Casually Cursed (14 page)

Bryn shook his head.

“You’d better be okay. That’s all I’m saying.”

Bryn pressed a kiss to the side of my head, but I noticed the way he held the rail tight to get down the steps. He was pretty weak. I thought about Kismet saying she’d shoot Poppy if she saw her again. I decided maybe I wouldn’t stop her. Poppy wasn’t my favorite Conclave member anymore.

*   *   *

WE WENT TO
a very nice hotel on the lake. The girl at the front desk was so sweet. Bryn pressed a credit card into my hand and wrote me a note to get three rooms. Normally Bryn takes care of things, but he looked pale and tired when he sat on a bench. And he was still having trouble talking.

I started to get three rooms, but Zach came up behind me and said in his low drawl, “One room. Strength in numbers.”

I grimaced, knowing Bryn wouldn’t want them in our room, but also knowing Zach was right. And it was only for a few hours. I got a suite with two big beds and a couch. My jaw dropped at the price, but I bit my lip and slid the card across the desk.

“May I see your ID? And can you sign your card, please?”

I pulled the card back to me and flipped it over. I walked to Bryn with a pen. “New card, huh? You forgot to sign the back.”

“Your card. You sign,” he said, then closed his eyes.

“My . . . ” I stared at him. He’d picked this moment to give me the card. A time when he was sick and probably knew I wouldn’t argue. Bryn’s real rich. And I’ve told him I don’t plan on spending his money. But we kind of disagree about that. He wants me to feel like we’re together in everything. Only he made all his millions before he met me, so that doesn’t exactly seem fair to me. And I don’t want people thinking I got together with him for his loot.

“Sneaky timing. You are such a lawyer sometimes,” I whispered in my own raspy voice. “We’re gonna have a fight about this later. Just so you know.”

Bryn gave me a thumbs-up, which struck me as absurd, so I laughed. He smiled, too, without opening his eyes. I went back to the desk and signed the back and showed my passport and driver’s license. The girl checked, and I was authorized to use the account, so she gave me keys with a smile.

I glanced up, right into Zach’s shrewd eyes.

“I’m not keeping this card. It’s just practical tonight.”

“I didn’t say a thing.”

“But you thought something.”

“If you’re gonna take his name, might as well take his money and anything else he’s got. What’s the difference?”

“Here’s a key,” I said, holding it out.

Zach shook his head and walked to the bench. “Lyons, can you stand or what?”

Bryn shrugged, but opened his eyes and put a hand on the arm of the bench and forced himself up. He stood, steady enough, and nodded.

“Lead the way,” Zach said to me. I noticed that he stayed close to Bryn, and I had to give Zach credit. A part of him would’ve liked to beat Bryn to a pulp for getting engaged to me. But another part of him was man enough to hold back that urge and even put our personal stuff aside while we were facing greater threats.

“I’m proud of you, Zach,” I said when we got into the room.

“If I were going to kill your asshole fiancé, do you think I’d let you see me do it?” he asked when Bryn was lying on his back on the bed. Bryn flipped his middle finger up. Presumably it was meant to be directed at Zach, but Zach had moved, so Bryn just flipped off the bathroom door. I didn’t tell him.

I got a cool washcloth and put it over Bryn’s brows and eyes. I knew to do it because my forehead ached and my eyes burned. When sweat popped up on the back of my neck, at least I knew our fever had broken.

Zach took a pack of cards from his bag, and he and Kismet played poker until Bryn’s breathing got easier and he fell asleep. Then Kismet ordered Zach to take the bed, since it was bigger, like him.

On his way to the bed, he stopped by her pack.

“Fancy arrows,” he said, peering inside. That made me walk over.

Kismet took out an arrow and handed it to him to examine.

“It’s oak with silver wrapping around it and an iron tip,” she said.

“What are these symbols?” Zach asked, pointing to the shallow carvings on the shaft near the tip.

“There’s a different type of poison painted in each mark. When the arrow enters, the poison mixes with the target’s blood and gets absorbed. These arrows will kill witches, banshees, vampires, fae, werewolves, and merrows. There is very little that it won’t kill. Only zombies and a few mostly dead creatures wouldn’t be felled by this type of arrow from my bow.”

She ran a finger along the silver. “My first foster da was a smithy. He made me one hundred of these assassin’s arrows. He gifted me the first ten when the queen sent me out on my first mission alone. He said, ‘In every battle to the death, may you be the survivor. These are for that . . . to protect your life. Be worthy of them, Kismet. Be deadly, lest you be the one lying dead.’”

She took the arrow and tucked it back into the quiver.

“He must love you a lot,” I said.

“No, but I think he’s proud of me now. Finally. As a little one I was a burden. Rebellious. He was paid to keep me, but even gold and magic weren’t payment enough early on. He tried to get rid of the responsibility. Eventually he did give me away to foster with another. I’ve laid my head many places.”

“He gave you away?” I asked, suddenly furious. “And what were you doing with him, anyway? Why didn’t you live with our dad?”

“The golden knight?” She clucked her tongue. “Not good enough for him. He didn’t claim me. Never has. Even now that I know who I am to him.”

My fists balled. How must Kismet have felt growing up? Unclaimed and unwanted? How could he do that to a little girl? His own flesh and blood!

“He wants only her. Our mother. No one else means anything to him. Except perhaps the queen. But even that is just duty, I think.” She shrugged. “I don’t care.”

Of course you do
, I thought. “Well, I do care. Shame on him. Shame on all of them.” I bit down on my lip to keep tears from welling up in my eyes. “You should’ve been with us,” I whispered fiercely.

She smiled. “I’ve heard tell of the bond between twins. It’s why I looked for you. So I wouldn’t be alone anymore. So I’d be half of two.”

I nodded. “Yep,” I said, squeezing her arm. “There are two of us now. For as long as we live.”

Her smile faded. “Those that hunt you should be wary. I don’t miss my target except by choice. And I’ll prize your life above any other.”

A shadow passed behind her eyes. I saw the savage child and the cold assassin. I recognized her. Many times when my fae nature had taken over, there had been a cool calculation to it. Its conscience had felt numb and unformed. I saw a glimpse of that remorseless nature in Kismet. She wouldn’t protect me out of love. She didn’t know me well enough yet to love me. What she knew was that she didn’t want to be alone. She would kill to keep the sister she wanted. I shivered, feeling I should explain to her that she’d understand about love eventually, but she walked away. She dropped onto the couch, fluffed the pillow beneath her head, and closed her eyes to sleep. The threats she made didn’t trouble her. Would they ever? I hoped so. It would be hard to keep her from killing people if she didn’t learn to care about them.

“What do you think, Merc?” I asked softly as he paced the room. I opened the balcony door. “Wanna go have a look around?”

Merc meowed but didn’t go out. That made me uneasy. Was he staying close because an outside threat was on its way . . . or did he sense trouble in our midst? Zach and Bryn could certainly end up at each other’s throats if they weren’t watched. The peace between them wasn’t easy by any means. But it was Kismet, willowy and slight on the couch, who worried me the most.

Still, she was my own sister. For better or worse, we were family forever. I bent and kissed her forehead.

Mercutio eyed me curiously.

“So you’re gonna stay here, huh?” I ran a hand through my hair. “Wake me then, if there’s trouble.”

Merc meowed that he would.

I sighed and lay down. I tried to stay awake, but I’d had so little sleep since leaving Duvall that I couldn’t.

I don’t know how long I was out before Merc’s yowl woke me and everyone in the room.

Bryn sat up, his damp hair flat on one side and pushed up on the other. His eyes were unnaturally bright as he looked around.

Mercutio meowed and padded back and forth near the door.

“What?” Zach demanded, putting a hand on his chest over the amulet under his T-shirt.

“You’re right, Mercutio. I feel it,” Bryn said. His voice had returned to normal strength, though it was still a bit hoarse. He glanced at Zach, then looked at me. “There are at least five wizards. They have the hotel surrounded.”

I WAS USED
to fighting with only Mercutio for company and often against terrible odds. Having a whole group to face the current trouble amazed me. I had a gun and some magic, albeit broken; Zach had a gun and his protective amulet; Bryn can wield his magic as a weapon; and Kismet had her bow and dagger and a wealth of experience.

We divided so that Zach went out the front, Kismet went out the back toward the lake, and Bryn and I took the west side.

The steady drizzle blew against us, drenching our clothes. It was dark enough that I didn’t spot Lundqvist, the weather wizard, when we approached him.

Bryn grabbed my arm, and I felt his magic gather and pulse. The blast of magic from Lundqvist seared my skin. It would blister, but the frigid wind and rain took away the burn’s bite. Despite his having just been down with fever and dehydration, Bryn’s magic was sharp and strong. He flung it at Lundqvist, who scowled and shouted curses and spells.

Bryn defended us with magic, putting up barriers, but the storm fueled Lundqvist, and eventually small cracks in the shield allowed the scalding magic to get through. He’d heated the rain so that it struck like boiling water popping from a pot.

I didn’t want to kill Lundqvist, but twice we’d escaped the Conclave operatives, only to have them chase us some more. What if they pursued us right to the Never? Or prevented us from getting inside?

Another bucketful of water without the bucket flew toward us. Bryn flung up an invisible wall of magic, and the water splashed against it, steam rising. Scattered droplets made it through to scald our skin.

Bryn shook his head. “He’s feeding off the storm, and I’m not at my strongest. We need cover.”

“Take power from me,” I said, grabbing his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Bryn’s mouth didn’t taste like him. I could still taste infection on his breath, which made me gag. He drew magic into him in a sharp intake and then spun to cast more spells. Under Lundqvist’s constant assault, we didn’t have much time to smooch so Bryn could draw power.

The flying rain’s temperature changed. Instead of heat, Lundqvist worked with the weather. Hail pelted us. One ball of ice struck my skull hard enough to raise a knot on my head.

“Damn it!” I yelled. I dived forward under the edge of Bryn’s barrier. Popping up onto one knee, I whipped out my gun and squeezed off two rounds.

Lundqvist yelled and went down. I’d shot in the middle of each thigh. I could tell by his screams that at least one, probably both bullets had broken through bone. He wouldn’t be chasing anyone for a while. Midthigh wounds don’t usually bleed too much, so hopefully they wouldn’t be fatal, no matter how long it took for help to reach him.

“In high winds and near dark, with water and hail making it almost impossible to see, you hit a moving target. Twice.” He shook his head. “They talk about training you, Tamara, but why would you need it?”

I smiled. Bryn is impressive, so I love when I impress him.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him in a wide arc so we could reach the back of the hotel without passing close to Lundqvist, who was casting spells with wild fury.

Bryn licked his lips as we hurried across the grass. “You’re a natural with a weapon. I wonder if that’s spillover.”

I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”

“I think you have some synergy with your sister. Her skills spill over into you.”

“Wonder if it’ll be the same for her. Imagine if she could make cherries jubilee or a chocolate mocha soufflé without ever reading a recipe. Now, those are skills to be proud of,” I said, and winked.

Bryn laughed, but the humor drained away when we spotted a figure down on the ground. She lay about thirty feet in front of half-crumbled rock ruins that edged the lake at the very back of the property.

I spotted Zach, sprinting across the grass. He skidded to a stop on his knees next to her. Bryn and I rushed to them.

Poppy writhed on the ground, mud covered, with an arrow sticking out of her chest just under the collarbone.

“Can’t breathe,” she said with a breathless gasp.

Zach grabbed the shaft of the arrow and tugged it gently.

Poppy screeched.

“Hang on, darlin’,” Zach said in a soothing voice. “This thing’s poison. It’s got to come out.” He looked up. “C’mere, Tammy Jo. Hold her arms.”

I knelt on the ground and grabbed Poppy’s hands. Looking at Bryn, I asked, “Can you do anything? To help ease her pain?”

Bryn glanced around. “We may need the magic I have left.”

“For Christ’s sake, Lyons!” Zach yelled.

Poppy was whimpering as Zach manipulated the arrow.

“Bryn, we have to help her,” I said.

“Healing’s not my area of expertise,” Bryn said with a grim expression, but he extended a hand and whispered a spell. Warm magic flowed over us, and Poppy seemed to struggle less.

“You can’t pull it out toward you. The barbed tip will tear her flesh and do even more damage,” I said. “You’ll have to push it out the back first and then cut off the tip.”

“Got some experience with arrows?” Zach asked, putting steady pressure on the shaft. Poppy gasped in pain.

“Unfortunately, yeah, I do.”

“Hold her,” Zach said. With one hand he raised her up and with the other he shoved the arrow through. She screamed as the tip pierced the skin and came out her back.

“Careful of that tip,” Bryn cautioned as I tried to break it off.

“Here,” Zach said, brushing my hand away. He pulled his magical amulet out from under his shirt. It blazed purple and gold, making me shield my eyes.

Zach held the end of the arrow and brought his knife down against the shaft. After a few moments it cracked. He unwound the silver on the end to get the tip off and then tossed the arrowhead aside.

“Almost there, baby girl. Hang on,” Zach whispered.

Poppy braced herself with a hand on the side of Zach’s chest.

With a sharp yank, he pulled the arrow out of her chest from the front.

She moaned and fell back to the ground. Zach bent his head and listened against her chest.

“I can’t tell if her lung’s deflated on the injured side,” Zach said.

“I feel cold,” she murmured, holding up a hand to block the rain from hitting her face. Blood stained her hand and ran down her arm.

Poppy looked at Zach and said, “You’re wounded.”

“Just a scratch.”

“Can’t help myself. Gar, wish I could. Bloody unfair. But can help you,” she said. Her lips had taken on a bluish-purple color that could only mean bad things.

“I’m all right. Conserve your strength,” Zach said.

“I can do it. Last act ought to be a good one,” she said through ragged breaths.

“Hang on. Your magic won’t—”

Poppy whispered a spell and the magic burst forth, but it hit the amulet. It sparked and reflected backward onto her. She howled as a blinding light lit the area for a moment, burning our eyes. I fell back, throwing an arm across my face. Finally the magic faded, and Poppy lay still with wide eyes and raised brows.

“I can breathe,” she said, surprised. She took a tentative breath, then a deeper one.

“Your spell reflected off his amulet back onto you. It healed your worst injuries,” I said.

She felt the wound in her chest. “Gar, that still hurts. But I don’t think I’m dying.”

“C’mon. Let’s get the wounded to the van. We can take them to the hospital,” Zach said, picking Poppy up.

“Leave them. Let the hotel call for aid and they can be transported by local emergency services. We need to go,” Bryn said.

They argued as I stood. “Where is Kismet?” I asked, looking around. I started toward the trees, but froze when I spotted a pair of glowing eyes. Two werewolves burst from the woods, the smaller one with an off-kilter gait, favoring one side, I realized. I sucked in a breath and raised my gun, but both wolves stopped several feet from me.

They snarled, but didn’t attack. My finger trembled against the trigger. I didn’t want to shoot unless it was necessary, but they weren’t very far from me. If they leapt, a bullet might not stop them in time.

My heart beat loudly in my ears. The larger dark brown wolf’s mouth closed. He raised his face and seemed to scent the air. Then he looked up in the direction of the ruins. His head and shoulders turned and he walked away. The other wolf watched the first for a moment but didn’t follow. He turned a circle and went back toward the trees, looking over his shoulder twice at me, as though he wanted me to follow.

I glanced back at my group. Poppy stood with Bryn and Zach. They were deep in discussion. I inched forward to the forest’s edge.

The wolf’s body was obscured by a tree when he shifted. A moment later he stepped forward with some scattered bushes between us. It was the man who’d been gravely injured in the Scottish woods.

I smiled when I saw him. “You made it.”

He nodded.

“I’m glad.”

“My family was as well,” he said in that rumbling accent. “She’s your sister? Or cousin?”

“Who?”

“The archer. The fae girl.”

I nodded. “We just met each other, but yes. She’s my family.”

“She’s done things. You don’t—”

A short howl made us both turn toward the ruins. I wasn’t sure what the structure had originally been. Some small primitive dwelling? The dark gray stone walls stood, but there was no roof anymore.

The dark brown wolf walked along the top toward—

I gasped.

Kismet lay on the wall, her hair and leg dangling over the blocks of stone. My breath caught, coming to an abrupt halt.

My feet understood before my mind, because even as I wondered whether she was dead, my legs carried me to the wall. He howled, and I opened my mouth to scream, but he didn’t pounce on her.

She’d been still as a statue, but in an instant her arms came up and a nocked arrow pointed at the wolf’s neck.

He reared up and transformed, shifting from animal to man within a haze of shadow. He threw his arms wide, his chest exposed.

“Go ahead,” he growled, his voice guttural, as if the animal still reigned in his throat.

Her arms were as steady as oak branches on a still day. Water pelted her skin and dripped from her, running in rivulets down the stone.

“Don’t cower from it. Kill me outright,” he yelled, his voice as powerful as the storm.

Her lips curved. “If it’s death you’re after, come and get it.”

He crouched, and my breath caught again.

Zach raised his gun and Bryn a hand, but no one moved except the young man. His shoulder-length hair fell forward as he leaned over her. The tip of her arrow pressed against his chest as he spoke to her. He’d lowered his voice, so we couldn’t hear what he said.

Her eyes never left his face. “Then run,” she said, her voice cool as the drizzling rain.

He pushed the bow aside and lowered his head farther. I thought he would kiss her. That’s what it seemed he would do . . . bring their bodies together. But his nose pressed against the fabric of her shirt and nuzzled her skin. When he lifted his face, darkness stained it.

Blood!

“She’s hurt! Bryn!” I called, running to the ruins.

The walls were slick. I tried to climb, but slipped and landed hard on the ground, my knees thumping and sinking into muddy earth.

I yanked off my shoes and dug my fingers and toes into the cracks. I fell a second time before I managed to scale the wall. The wolf man turned. He was tall, well over six feet. His eyes scanned my face; then he turned and stepped off the wall. He dropped with almost no sound into the wreck of an enclosure. I glanced down. He shifted into a wolf and bolted out.

I crawled to her. “Kis, how bad are you hurt?”

“Bad enough,” she said, tilting her face to the sky and closing her eyes against the falling rain.

I crawled forward as the wolf had done. I lifted her shirt and gasped. There was a jagged gash where the skin had been torn open. I could see a marble-white rib between lines of muscle.

“Oh, my God! Oh, no!”

“Go away,” she said, giving my shoulder a shove.

“We’ll get you down.” I turned and yelled to Bryn and Zach, “She’s badly hurt. I’m going to help her slide over the edge. Zach, you have to catch her. Bryn, use your magic to slow her fall. Get ready!” I said. Each of her legs dangled on a different side of the wall. I grabbed the one hanging down the inner wall and lifted it. She kicked me. Not hard, but I was so startled I fell backward, nearly toppling off the wall.

“I said leave me alone,” she snapped.

I sat up, holding the slick stones to steady myself.

“What are you talking about? I’m not leaving you. I have to help you get down so we can take you to the hospital.”

“I don’t need your help, which is a lucky thing for me.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, leaning toward her. “Why are you acting like this?”

“While I lay here bleeding, you tended the witch who gave me my wounds. You walked away with a wolf to the woods.”

“I didn’t know you were hurt.”

“Exactly.”

“You could have called out. I didn’t see you.”

“You didn’t try to. After all the times I reached for you across the miles and helped you tap fae power to heal. After the times when your magic was drained away, leaving you empty and I filled you with half my spirit. Could you not seek to help me first just once?”

She held her side and sat up. We faced each other. “You’re no different than the rest of them.” She swung her leg over so she faced the inside of the enclosure. She looked back at my face for a moment, then said, “If I’m nothing special to you, then you’re nothing special to me either.”

I opened my mouth, but she slid off the wall and dropped down. She landed on the mud with a grunt of pain.

“Kismet, wait!” I said, but she strode to her wet pack, which lay in the corner. She grabbed it and climbed out of the ruins. “Kis!”

She didn’t answer or even look back.