, people were scrambling and yelling that the cops were coming. Curseman didn’t seem worried about the imminent arrival of the law. “What I’ve seen is an infant unable to use its gifts properly. A pathetic, mewling, useless sack of flesh.”

I’d been meeting entirely too many douchebags lately, which probably meant I should reconsider my career path or something. Maybe later, when I had some downtime, if later proved a luxury I’d have. Flinging my good arm, I said, “Eat dirt.”

Curseman flew to the left, and be damned if he didn’t tuck, land in a roll, and come to a sliding halt on his feet, sneer still intact. “As I said, pathetic
.
I don’t know what he sees….”

That’s when Logan landed on him like a ton of furry bricks. I cheered as the black tiger’s jaws closed on the elf’s shoulder. Now I wasn’t the only one bleeding. “Take that, you scum-sucking, low-life worm!”

Tiger and elf rolled to the side, and Curseman punched Logan in the nose with his now bow-less left fist. Logan yowled, digging his claws into the dark elf’s chest, and left gaping tears in the leather vest covering it when a shouted word ripped him away from Curseman.

Logan landed on his feet and circled the elf, halting once he stood between us. His tail lashed the air and he didn’t seem eager to jump back into the fight. The sirens were drawing closer, but I had the feeling rescue would be too late for us.

“Nice pet. He’ll make a lovely rug.”

I grabbed a handful of fur and made it to my feet, not bothering to fight the low scream of pain the move called forth. Gasping for breath, I glared at the dark elf. “Don’t you hurt him.”

“I will do whatever I wish.” He uttered another word, and blue fire blazed into existence in his hands. Logan flinched as it streaked toward us, expanding as it came.

For a tiny second, I thought we were done for. Right up until the blue flames spattered against the shield that shimmered into existence around us, turning it dark green. A wavy flash of something white resolved into a dog at the same instant pain blared through my mind, filling my eyes with fresh tears and further blurring my vision. Fur slipped from my grasp as Logan changed shape, moving to catch me before I fell over.

Through the wavy screen of the shield, we watched the dog attack the dark elf, and I realized it wasn’t Bone as I’d first thought, but Sal, and asked one of the dumbest questions of my life. “Is my mom here?”

Logan didn’t get a chance to answer because Curseman screamed as Sal’s teeth clamped onto one of his forearms. A thick swirl of dust rose around them, and when it settled, they were gone.

My mouth had fallen open. I closed it and swallowed. “He stole one of my dogs.”

“I don’t think that was,” Logan paused as the shield popped and faded. “A dog.”

“He stole one of my dogs,” I repeated then added, “Turn the alarm off.”

“Those are sirens.” His face swam into sight, covered in flowery, multi-colored sparkles. “Discord?”

“Night, night.” I closed my eyes, letting pain and exhaustion carry me off for a visit to unconsciousness.

***

My own groan woke me. “Stop it.”

“She’s conscious,” a voice reported. I opened my eyes, only to immediately close them again due to an assault of brightness, and became aware of pressure across my legs and torso. I lay on my side, one arm trapped under me, the other held to my side by a strap.

“Where’s Logan?”

“Right here.”

I risked cracking one eye open and saw him sitting a few feet away. The bouncing and paramedic leaning over me informed me we were hitching a ride in an ambulance. The paramedic did something to my shoulder. “Ow!”

“Sorry, I have to secure this.” He moved slightly, and I saw Tonya sitting next to Logan. She held an icepack over the lump on her noggin, and I could also see her dog’s head resting in her lap. The dog carrier sat on Logan’s other side, and he held the bag in his lap.

“The other dogs?”

“I sent them to the garage, and called Soames, told him to expect them,” he said. “Mr. Whitehaven and Terra will meet us at the hospital.”

“Are you, son of a…would you stop touching the damn arrow?” The paramedic ignored me, his cornflower-blue eyes focused on my wound. In a different situation and with no boyfriend, I might have angled for a date with him, because he was seriously cute. However, the cuteness didn’t compete well against the spikes of pain caused by whatever he was busy doing to my shoulder.

“I’m fine. She’s got a mild concussion,” Logan said.

“Okay.” I closed my eye. “I hope you’re almost done, because I’m two seconds away from cussing you out.”

“Cuss away if it helps,” the paramedic said. “Just don’t throw up on me. I hate smelling like vomit for half my shift. My name’s Mike. What’s yours?”

“Discord, ahh,” I gritted my teeth and swallowed. “Jones.”

“Discord, huh? Pretty unique.”

“Everyone says that,” I muttered, wishing he’d hurry up and finish. The pain affected my stomach, and throwing up on him became a distinct possibility.

He stopped. “That’ll do until we get you to the ER. Can you open your eyes and tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”

I took a quick peek. “Three.”

“Good.”

My shoulder screamed as the ambulance bounced through a dip in the road. “Why don’t you just pull it out?”

“Can’t have you bleeding out all over my ride.” Mike leaned close to check my wound, but didn’t touch it again. “Dr. Allan and Dr. Jamison wouldn’t be happy with me if I let that happen.”

He’d named the two doctors who’d taken care of me during my three-year, Melding-induced coma and recovery from it. I frowned. “I haven’t seen Dr. Allan since finishing physical therapy.”

Mike chuckled. “You’re going to need PT with this kind of wound.”

Unless you lose the arm
, I heard him think. My “What?” was a panicked shriek as I opened my eyes again.

His sandy brown eyebrows rose. “What, what?”

“I could lose my arm? Are you serious?”

“Oh, right. They told us you’re psychic.” He shook his head. “Sorry. Dr. Allan’s a super surgeon. He’ll take that nasty arrow out and fix you up good as new. Let’s do some slow, easy breathing and calm down. Breathe in…”

I obeyed, but man, Curseman would pay with his hide if Dr. Allan couldn’t help me. Maybe my healing ability would take up any slack? I hoped so. It’d be hard to keep doing my job with only one arm. Not to mention, I’d be spending a lot of time learning how to do things with my left hand if my right one went missing.

A lot of people learned to deal with missing limbs. I could too, but suddenly didn’t want to think about it anymore. Instead, I asked Logan another question. “Did I imagine things, or was that Sal?”

“The dog that jumped in? Yeah, it was the old one you sent with your mother, but I don’t think it’s really a dog.”

Which I’d already suspected, and the idea my Indian fairy godfather wasn’t a delusion gave me enough food for thought for the rest of the ride.

A whole lot more appeared once we arrived and they were wheeling me into the ER, because I saw Dr. Allan. Only it wasn’t really him. “Hey, you…”

He smiled, said something under his breath, and my voice quit working. Reduced to glaring, I tried to figure out how Thorandryll’s healer, Alleryn, had taken my doctor’s place. No one else seemed to notice the elf, except for Logan, who stared at him with narrowed eyes.

Alleryn leaned close to whisper, “I’m here to help you, as I have before.”

Wait a minute. I plowed through my memories, snatching at one from when I’d woken from my coma. Where I’d thought, for just a second, that Dr. Allan looked different. That he’d had longer hair or something for an instant.

Allan.

Alleryn.

Argh, elves and their damn glamour. I intended to take a page from David’s book and have questions later, but right then, gave him a nod. The mahogany-haired elf murmured another word, and I felt something ease in my throat. He didn’t give me a chance to speak. “We’ll take you right into surgery. Don’t worry, I’ve removed arrows from far less pleasant places without any trouble. ”

Five minutes later, they anesthetized me into unconsciousness, and my fairy godfather decided to pay a visit.

A point of light in the darkness grew, resolving into Sal. He sighed while looking me over. “You weren’t ready to face Dalsarin.”

“The dark elf?”

Sal nodded. “Now my cover’s blown and I’ve used up one of the Avatars I’m allowed this time around.”

“You’re real, and you were a dog.” God, how much weirder could my life possibly get? “How long were you a dog?”

“Oh, about four, no,” his face wrinkled even more. “Six years.”

“How could you be a dog and…”

He flapped his hand at me. “Hush, too many questions. Now, you’ve just received some important information. It’d be in your best interests not to forget it.”

“Which part? That you were a dog or that my doctor’s an elf?” When his lips thinned, I felt a surge of defensiveness. “Hey, I have a big honkin’ arrow sticking out of my shoulder. Cut me some slack.”

Sal made a fist and knocked it gently on my head. “Use your brain, child. That’s what it’s there for.”

I hesitated, feeling something tugging at my shoulder. “Am I going to lose my arm?”

He snorted. “No, the elf’s one of the finest healers alive and he’s not one to balk at doing whatever’s necessary. You’ll be fine this time.”

This time? I gulped. “How do we take this Dalsarin down?”

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself. It’s against the rules for me to hand you solutions.” Sal held up his hand, shaking his head until his silvery gray hair rustled. “Don’t ask about the rules. You’re in enough trouble. I can tell you that you need to get the dark elf out of the city before he spills much more blood, or the city will become his.”

I growled. “Sure, no problem. Maybe he’ll leave if I ask him nicely.”

“No, you’ll have to force him out, and you don’t have much time.” Sal glanced from side to side before slapping his hand against my wounded shoulder.

I writhed as far away from him as possible, aware of a soothing coolness spreading into the wound. “Ahh, holy crap! What’d you do that for?”

“Shh. I just cheated a tiny bit.” Sal bared his surprisingly white teeth in a grin, his wrinkles squishing together on his cheeks. “You’ll be fine. Use your damn brain, girl. I’ll talk to you later.”

He disappeared, leaving me to sleep.

TWENTY-SEVEN

My shoulder ached. Jumbled thoughts slid across my mind, increasing as I grew more conscious. I groaned, trying to pull my mental shield into place, but the combination of drugs and the sheer volume of life around me defeated the attempt.

A warm hand touched my uninjured arm. “Remember what I taught you. Find a quiet one and focus on it.”

Dr. Allan. No, Alleryn.

I’d taken his advice as a teen, and took it again because it’d worked then; searching for one mind that wasn’t as loud as the others. A few more groans escaped before I found one that flowed quiet and slow, no thoughts breaking through its surface to batter at my mind.

Once focused on it, I began the laborious process of rebuilding my shield. The elf’s hand rested on my arm, providing silent contact with the physical world. Nothing leaked from him, not even any emotions.

After what felt like hours, I opened my eyes to beige ceiling tiles before looking at the elf. Alleryn smiled, patted my arm once, and removed his hand. “Good. How do you feel?”

“Thirsty.”

He poured water into a waiting cup, added a straw, and held it for me to drink. A few sips later, I felt ready to begin asking questions. “My shoulder?”

“It should be fully healed within a week or so. I used a rather unorthodox method to bolster your auto-healing ability. You’ll need to wear a sling until then.”

“Okay.” Sunlight shone around the edges of the drapes covering the window. “How long have I been out?”

“Only overnight. It’s nine twenty-seven AM.” He didn’t even look at a watch. “Do you want me to tell you what’s happened, or would you rather hear it from the dozen or so people waiting to see you?”

I grimaced, certain that would be overwhelming. “You tell me.”

“No suicides last night, so you apparently disrupted the curser’s evening plans.” Alleryn’s teeth nearly glowed in the dim light when he smiled. “The deputies rounded up several of those attending the dog fight, and the dogs you freed are safe at your tiger friend’s home.”

Both huge pluses. Yay for the good guys. “What else?”

“The young woman you rescued will be fine. However,” Alleryn hesitated, his grass-green gaze leaving my face to focus on my wounded shoulder. “I believe that a night free of human deaths hasn’t helped the mayor’s disposition and he’s exerting pressure on the police. Your witch friend, the detective, seems to be feeling quite a lot of that pressure.”

Poor Damian. Wait, what had he said a minute ago? “Did you say ‘deputies’?”

Alleryn nodded. “Yes, your friend called in the Sheriff’s department. I don’t think that pleased his captain.”

Professional rivalry. Great. I felt guilty, knowing Damian had done it because he didn’t think he’d get there in time to help. Then again, the gulley was outside city limits, so technically out of the police department’s jurisdiction. “Okay. What did you mean by ‘unorthodox method’? What’d you do to me? And what the hell are you doing masquerading as a human doctor?”

The elf sighed. “It would take far too long to explain right now, Miss Jones, and there are some things I’m simply unable to share.”

I glared. “Give me the short version.”

“Very well.” His brow creased slightly. “Dark, bad. Light, good. We’re on the same side. Trust me.”

Like I’d just take his word for it, after the things I’d learned about elves. “Right.”

Alleryn straightened, his shoulders square and firm under the white lab coat. “Our behavior as a whole may leave much to be desired, but I assure you we do not wish to see this world become the horror it would if
darkness held sway.” He relaxed slightly, the corners of his mouth quirking. “We’d have far less time for more entertaining pursuits.”

Something familiar crawled across my shield. I caught hold of it and felt my mouth drop open. It was an image of Kate. “Holy crap. You’re the mysterious boyfriend.”

The elf’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t try and play it off. You’re Kate’s boyfriend.” That certainly explained her lack of checking out other guys. Who would, with a hot elf at her beck and call?

He shrugged and dropped the attempted innocent act. “I’d appreciate you not sharing that information.”

“I won’t.” Not for him, but for Kate, and mostly because Percy didn’t seem to mind. Her familiar would’ve let everyone know about it, if he’d disapproved of the relationship. “You didn’t answer my first question.”

“Which…oh, yes. I gave you an infusion of shifter blood. The benefits don’t last more than a few hours, but that was enough to speed the healing process once I’d finished repairing what I could.”

I had to think about that for a minute. “Are there going to be any side effects?”

“None. Well, no physical side effects. Sharing blood’s a rather serious matter for shifters.” He raised an eyebrow and anticipated my next question. “Your bodyguard donated since he’s a universal donor, which led to an unpleasant altercation with your extremely bad-tempered wolf after he arrived. I believe he blames the other for your injury.”

My bodyguard? Who…oh, I remembered. Logan had told Alleryn he was my bodyguard, after the fight at the club the demons had attacked.

“It required Lord Whitehaven’s stepping in to end it.” The elf cocked his head. “Do you want to know who appeared to be winning before he did?”

“Gah.”
Men
. I closed my eyes. “No. How come your glamour’s not working on me anymore?”

“The combination of pain and lack of control of your abilities, I imagine. Now that you’ve broken it, you’ll probably always be able to see through mine.” He walked around the bed and began unsnapping the buttons on the sleeve of my hospital gown. “I’m going to take a quick peek. Who do you want to see first?”

Talk about a loaded question. “Who’s out there?”

“Detective Schumacher, Lord Whitehaven, your bodyguard, the White Queen, two wolves, one of them yours, the young woman, a Deputy Martin, and your mother,” he paused, flashing a smile. “I quite like her.”

“Leave my mother alone.” I gave him the fiercest glare I could manage, and winced when he touched a finger my shoulder. Pain slid down my arm to my fingers, which twitched. “Ouch.”

“I’m not fool enough to harm your mother, even if I wanted to. I said I liked her. I do. She’s an interesting person to converse with.” Alleryn replaced the bandages and began snapping the sleeve’s buttons. “The wound’s sealed, and I don’t think it’ll leave much of a scar.”

I didn’t care if the injury left a big, ugly scar. That was way better than losing an arm. “Thank you.”

The elf stepped back two paces and bowed. “You’re quite welcome.” He straightened. “Now, who shall I send in first?”

***

Mom bustled through the door, Schumacher on her heels. She dropped a paper bag beside the bed. “My poor baby.”

“I’m okay.” I’d talked Alleryn into raising the head of the bed so that I wouldn’t be flat on my back. Mom kissed my cheek, smoothed my hair back, and began digging around in her purse. She pulled out a brush. I let her go to town on my hair and gave the detective my attention. “What’s going on?”

Schumacher dropped into a chair and rubbed a hand over his face. There were dark circles under his eyes and his clothes looked as though he’d slept in them. “Captain’s pissed. The mayor’s pissed. Damian and me, we’re the ones getting pissed on.”

“I’m sorry. I kind of lost it last night, after seeing,” I swallowed, remembering the little torn bodies. “I couldn’t let them kill any more dogs.”

He waved a hand at me, but I could feel the frustration and worry spilling from him. “I like dogs, Jones, and you going ballistic did some good. They picked up nearly two dozen men. Someone will talk, and there weren’t any suicides last night. At least, none we’ve discovered yet.”

“Where’s Damian?”

Schumacher’s expression smoothed even as his worry surged. “On break.”

Mom glanced at my face, put the final touches on my hair, and we both looked at him. His gaze flicked from her to me and back. “What?”

“Why are you worried about him? What’s going on?”

His lips firmed. “Are you poking around in my head?”

“No, you’re worried about him and it’s punching me right in the brain. I’m his friend too.”

That declaration earned a loud huff of expelled air from him. “Yeah, I know. Look, he’s stressed out. Has some personal stuff going on.”

“Oh.” Damian’s girlfriend, Serena, hadn’t come to the last group dinner we’d had a few weeks before. “She broke up with him?”

Schumacher propped his elbow on the chair’s arm and rested his chin in his hand. “It’s going that way. Or maybe has. He’s been gone for about an hour.”

“Damn. That sucks.” Nothing I could do to help in that area, other than be there if Damian wanted to talk about it. Except figure out how to clean up the Dalsarin mess so he wouldn’t have that hanging over him too.

“It didn’t help that he couldn’t offer any information about the symbols we found. Someone was doing something magical out there, not too far from where the dog fights were held.” Schumacher raised his eyebrows. “Can you tell me anything?”

“Our bad guy’s a dark elf, and he’s one freaky looking, scary dude.” The door of my hospital room swung open, and Alleryn stepped inside, staring at me.

“What did you say?”

“Eavesdropping is a bad habit.”

The elf waved my comment aside. “I was guarding the door. A dark elf?”

“Tall, yellow eyes, looks like a corpsicle. His name is Dalsarin.”

Alleryn yanked a cell phone out of his pocket. I lifted my hand, using my TK to pull it from his. It landed in my lap. “Who do you think you’re calling?”

“My prince. You people are in over your heads. We’ll handle the matter from here.” He strode over to grab the phone. I slapped my hand down over it.

Mom and Schumacher were looking from him to me and back. She spoke first. “Dr. Allan, what do you mean, ‘my prince’?”

I grinned. “Blew your cover.”

I deduced he dropped his glamour from their synchronized gasps. “Prince Thorandryll, my liege and commander. I’m going to call him if your daughter will release my phone.”

When I looked at Schumacher, he nodded. “Let him have it. His prince can talk to the captain and the mayor.”

Picking up the phone, I offered to it Alleryn but my mom grabbed it. “This Dal-whatever turned my daughter into a dog, shot her, nearly killed her little brother, and has killed a lot of people. Can your prince really do anything about him?”

“He will. It’s likely his fault Dalsarin came here.” With that, the elf plucked the phone from her hand and left the room.

We stared after him until Schumacher grunted. “Life used to be a lot simpler.”

“Tell me about it.” I only hoped it wouldn’t get more complicated, but had the feeling that hope was doomed.