Love Is in the Air (28 page)

With Tyr pressed so closely to her, it wasn’t difficult to project love.

Whatever the fear stirred up by this cauldron of fire, it could wait until later.

They took to the hall, walking through what should have been a wall of flame, only they traveled unscathed. Sal could feel the blasting heat all around her, yet her skin wasn’t scorched.

Frustrated, the fire roiled around them, trying to find a way past Tyr’s blood shield. Licks of flame danced at their feet, hoping to trip them. Despite the primordial terror that gripped her belly, Sal took care to project only a calm, loving demeanor. Tendrils of fire snaked into any tiny crack between their bodies, yet she held fast.

Their lives depended on it.

Tyr’s leg nearly gave out on the stairs, slowing their progress. The conflagration seemed to sense his weakness. The fire pressed in closer, mocking her efforts.

Sal began to sweat. Not so much from the mystical flame, but from the effort of supporting Tyr. They had barely made it down one flight of stairs, how were they going to climb down another?

Worse, when she reached out to open the door to the next stairwell, it was locked.

“Open!” but the damn thing was metal. Even Tyr tried, but in his weakened state, the door refused to budge.

She looked down the long, enflamed hallway. It was so long. And so enflamed. Sal silently sought Tyr’s advice. Tight-lipped, he nodded. It was also their only choice. She helped him hobble down the lengthy passage. Sal tried to ignore the hideous sights as they passed by the torture chambers. The waxen figures melted where they stood. The manufactured horror had become real. Eyes liquefied, running down dripping cheeks. Bodies molded with their torture devices, becoming one.

If they didn’t get the hell out of there soon, very, very soon, that would be them, melting into the concrete.

CHAPTER 97

Finally, they were to the far stairwell. Tyr more slipped down the steps than walked, but they made it to the first floor.

A pop within the fire sent a small ember into the air that struck her cheek. It burned for a millisecond, then disappeared. But the flame, in only this small way, had gotten through. Emboldened, the air warped around them as the temperature skyrocketed.

It might not be able to roast them, but the fire could consume the oxygen they needed to breathe. Her lungs complained as the air became thin.

Ignoring her brain’s frantic call for oxygen, Sal thought of her most powerful memories of Tyr. The first time he had ever touched, but not touched her. On the bank of the lake when he struggled to ask for her help. Him sailing over her on horseback, knocking that bastard Crusader on his ass.

Yet the fire was winning. Had she failed yet again?

Then she realized it was not her failing, but Tyr. His head had slumped against her shoulder. He was barely conscious. Without his skill to bind her intent to the blood, their protection was waning. Waning rapidly.

There was no way they could make it all the way to the exit, as another ember landed on her skirt, smoldering a hole down to her knee.

Wait. The main entrance wasn’t the only way out. Sal searched the walls. Sure enough, a charcoaled sign announced the “Inter-facility Tunnel System.” Hauling Tyr’s near-dead weight, she reached for the handle.

The fire knew her intent and heated the metal until it glowed red-hot.

Not allowing anger to get the best of her, she thought of adorable little puppies, a newborn baby, and ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream. The knob under her palm cooled, if but a fraction.

Sal knew the knob was metal. She knew that the tension strength of the material was far higher than she should ever hope to control, but the flames were not content with just licking at them any longer. They flared and sparked, eager to have their revenge.

Asking not for herself, or for her life, but for Tyr, Sal breathed the word softly, carefully, kindly, “Open.”

With no resistance whatsoever, the metal turned under her hand. Any calm she felt evaporated as she dragged Tyr’s heavy frame through the door.

They tumbled down the damp stairs, fire on their tail. Sal let Tyr fall to the floor. She could carry him no farther.

“Back,” Sal commanded, her panic barely contained.

The air crackled its aggravation. Sparks danced before her, trying to breach that last thin layer of protection. Damn it. She couldn’t use fear or anger. Those emotions only fueled the fire she had begun. Unfortunately those were the only emotions she had left.

The flames encircled her, whipping around her. Testing the magic.

Was desperation a viable emotion?

“Please,” she begged, tears dripping from her eyelashes. “Leave us.”

It seemed as if the wind changed, despite the fact there wasn’t any breeze in the underground tunnel. The inferno rolled back upon itself, climbing the stairs. Knowing that fire was nothing but fickle, Sal charged after it and slammed the door shut.

As if just made aware that its revenge was thwarted, she felt the flames blast against the door. The metal heated, but held.

Sal rushed to Tyr’s side. His face was ashen and his skin pasty. She checked his pulse. It raced like a hummingbird’s.

Severe shock. Life-threatening shock.

CHAPTER 98

Sal pulled Tyr’s coat away from his right side. His flesh had become nothing more than a molten smear of pink. As gently as she could, Sal probed the tip of the wound.

Tyr roused. At least that meant the area still had functional nerve endings. It also looked like there was a good blood supply. Some fluids, antibiotics, and debridement of the damaged tissue, and they wouldn’t need HeartsBlood to heal him.

“Fret no more,” he said feebly.

She pushed away the hand that tried to keep her from examining the lower section of the burn. His pants had melted onto his leg. Leather and skin had become one. The smell of charred flesh threatened to upend her stomach. Sal refused to vomit. She’d seen bad burns before. She’d treated horrible burns before.

But as she picked away the flakes of burnt clothes, she found something she’d never seen before. Beneath the layer of scorched leather, she could find no flesh. Sal took off three layers of char only to find more layers of char.

This wasn’t a second-degree or even a third-degree burn. It was a tenth degree burn. It was like the time she’d forgotten a steak in the broiler for over an hour. The meat had gone from well done to burnt to charcoal. Just like Tyr’s flesh.

Horrified, Sal looked up, but he seemed to already know the extent of the damage.

“There is a last prayer of my people…”

“No!” she exclaimed. “No,” she said again, this time more measured.

Sal refused to give up. His heart was still beating.

But inside, she cringed. While that was her normal mantra, there was one condition where she had to counsel her students not to hold out hope.

Extensive third-degree burns.

The body simply couldn’t cope with that much damage. While medicine had advanced greatly over the centuries, burns still exceeded their ability to heal. And these burns?

“No,” she moaned, tears spilling over, falling on the charred tissue.

Tyr reached a hand out and wiped her cheek. “Even a witch of your skill could heal not a blaze of intent.”

Sal hung her head. It had been her hatred that would kill him.

“Before…” Tyr had to stop and lick his lips before he continued. “Before the pain becomes too great, let me teach you the prayer. It must be spoken at the moment of my parting.”

His words washed over her, but Sal didn’t really hear them. She was still immersed in her grief.

“If intent caused the injuries,” Sal spoke her thought process out loud, “could intent not heal them?”

Tyr shook his head. “Without HeartsBlood, I am done.”

“Damn it! Why did you use the last of it on me?”

He cradled her cheek in his hand. “It would not have been enough. Please allow me to teach you—”

“No,” she said forcefully, pulling his hand away. “Think. If we just need more HeartsBlood, let’s figure out how to get more HeartsBlood.”

“The heart holds its blood dear. Only one highly skilled in the art of drawing may attempt such a feat, and even then… many do not survive.”

Of course they didn’t. No matter how tough the heart seemed, it was actually quite a fragile organ. The heart was a tissue like any other in the body. It needed oxygen and nutrients to fuel its constant pumping. And since it worked harder than any other organ in the body, it was highly sensitive to any interruption in its circulation. Although bathed in the blood that it pumped through the body, the muscle took no nutrients from it.

As any heart attack victim soon realized, the organ had its own set of blood vessels that fed the pump. Something as tiny as cholesterol plaques could block the oxygen supply to the muscle, and once that happened, the tissue died and the pump that kept the rest of the body alive stopped. Now imagine sticking a needle into that frail organ. It didn’t mind you drawing blood from its chambers, but lancing one of its vital blood vessels?

You might as well slit both carotid arteries. It was as sure a death.

“I can do it.”

“The skill required—”

Sal felt resolve strengthen her words. “I do it for a living, Tyr.” He tried to interrupt, but she overrode him. “I’ve done dozens of cardiac sticks.” Granted, it was to pump adrenaline into the heart, but still, she’d done it and never hit a major vessel.

He sighed long and hard before he spoke. “Of that I have no doubt, but to distill the essence. To tamper with the very—”

She had an idea about that as well, but the thought was still percolating in her subconscious. Right now, she just needed to get the HeartsBlood.

“What choice do we have?” She asked.

Tyr had no answer.

Sal fished the first-aid kit out of her pocket and pulled out a syringe.

Despite an effort that flushed his cheeks, Tyr backed away from the needle. Instead of fighting, she brought her lips to his ear as he had done so many times to her.

Using the softest of whispers, Sal asked, “We are bound, are we not?”

CHAPTER 99

Sal backed away just enough so that they could look into each other’s eyes. His gaze flickered over her features. His answer came in the form of tilting his head to one side. She lowered hers to the other. In nearly slow motion, they closed the gap between their lips.

At first their touch was tentative, neither sure the other had truly committed, but once their warmth mingled, there was nothing hesitant about the kiss. With more strength than he should have had, Tyr’s hand pulled her even closer. Her lips parted as his tongue found hers.

There was nothing else in the world. Not the roar of the fire just above, or the constant dripping of water from the moss-lined ceiling. There was just the kiss. Their shared breath. Their shared desire.

What should have been a magical eternity drew Sal sharply into the reality of the moment. For as warm as his mouth was, she could feel his thready pulse beneath her fingers. He was dying.

Never pulling their lips from one another, Sal counted the intercostal spaces with her left hand as she readied the syringe with her right. She could feel his heart beating just beneath the surface, trying to fight on while his body shut down.

How she wished that she had an ultrasound machine. Hell, she’d be content with a sterile swab, but she didn’t have time for any of that.

Weakening, Tyr’s hand fell from her head.

She kissed his lips one last time. “This is going to hurt.”

As Sal plunged the needle across his chest and into his heart, Tyr gasped, his eyelids fluttering open, his lips bled of their color.

Sal could feel the beat of his heart reverberating through the needle. She couldn’t hold it firmly or she’d cut the muscle. Slowly, she drew the bright red blood from his ventricle. Once the syringe was filled to capacity, she whipped the needle out.

Another pained gasp.

Putting pressure against the small hole she had created, Sal whispered, “It’s going to be okay. The pain will pass. Just breathe…”

Finally, Tyr’s chest stopped heaving. Unfortunately, once his breaths started again, they were shallow. She was losing him.

“You have my HeartsBlood, witch,” Tyr slurred. “But what will you do with it?”

That was a very good question.

CHAPTER 100

Tyr’s eyelids flagged as he laid his head against the damp concrete floor. The syringe with his still-warm HeartsBlood lay in Sal’s hand. If she had gambled incorrectly, she had just sapped him of the last of his energy. But she wasn’t wrong. Not this time. A theory had been brewing in the back of her mind. Her conscious mind had been asking many questions, and her subconscious had been trying to respond, but she’d been too busy starting fires of intent to listen. The full answer still hadn’t surfaced, but Sal knew enough to make some conjecture.

How could she, and apparently the Crusader, pick up edicts so quickly, when clearly in Tyr’s time, it took years to manipulate essence that skillfully?

This question dovetailed right into why the beast had come to this time. Why this year? This week?

The answer to all of the queries centered on Lionel’s experiment. Clearly, the beast focused on the technical basis of intent and essence. Sal and the Crusader both had advanced scientific training. Once they became aware of the principles of the inner workings of electrons and plasma, they could hone their intent. Understanding the molecular basis for edicts gave them far finer control over their intent.

At least that’s what Sal counted on. Gambled Tyr’s life on. Focusing on the HeartsBlood in the syringe, she thought of the red cells carrying oxygen. She thought of the white cells ready to fight infections. She thought of the chemotactic factors that would be released to call even more healing cells to the area. She thought of those things and even more as she pulled back Tyr’s coat to expose the charred leg.

Sal steadied her hand. She would not waste another drop. Pushing on the plunger, she allowed a full bead of blood to form at the tip of the needle. Skillfully, she laid that drop upon the edge of the wound. But Sal didn’t stop there. As she carefully spread the fluid out, maximizing the area it could heal, Sal spoke to the wound.