Bewitched (Bewitched, #1)(75)

I draw in a breath when I see dozens and dozens of clay shards. I lift one of the larger pieces, one that resembles a finger. The inside of it is hollow. There’s no muscle, no bone, no blood. The thing that almost killed me literally shattered like a broken pot. Still, several feet away, its head and one of its shoulders lie mostly intact.

As I walk up to it, it hisses, snapping its teeth at me.

Yeah, not today, Frankenstein.

I lift my bare foot, then slam it down on its face, grimacing as the sharp, jagged edges of its head cut into my skin.

What’s one more injury at this point?

I draw my foot back and bash it in again. And again.

Somewhere along the way, I begin to scream my rage, and I think I may be crying, and I don’t care. I don’t care because my body feels like this is the last bit of energy I have.

I pulverize the creature’s face until nothing remains.

And then I limp my way back to the girl.

I still don’t know her name.

I want to laugh. We both nearly died three times over, yet I don’t know her name, and she knows even less about me.

Then I do laugh, and I think I’m still crying.

I’m losing it. I know I am.

I bend to pick her up, and it’s not going to happen, my muscles are too tired, my body too spent.

Still, I manage to scrape together enough of Memnon’s power to lend me the needed strength.

I haul the girl into my arms and stumble toward the boundary separating witch from lycanthrope territory. With a final lunge, I cross the line.

I fall to my knees on the other side of it, Nero next to me.

My arms loosen, and the girl slides out of them.

And then I pass out.





CHAPTER 29





I am cloaked in darkness, my mind wrapped in it like a blanket. It only pulls back slightly when I hear a low warning growl from Nero, who’s curled against my side.

I fight my way back to consciousness, rousing only enough to lift my hand in additional warning to whoever is approaching.

My eyes meet the brown eyes of a wolf. As soon as I see it, I drop my hand.

Not a witch.

In the back of my mind, I note the irony that even bloody and weak, I feel safer right now in the presence of a predator than I do a witch.

“It’s okay, Nero,” I whisper.

My familiar quiets, though he’s tense behind me.

The wolf paces forward, and if it’s interested in eating me, I’m F-U-C-K-E-D because I’m not moving. I don’t think I could even if I tried.

The wolf takes a few steps forward, then soundlessly shifts. In its place stands a naked older man.

He rushes over the last of the distance before kneeling at our side, uncaring that a panther is mere feet from him. I can’t see the man’s expression, but he must smell the blood on me. I’ve lost a lot, I think…

I don’t know what we must look like.

The man leans into the girl’s neck and breathes in her scent. Whatever he smells causes him to whine. Then he leans over and scents me as well, his nose tickling my skin. Nero growls again but doesn’t do anything else. I hear another whine come from the man, this one slightly different.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

I don’t think so, but I don’t bother admitting that.

Instead, I reach out and grope in the darkness for his hand. When I find it, I give it a squeeze.

I swallow, beating back the darkness that keeps clouding my vision.

“They tried…to…bind her,” I whisper. I feel a pressing need to get this story out now, in case more people come for me and the girl. “She was…drugged… Did…my best…to…get her…here.” I keep having to pause to catch my breath. Everything hurts so damn bad. Even pushing out words. And my vision keeps clouding. I think. It’s so dark. I don’t know. Confused.

The girl, I remind myself.

“Please…” I say, squeezing the shifter’s hand, “get her…to safety…before they…come back.”

“Who? Who’s coming back?”

I try to speak again, but I’m so tired. So, so tired.

I think I drift a little, but I rouse again when I hear the shifter howl, the sound of it raising my gooseflesh. I crack my eyes open—when did they close?—and see the girl is in his arms.

“Thank you for protecting Cara,” he says, and oh, he’s talking to me.

I try to sharpen my focus.

“I’m going to send some pack mates over here,” he continues. “We’ll get you healed and taken care of. Just hold tight.” That last part sounds a bit like a plea, and I understand why a second later.

The shifter retreats into the darkness, carrying the girl.

I should feel terrified of being left alone, weak as I am. But Nero is beside me, and I know he’s keeping watch. Between that and my relief that the girl is now back with her pack, I let the darkness take me once more.





It seems like only minutes later when my sleep is interrupted again. I hear the heavy crunch of pine needles as someone approaches.

One of the shifters, I remind myself.

The footsteps halt when they get to me.

“Only fools and warriors pass out under an open sky. Reckless woman, you are a bit of both.”