Spell-Weaver (7 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Dyami was talking to his wolf. Well, not talking actually. Wolves didn't talk, not in English anyway. He couldn't explain it. It was a conversation that only he could understand and it went something like this.

“I'm dying.”

“Yes.”
His wolf had given up the fight with the poison and now lay on its side, facing Dyami, who lay in the same position. A mirror image—one wolf, one man. Breathing shallow, pain excruciating, felt by both, flowing through their invisible connection.

“She was the one.”

“Our Huntress. Afraid.”
His wolf snorted, winced, fangs bared as the poison slowly worked up its body, green tendrils eating away at him. Dyami was next, he knew. Luckily, when his wolf died, so would he.

“I tried to help her understand.”

“Without her, we are lost.”

Dyami closed his eyes, straining against the weakness, trying to fight, wanting to see Summer one last time. And then he felt it, and knew he'd been wrong. The poison wasn't going to consume his wolf first. It licked at him now, curling around his leg, eating through his skin like acid. It burned. He cried out, opened his eyes to stare into those of his wolf.

“Now, it is better not to fight,”
those eyes said.
“Now it is better to die silently, with dignity.”

Back bowed, fists clenched, muscles spasming, Dyami kicked, tried to unlatch the poison.
No!
But it burned through him anyway, slithering up his leg, tearing from him a moan that bordered on a scream.

Slowly, so blisteringly slowly, would he die. The poison creeping, like it was sentient—like it wanted to inflict the most pain it could. Dyami tried to scramble away, but his wolf had no energy to move and he was tethered there with the animal. If only Summer knew. Her power alone could rid him of this torture.

As if he'd willed it to happen, what felt like a cascade of water rushed over him, coating this body, seeking out the poison.
Aubrey.
Her magic was a balm on his skin, not as powerful as Summer's, but enough to give him strength. He snapped his gaze to meet those of his wolf. The beast felt it too. Where there had only been defeat, now was a sparkle of hope.

Aubrey's magic was pulling him back.

“Keep fighting. It's not over yet.”

“He's coming around.”

Dyami squinted, his eyes sore, his body still weak, pain everywhere. “Summer?” he croaked, unable to crane his head and look around.

“She's here.” Aubrey was next to him, nodding to her left. “Dy, you took another hit. Do you remember?”

“There was a Huntress.” He reached up a hand, felt a flood of relief when Summer's delicate fingers intertwined with his. He tugged her toward him, her knees suddenly next to his head. He glanced up at her, offered her a weak smile. She looked shell-shocked, exhausted, but whole and healthy.

“Whoever she was, the Huntress is gone now.” Darcy came into his line of view, hovering over Summer. “Which is a little more than odd, don't ya think?”

“That she ran?” Aubrey shook her head. “Three wolves and two Huntresses against one. Nope, I'd run too. I wonder how the Order will welcome her though.”

“Excuse me.” Summer's voice was soft, uncertain. “I don't know…I mean…could someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Darcy chuckled. Aubrey smiled. Both women shifted so that they were next to their mates. Two wolves with golden eyes, Raven and Jay. Mayhem was at Dyami's side, his muzzle pressed to his arm, reassurance with a touch.

“Where to begin…” Darcy lowered a hand to Raven's head.

“There are wolves in this room. How about starting there? Or maybe with the strange powers I seem to have developed over the past twenty-four hours.” Summer's voice rose with each sentence as she found her confidence, her fire. “The fact that my boyfriend, Vic”—her voice caught—“turned out to be some psycho with a gun who kidnapped us.”

“I know it seems crazy,” Aubrey started.

“Ya think?” Summer let go of Dyami's hand, stood, indecision crossing her face. “I think I need to leave. Check myself into a mental hospital. None of this can be real. Right?” She looked from Aubrey to Darcy, avoiding Dy altogether. “Right?”

“Summer,” Dyami croaked. Despite his pain, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, struggling to stay there. “Don't leave.”

She snapped her eyes to him. “Why the fuck not? Do you have any idea how messed up this is? I can't even begin to understand what's going on. And we all know it's not like I can tell anyone about this and have them believe me, or better yet avoid being locked up in a loony bin.”

“There are things in this world that are not as they seem, but everything can be explained. All we ask is for you to be a little open-minded,” Aubrey said.

Summer narrowed her eyes as she shifted her gaze back to Aubrey. “A little open-minded? Let's be serious here.”

“Trust your gut, Summer,” Dyami said. “What is it telling you?”

Without looking at him, she shook her head. “I don't know.”

“Yes you do. You want answers? Darcy and Aubrey, they've been through what you're going through. Kind of.”

“I think I need to leave,” she said as she turned her back, walked to the hotel door. The large window was now repaired and the room put back to rights, thanks to Darcy's magic.

Dyami opened his mouth to tell her to stop, but Aubrey beat him to it. “If you leave, Dyami will die. Simple as that.”

Summer stopped, her hand on the doorknob, shoulders hunched.

Dyami sucked in a deep breath, eyes never straying from Summer's back. Pleading silently for her to give him a chance. She was his salvation in more ways than one. She was also on the razor's edge of losing it completely and he didn't want to push.

“That power you have—if you set aside your fear, if you believe just a little, you can use it to save Dyami's life.” Darcy's voice was low, almost a whisper. “As his friend, as his pack-sister, I'm begging you to stay and help him. Then you can leave if you want.”

Dyami snapped his gaze to her, frowning as his heart felt like it had shred in two. Darcy motioned for him to keep calm. As if she had this all under control.

Summer sucked in a deep breath. Let it out slowly as she let go of the knob and turned around. “I don't really understand how my power works.”

“We're still trying to figure things out ourselves,” Aubrey said with a shrug. “It helps if you just let it happen. Trust your gut, as Dy said.”

Summer nodded with an air of resignation. She moved to Dyami and knelt down again. He eased himself onto his back, the little energy he used to hold himself upright leaving him in a whoosh.

“I don't see how…” Summer started to say.

“That's not trusting your gut,” Darcy said with a wink.

“I felt the residue of your magic in him earlier. You've helped him before. Whatever you did that time worked,” Aubrey said. “My magic can only do so much. It's his own Huntress that he needs. You, your spells, your power.”

Summer's eyes grew wide with surprise. “How did you…oh, never mind.” She looked down at Dy, her expression conflicted, unsure. “Did it help the last time? When I touched your head? I was so tired…I barely remember.”

Dyami swallowed a lump, his wolf scratching and scraping at awareness. “Yes, you have no idea how much.”

Biting her lip, nodding slowly, Summer seemed to accept his words. “Okay then.”

She shifted closer, laid her hands down on his forehead, closed her eyes and began to draw.

Chapter Fourteen

The last time she saw Dyami, he'd been a wolf.

Yep, that's right, a motherfucking wolf.
She tried not to think about it much. Okay, she thought about it all the damn time. Who was she trying to kid? She was obsessed with drawing wolves, capturing the transformation on paper. It was maddening, mainly because seeing it once hadn't given her enough reference to draw it accurately.

As if she wanted to see it again…who would wish that?

She crumpled up another sheet of paper and tossed it into the garbage, then hunched over her drawing table again. She was at the shop, in between clients, drawing wolves and hating herself for it. What had happened at the hotel had been insanity. Barely believable. Definitely not explainable. If she'd been withdrawn before the whole kidnapping, wolf/hunter battle, she was a million times more so now. She came to work, inked some butterflies, infinity symbols galore, and then went home again. Not speaking more than she had to. Which unfortunately meant she was trapped in her own brain all damn day—and night—when she dreamed about Dyami.

Erotic, wet, wild dreams about him. Licking, stroking, sucking, mounting. All of it making her wake up with need, touch herself for release, and then still feel like it wasn't enough. It was like she'd tasted an addictive substance and wanted more, more, more.

She never should have touched him. That had been a mistake right from the beginning.

Even laying her hands on him that last time had been a mistake. She'd felt the poison like a fire consuming him. She'd saved his life, she knew. Symbols had floated into her brain and she'd drawn them onto his skin. It had drained her almost to the point of collapse, but she'd kept at it until she hadn't felt the poison any more. And then, when she pulled her hands away and opened her eyes, Dyami disappeared and a dazzling light danced in his place, blinding her. She'd stumbled back, falling onto her ass, looking at where he'd been only to discover that she was staring into the eyes of another wolf. She had to admit it was a beautiful creature, with light colored fur, the color of Dyami's hair, eyes to match. But a wolf nonetheless. It was just too much.

She'd bolted. A scream trapped in her throat, tears escaping her eyes. She'd run and hadn't looked back. Nor had anyone chased her. Somehow she found her way home. And then she vowed to forget it all. Chalk it up to momentary insanity and erase it from her mind.

Which she'd managed to do for about twenty minutes.

Speaking of addictions…

It didn't help matters that the symbols kept coming, popping into her thoughts, occupying her dreams. Sometimes she knew what they meant. Sometimes she had no fucking clue. But she used them…oh yes, frequently, daily at least, if only to feel that rush of power.

There was one that kept persistently appearing and it was the most troublesome of all. It was a symbol that seemed to summon things. Like the other day, she'd misplaced her apartment key, couldn't find it anywhere. And then this symbol came and she etched it on her desk just to get it out of her brain. Five minutes passed and the keys were there.

Weird right?

She'd looked on the desk a million times and the keys hadn't been there. So she'd tried it again, when she was hunting for a client's drawing she'd started but couldn't find in the mess of papers. The next morning, there the drawing was. So the symbol brought things to her. Talk about temptation.

She wanted to touch Dyami. She craved him in her subconscious. It was only a matter of time before she etched that want with the summoning symbol.

Summer sighed, rested her head against her table, and thought about reality. Or tried to, anyway. Did she want Dyami to come to her? Yes. Badly. Was that the best thing for her in her life? No. Yes. Maybe? She had a feeling getting tangled up in this unexplainable world of wolf and Hunter would be life changing. It already had been.

And then there was the matter of Vic. She hadn't actually seen him die, had avoided looking at his body after the fact. When Darcy was doing, well, whatever she'd been doing in the hotel room, Vic's body had disappeared. Ceased to be. And Summer didn't know how to deal with that. There were mementoes all over her apartment from her short time with Vic. Little things that brought a complex array of emotions.

Like frustration, for one. Why hadn't she seen him for what he was? She was usually an excellent judge of character, but she'd had no idea that the man was so violent. He'd only ever been gentle, caring, generous with her. Another emotion she felt was sorrow, and that confused her more than anything. Why did she mourn the loss of someone who had kidnapped her? Scared her beyond belief? She didn't understand it, but there it was. Her heart ached a little for the loss of Vic, a man she apparently barely knew. A Hunter of werewolves.

Fuck.
It was all so complicated. Her brain never seemed to shut down, cycling through the things she knew versus the things she didn't. And there were a lot of things she didn't know. Hunter. Wolf Slayer. Huntress. Beast. She needed explanations about what it all meant because the limited amount of information on the internet was misleading and vague. Probably inaccurate.

She shook her head. Definitely inaccurate.

Strangely, what was more important than any of that—if she was being honest with herself—was the need to see Dyami again. Truly honest? The reason why she hadn't used the symbol to call him? It hurt that he hadn't come to her without prompting. Made her think that he didn't want to see her now that he was healed. Self-doubt, her best friend these days. If she was supposed to be his destined mate, wouldn't he feel their separation as keenly as she did? Wouldn't he want to see her too? Wouldn't he know that she was scared, confused, lonely? Never mind that she had run from him, effectively rejecting a future with him. But when faced with a wolf—a giant wolf at that—what could she do but run? Did she regret it? Yes. Kinda. And she also expected him to come for her. The little time she'd spent with him, she knew, if Dyami wanted something or someone he'd go after it.

So why hadn't he shown up? Called? Emailed? Something? After a month of waiting, she didn't know what to think. And it wasn't like her old friend Google could help, either. No word on the band or Dyami whatsoever, other than to announce an indefinite postponement of their North American tour. She did find a number for the band's management firm. That was a start, at least. A meandering, totally indirect path to what she actually needed, which was a way to speak to Dy directly, but at least it was a start.

She'd been obsessing for too long on it all. It was time to either put up or shut up. Did she want Dyami in her life? Yes. No. Damned hesitation.

Yes.

Then do something about it, stupid.
She picked up her phone.

“Yo, Summer, you in here?” JD, one of the punked-out counter boys popped his head around the corner, Mohawk sky-high and very vibrantly blue today.

She tried to smile, slid her phone back into her purse. “Yeah, I'm here still. You got something for me?”

JD nodded to the front with his head. “There's a guy here to see you. Dave something or other. Says it's important. Can I send him back?”

Summer frowned. Dave who? “Does he look sane?”

JD snorted. “Um, yeah, looks like a million bucks, for realz. Armani suit and everything, yo.”

“You checking labels all of a sudden?” Summer chuckled, trying to shake off her melancholy.

JD shrugged. “Whatever, he's got cash. That much is obvious. If he wants ink, you're gonna score. Jack the price.”

“Fine, send him in.” She sighed as she glanced back at the crumpled mess of papers on her floor. “Not like I'm doing anything super important anyway. What's one more kanji, angel, butterfly, whatever.”

The man who walked into her room was not the normal tattoo shop patron—JD had that right. His blond hair was slicked back, sunglasses perched on his head, hazel eyes sparkling like he was a man who knew things and could do things. Big things. His suit was tailored, no doubt about it, fit like it was made for him. Gray, with a slight sheen. No tie, shirt partially unbuttoned.

“Summer Sinclair?” He held his hand out, brandishing quite a few big, bulky gold rings. Tasteful, just not usual.

“Yes?” She took his hand, gave it a firm shake then let it go.

“My name is Dave Strader and I'm here regarding a mutual friend.”

She frowned. Mutual friend? She didn't have any friends. Nothing more than acquaintances. Unless he meant… “Dyami?” Her heart did a little flip.

Dave nodded, moved to her bench, hiked up a pant leg a tad and angled his body so he was half sitting, half standing. “Without going into too much detail.” He motioned at the open concept area. The walls didn't reach the ceiling. There was no door on the entrance of her room. “I'm here on behalf of Mayhem.”

Summer's heart crushed in on itself. “Mayhem?”

“It is at his request that I come and ‘fetch' you.” Dave air quoted the word “fetch,” then smiled. “You'll get used to his way of phrasing things.”

“I don't understand.” She kind of bristled at the comment. Fetch, like she was some dog.
Oh wait…that's kind of funny.
“What does Mayhem want with me?”

“We've got a flight booked to Vermont, boarding at six.” He flipped his wrist and checked his watch. “That's two hours from now. I've got a car, can take you to your place to pack some things.”

“Wait one damn minute.” Summer raised her hands like she was going to be able to slow things down. “Why would I need to go to Vermont?”

Dave smiled at her indulgently. “Because Mayhem wants you there.”

She crossed her arms and shook her head. “I'm not going anywhere with you. In fact, I think it's time you left.”

Dave studied her for a minute, his smile fading somewhat. “You Huntress women are all headstrong you know that?” He sighed. “He told me to fill you in if you proved to be stubborn like the other two, so here goes. Dyami is…sick.”

Summer's heart thudded painfully. “What kind of sick?”
I thought I'd taken care of the poison…I was sure of it.

“He seems to be stuck”—Dave lowered his voice—“in his wolf form.”

“Um…”

“It's been over a month and Mayhem is concerned that there may be no getting the man—Dyami—back if it goes on much longer. He thinks you can help.” Dave crossed his arms over his chest casually. “So it's up to you, you still want to dig your heels into the ground? No more Dyami as you knew him?”

Summer's mind raced. No more Dyami? The thought made her heart hammer, her gut flip, the need to vomit there at the back of her throat. “How can I help?”

“Fuck if I know.” Dave shrugged and stood, checking his watch again. “I'm just following Mayhem's orders. Fetch the girl, Dyami's mate, bring her back.”

Dyami's mate…
The words held such weight. Such intrigue. “I'll need to get my stuff.”

“Like I said, two hours.” He tapped his watch. “And I'll be breathing down your neck every step of the way. Let's go.”

Summer snatched up her purse and stuffed her cellphone inside, then her house keys, her mind at war with her instinct. Running to Dyami the wolf was so not what she'd imagined in way of a reunion. It was not logical.

“Trust your gut.”

And yet, all her body seemed to want to do was go to him.

“I'm right behind you.”