More Than Magic (32 page)

“Me,” she said.

“You,” he repeated.

Her fingers went to his mouth and covered it.

“Me.” She looked a bit less pale and more like she was going to smile. “I
healed
you, Nick.” She said it as if she was talking about the weather or something. But she was watching him—tension in every muscle—like some creature caught in his headlights and ready to bolt.

“Not surgery,” he mumbled around her hand.

She moved it to stroke his arm, then smiled, as if he were a toddler asking why the sky was blue.

“No. Like Granny Lily healed the whooping cough,” she said. “Magic, not medicine.”

For a long moment he stared at her sitting there with all that red hair undone and curling around her shoulders, knowing this wasn’t real. He had awakened with Grace beside him in bed and his jeans unbuttoned. And she was talking about healing him with magic.

Right. That would happen. No, he was actually in a hospital bed under some
really
good anesthetic.

“So, if I
am
dreaming, I can do this.” He slid his fingers into her hair and leaned forward to capture her mouth.

She tasted like sweet starlight, just as he remembered. For a moment, she kissed him back, sliding her hand around his neck and opening her lips, quivering under his touch. She broke loose with a gasp, her hand flying up to her mouth as she sat back on her heels.

Nick knew then that he wasn’t dreaming. In his dreams, she wouldn’t pull away from him. So, this was real. And if this was real—

He groped for his gun in his empty holster. “The Taggarts?”

She grasped his hand. “It’s okay. The entrance is blocked. They can’t get in that way and we’re pretty well hidden back here.”

“Oh.” He relaxed, feeling a bit dizzy. “Sorry. I— Sorry about—” he stammered at first, then gave up. “Sorry.”

“No. It’s—” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I know it’s confusing and a bit—frightening at first.”

He looked down at his stomach again in disbelief then thought back to the night before under the stars.

“Someone lived.”

Grace’s hands on his chest as he closed his hands around hers.

Nothing left but light—gold and shimmering behind his eyelids.

Nothing left of the blackness.

Nothing left but Grace standing in the meadow, throwing up.

“The lymphoma,” he said and looked up. “It’s gone too.”

She nodded.

“Last night. I knew something happened. You can do that?”

“Apparently,” she said with a small smile.

So, redheaded witches just reached in and—fixed things.

Redheaded witches dressed in nothing but an unbuttoned flannel shirt and some kind of silky long johns—form fitting and almost transparent long johns. He squinted at her, and she glanced down at herself as if just realizing she was undressed.

“They were wet and muddy,” she said, standing up to grab her jeans from a nearby rock and yank them on.

Nick pulled up his clothes to examine his stomach again, unable to help himself. “Is the bullet still in there?” It sounded really stupid when it came out of his mouth, but he had to ask.

“No,” she replied.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes. Wait a second.” She fished in her jeans pocket and pulled out the slug, handing it to him. Then she found her boots on the floor, and sat to pull them on and lace them up. “I’m a
doctor
. The doctor says you need to get checked out thoroughly to make sure there’s no damage. But the—the—”

“Healer?”

She tilted her head sideways at him, looking bemused. “Yes. The healer,” she repeated. “The healer says there is
no
damage. You’re fine.”

Nick was pretty sure himself. He didn’t even feel a twinge anywhere. Grace had healed him. She had given him his life back—twice.

He was going to live. He would see Alison and his mom again. He would watch his nephew grow up. He would kiss Grace—again and again if she would let him. He grinned up at her and wondered why she looked so solemn.

“Thank you,” he said, then gave half a laugh. “That sounds inadequate, somehow.”

The thoughtful look melted into something softer. “Not at all. ‘Thank you’ is fine.”

“So, where are we—” He looked around, remembering a wall of shelves. “Are we somewhere behind those shelves?”

“Yes. Hopefully the county mounties are on their way and Search and Rescue may not be far behind.” She fished his gun out from under a folded blanket and stood, stuffing it by the small of her back. “I need to go check and see if they’ve shown up. They may be working on digging us out of here right now.” She put on the headlamp he had mistaken for a halo and walked toward a rock wall.

“You are going to stay put and rest.” It wasn’t a request. Then she disappeared through an opening behind the wall.

“Grace?” Nick scrambled to his feet, then leaned against the rock as the world shifted slightly around him.
Dig us out?

Nick was back to thinking he was dreaming until he looked around. He couldn’t have dreamed that makeshift bed made of bright colored wool blankets or Grace undressing him or the candle that seemed to be the only light in this place. And he sure wouldn’t have dreamed waking up in yet
another
cave—certainly not
buried
in one.

Where the hell was he? Why the hell was he still alive? Where the hell were his shoes?

Grace fumbled with the door that led into the lab, realizing her hands were shaking. She hadn’t really thought past getting to Nick in time and healing him. She hadn’t thought about how to explain it to him or how he would react. She hadn’t thought about how hard it would be to hear his voice or be the focus of that silvery gaze.

She hadn’t thought about dealing with his Tink-like obsession with her, and her own rebellious desires, in such a confined space.

But she would—as long as he didn’t kiss her again. Not when she wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him back and run her fingers through his hair and whisper his name and crawl inside him—and never let him go.

The hidden door in the shelves squeaked open and she listened for a moment. Nothing. The silence out there was almost ominous. Had it snowed so hard and so deep that their rescue couldn’t get up the mountain? Had the cave disappeared from view again as Annie said it might? She walked as close as she could without climbing up into the rocks and listened intently.

Nothing at all. Maybe she just couldn’t hear them.

What if something had happened to Jamie?

Her mind filled with all manner of horrible scenarios—Jamie hurt in the snow, Jamie in the hands of the Taggarts, Jamie… She would never forgive herself. She should’ve made Jamie go into the cellar of the house and lock herself in there with Pooka.

What had she been thinking?

Jamie is fine. Jamie is a smart kid. She’s tough, like you. Daniel’s vision said nothing about Jamie.

Grace stared at the rocks and hugged herself.

Nick’s mellow voice startled her. “
This
place I recognize.”

She spun around, startled. “I told you to rest.”

He was standing at the hidden door tucking in his sweater. “Look, I’m still dealing with this whole ‘not dead’ thing.” He poked a finger into the hole in his vest for emphasis. “You don’t walk out and leave someone in a cave with a single candle burning—” He stopped, staring at the rubble in the cave opening. “Whoa. That old bitch. She really did it, didn’t she? She plugged it up.”

“Yes, she did,” Grace said. “And I’m sorry about leaving you in there, but you do need to take it easy—”

“I feel fine. I feel—fantastic. But I want to hear the whole ‘why I’m not dead’ thing again.”

“I-I know it’s confusing and I have a
lot
to explain, but look, we need to talk about Jamie right now.”

“What
about
Jamie? Where is she?” Nick was all business—Nick McKenzie, DEA agent.

“I sent her to the Carters, down past her house on the main road, with Pooka. I knew she’d be safe down there and that they could get to the county sheriff.” She took a deep breath. “I hope I did the right thing.”

“Only thing you could do, other than getting in your truck and heading down there
with her
, which I would’ve preferred.” He paused and looked down at his blood-stained vest. “But I guess I should be glad you didn’t do that, all things considered. So, this was how long ago?”

Grace looked at her watch. “About three and half hours.”

Nick did exactly what she had done, stepping close to the collapsed rocks and listening intently.

“Pretty damn quiet out there.”

“The road could be blocked. Or they could be out there trying to find us right now. If the Taggarts don’t tell them where we are—”

“They’ll search, and keep searching,” Nick reassured her.

“This place is a bit hard to find.” She watched his expression change as he remembered.

“It really
disappears
?”

“In a manner of speaking,” she replied. “But you’re right. They
might
find Boyd.”
If he’s not too close to the ginseng bed.

“Boyd?” Nick frowned. “Where is he?”

“Dead.”

“You—
You
were the one out there keeping them busy while I was crawling in here,” he said. “You shot Boyd? Did you get Annie and Mitch too?”

“I may have winged Boyd, but the paint—the mountain lion finished the job,” she said. “I just stung Annie a bit and I think you winged Mitch.”

“The big cat got Boyd?
Your
big cat?” Nick frowned. “I thought you were pulling my leg.”

“Only with the bear and wild boar part.”

“Okay, so how the hell did you get in here? Were you hiding back there?” He pointed to the shelves.

“No, I wasn’t hiding. I—I came in a secret entrance.”
An entrance you might not be able to use.

“So, we can go
out
that way then, and use my sat phone—” He felt around and under his vest, then realized he wasn’t wearing his jacket.

“Your phone!” Grace was thrilled. “I forgot about it. Here I was thinking we’d have to get down off the mountain in the snow. It’s in your jacket?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“I can make a call from anywhere if I can see the sky, right?”

“Pretty much. Unless the cloud cover’s too thick.”

Grace’s heart fell. “Well, we’ll just have to hope it isn’t. There’s a spot just a bit north of the ginseng bed with a clear view.”

“Let’s go.” He motioned her ahead of him.

“Nick, wait. First I have to explain something about the way I got in.”

“Let’s talk on the way,” Nick said impatiently.

That’s the problem. If we try to do this together, I have no idea how the mountain will react to you. You’re not even a Woodruff. We may end up going in circles.
“Here. You may need this.” She handed him back his gun, along with the extra clip she had tucked into her jacket. “It was a bit easier to tote around than the shotgun.”

He slipped it back in its holster under his vest as they went back through the shelves and on through the office into the cavern.

Grace knelt down and pulled their jackets out of the pile of blankets, handing Nick his, then studied the backpack’s contents.

She didn’t want to leave him here alone. If the mountain sent them in circles she would deal with it then. She took off her headlamp and replaced the batteries. Pulling a small daypack out of the backpack, she crammed in the first-aid kit, the instant heat packs, water bottles, a handful of energy bars, glow sticks, and the extra flashlight. She stood, holding out the crank flashlight for him.

“Good. I thought you were going to walk off and leave me in the dark again. And me still dealing with—”

“The whole ‘not dead thing’. I know.” She waved the flashlight at him and he grabbed both it and the pack. Grace sighed. “Men.”

“What else do we need?” He shrugged into his jacket and scooped up the shotgun.
 

“I sincerely hope we won’t need
that
. If things work out, we can make a call to check on Jamie, contact the sheriff, and head for home. But if things don’t work out, we’ll be back here pretty quick.”

Nick’s smile was grim as he checked the shotgun and slung it over his shoulder. “Better safe than sorry.”

Grace looked around the cave and spotted a glint of silver in the blankets. She felt a chill and her stomach clenched. “I almost forgot.”

“What?” Nick glared at the blankets as if he expected a snake to slither out.
 

“Pops’s walking stick.” She bent and untangled it from the blankets, hugging it to her. “You found it. How could I forget?”

“That’s yours?” Nick looked from her face to the walking stick.

She pointed to the four sets of initials carved down one curving twist of the stick beneath the silver top. The last set was LMW.