Текст книги "Wicked Edge"
Автор книги: Rebecca Zanetti
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Chapter 4
Daire stared at the stunning woman facing him so bravely. White-blond hair, sparkling black eyes, tiny stature, and hoarse voice. A purebred female demon. They were so rare as to be almost extinct, and not for a second had he considered she was part of the demon species. She looked much more angel than anything else. Of course, angels didn’t exist, and demons were just another race with no ties to heaven or hell. Just earth.
Most demons gave off intrusive vibrations of energy, and it usually took years, centuries really, for one to be able to temper the waves. But this one? This one didn’t give off any hint of demonness. “Why couldn’t I tell what you are?” he asked, ignoring the freezing wind cutting into his eyes.
Her gaze faltered and then strengthened. “Maybe you’re not all that talented.”
At the moment, he didn’t appreciate flippancy. Standing this close to her, even knowing what she was, his body rioted. Not even the sub-zero temperature could cool his raging cock. “How old are you?”
She huffed. “What a rude question.”
“Answer it, or I’ll show you rude.”
She rolled those stunning eyes. “Fine. I’m a hundred and twenty-five.” Then she frowned, looking no more than twenty-five years old. For her species, she was young. “How old are you?”
“Over three centuries.” He narrowed his gaze, fighting every animalistic urge he owned not to tackle her to the ground and take what she’d offered the other night. “You’re not old enough to be able to mask your energy. Not nearly old enough to do it so well.” He’d met demons over a thousand years old who couldn’t mask to that degree. “Explain.”
She lifted one small shoulder, and the wind kicked in, lifting her light hair. “We all have unique gifts, Enforcer. That’s mine.”
He frowned as the cold slapped his bare face. Nothing about the woman was adding up, and even so, his fingers itched to run through her hair.
She shivered.
He swore. “Put your glove back on.”
She slowly slipped her delicate hand back into the glove. The wind stirred up snow, and it swirled around, turning her into a magical princess. “I’m going to ask you again, how did you know to follow me to Norway and not Russia?” The woman spoke with intelligence and a hint of demand.
The combination only turned him on, which made absolutely no sense. He liked quiet, sweet, structured women. “The mines in Russia are public knowledge; the mines here are not.” He’d figured she’d check out the secret mines first, and the bet had paid off. “What do you want with the Fryser Island mines, Cee Cee? If that’s your real name.”
“It is.” She slid the glasses down her forehead to protect her eyes. The wind rolled dark clouds in from the sea, and the temperature instantly dropped further. “At least, that’s what my mother called me.”
“The mines?”
She shrugged, the movement oddly sensual. “I’m hunting a demon with strong connections to your people and your mines. You own two of the four here, and he owns the other two. Apparently this mine of yours is truly not producing.”
“I don’t deal with demons,” he said, trying to keep derision from his tone. Truth be told, until he’d gotten to know Logan recently, he’d never liked a demon. “Who are you, ah, hunting?” It was hard to imagine the petite blonde hunting anybody, but looks were obviously misleading.
She just stared at him, no expression on her smooth face.
“Who are you?” he asked softly.
She blinked, as if not expecting the question. “Nobody you need to worry about, Enforcer.” She slid one very small boot toward the sprawling snowmobile.
“You became my business the moment you drugged me and stole my files as well as the private files of a member of the Coven Nine.” The second she’d smiled at him, he’d been in a constant state of arousal. “What did you drug me with?”
She craned her neck toward the empty ignition slot and then sighed. “It was a horse sedative with a few tweaks. Quantum physics at its finest.”
He widened his stance and fought a shiver as the blackened clouds started to cover the meager sun. “You hired a witch to alter the sedative and take me down.”
“Not all witches belong to the Coven Nine,” she murmured.
No shit. One of them was sprawled, unconscious, on the ice in front of him. “I’m well aware.”
She smiled. “You’re fine, with no permanent damage, so how about we call it even?”
Even? His chin lowered as his temper tried to spike. “You’re joking.”
“No.” She mirrored his stance and planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to fight you.” Turning slightly, she glanced toward the empty orange building, revealing a wicked bruise along her jawline.
“Holy fuck.” He moved before thinking, prowling toward her through the swirling snow, cupping her jaw. The bruise was too fresh for him to have done it the other night, thank God.
She tried to step back, and the snowmobile stopped her. “I’m fine.”
Rage, the real kind, roared through him. He released her and took a quick step away before fire flared through his right glove, burning it away. Taking several deep breaths, he quelled his temper and the flame.
Her mouth formed a perfect O.
Keeping her gaze, he drew a knife from his boot.
She paled. “Wh—”
“He dies,” Daire said, turning toward the prone witch.
“No.” Cee Cee rushed toward him, grabbing his arm. “It was a fair fight, and then you knocked him out. Why would you kill him?”
Daire stilled. The entire world halted, and he touched her with his now bare hand, running a finger along the darkening bruise. “For this.” Gladly. Her skin was softer than silk and twice as fragile. Snow licked against her surprisingly dark eyelashes and melted on her nose.
Her finely arched eyebrows drew down, and she leaned back against the snowmobile, breaking his hold. “Um, we’re enemies. You get that, right?”
“Aye.” It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered at the moment but avenging that purple mark on her face. “But I wouldn’t do that to you. Ever.”
She tilted her head to the side, confusion all but rolling from her. “So you’re basically harmless to me.”
He chuckled, even pissed off. “Oh, I didn’t say that.” She’d tell him everything he wanted to know, but he’d never punch a woman. He turned back toward the immediate problem.
“Daire, please do not kill him,” she whispered.
He sighed. “Why the hell not?”
“There’s been enough death, don’t you think?” She pushed the glasses up her head again, her eyes onyx jewels. “No more.”
The war had ended a little more than a year before, and too many immortals had died. Yet when he again glanced at the bruise on her face, he wanted to draw blood. He needed to harm the witch on the ground. But it didn’t have to be today, and it didn’t have to happen in front of Cee Cee. His chest hitched. “Well now, what kind of deal shall we strike?” he asked.
She swallowed. “I’ll return your deeds and surveys to you, as well as the documents taken from Simone Brightston.”
He smiled. “I assume they’re in the backpack you’re still wearing, and I believe I can get them if I so choose.” He faced her fully, more than a little curious how far she’d go. What would the little temptress offer?
Her nostrils flared, and a little color returned to her angled cheeks. “Fine. How about I don’t melt your brain out of your skull?”
He slid the knife back into his boot. “Speaking of which, why didn’t you unleash a demon mind attack on Vegar here?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. It takes energy to shoot pain and terrible images into somebody else’s head, especially a witch’s. You must know that.”
Aye, he did understand her people’s gifts and the toll it took on them. “You were about to get your ass burned.”
She scoffed. “Hardly. I was just getting started.”
Maybe. Maybe not. He cocked his head to the side. “Heal your face, Cee Cee.” Her people had just as much healing power as witches, and she should’ve already sent healing cells to her jaw. The bruise was making it difficult for him to focus, and it needed to disappear.
She pursed her lips. “I will when I’m ready.”
What the hell? “Do it now, or I cut off his head.”
She glanced around at the now churning sea, the darkening sky, the silent buildings, and mumbled something.
He leaned in. “Didn’t hear you.”
She exhaled, sparks shooting from her eyes. “I’m too cold.”
The admission slammed him in the chest. Sometimes he forgot not everybody burned with fire inside. Damn it. He instantly shrugged out of the Klim jacket.
“No.” She moved back and tumbled, falling on the snowmobile.
“Yes.” He hauled her up by the arm and shoved the coat around her. “Put your arms in, or I’ll do it for you.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I’m not weak.”
He tilted his head. “Never said you were.”
She cleared her throat, vulnerability darkening her eyes. “Right.”
What kind of land mine had he just stepped in? He couldn’t handle an emotional female at the moment. “Being cold isn’t the same as being weak. Now put on the fucking coat.”
She pushed her arms in, and he zipped her up, noting how the coat dropped nearly to her knees. She ducked her face inside the collar. “Petrichor,” she murmured.
“Huh?” he asked.
“The smell after the rain is petrichor,” she said. “Even in the bar at Titans of Fire, that’s how you smelled.” Her throaty voice seemed to kiss his skin, and he’d give every possession he owned to have her whispering something, anything, against his cock.
He shifted his weight.
Waves crashed into the shore, water spreading over ice. He grasped her arm. “What was your plan here?”
She glanced down at the prone witch. “He was supposed to pick me up, get us to shelter, and then show me the three remaining mines on the island. The orange one right there is obviously defunct.” A fox yipped in the distance, and she slid her hands into the pockets. Then she frowned. “By the way, a hang glider?”
He eyed the oncoming storm. “I own this abandoned mine as well as the functioning coal mine up beyond the bluff. My employees hang glide for fun, and when I saw you through binoculars, it was definitely the fastest way of getting down here.”
She eyed the far peaks. “How did you get up there?”
“Plane, helicopter, and parachute,” he said easily. From the island, snowmobiling was the only way to get to the coal mine, and that was fine with him. “About twenty years ago, I had a hangar built on the western end of the island. We need to get there and to the helicopter to get off this damn island.” A gust of wind blew in, and she stumbled toward him. Lightning zigged across the sky. He crossed to the downed witch and searched his pockets, getting the snowmobile key. Fire crackled along his arms. “I’ll wake this guy up and ask who offered him money to betray you.”
She coughed. “No need. I already know.”
Daire glanced over his shoulder. “Who?”
Her lips pressed tightly together. Her very blue lips.
He sighed and moved toward the vehicle. “We need shelter until the storm passes.” At which point, she’d finally tell him everything. “Give me the name, Cee Cee. I’m not going to ask why right now, but I want the name.” Getting information from the woman was as difficult as getting money from his cousin, Simone. Women.
She glanced down at the barely breathing witch on the ground. Her shoulders moved forward just an inch. “Ivan Bychkov.”
Daire jerked his head. Bychkov, the damn demon, owned half of the mines in Russia, including a couple that had formerly mined planekite. So he also owned the other two mines on Fryser. Interesting. Daire had traced the ownership through several dummy corporations that hadn’t led back to Bychkov. “The plot thickens,” Daire muttered. For now, he had to get the woman out of the storm. He sat on the snowmobile, his butt instantly freezing, and held out a hand. “We’ve been here before.” It wasn’t a motorcycle, but close enough.
She faltered and then accepted his hand. The wind whipped her hair around, and her beautiful eyes teared.
He stopped her before she could straddle the machine. One more question needed to be answered before he could move on and make a plan. “Was any of it real?” he asked.
“Any of what?”
The looks, the kiss, the fucking need. “Us.”
She blinked snow from her eyes, her gaze down. “No.”
He studied her, noting the vibrations in the air. “You’re a terrible liar.”
She gasped, her gaze meeting his. “I most certainly am not.”
Was she protesting his claim that she was a liar or a terrible liar? “Aye, you are.” He leaned in, not missing her quick intake of breath. “Admit it was real, or I’ll prove it.” Damn, he really wanted to prove her wrong.
Even bruised, her chin was stubborn. She leaned toward him, bringing the scent of female and hyacinth. “There’s nothing to prove. I worked you, Enforcer. Deal with it.”
He moved then, clamping his hands on her waist, and plunking her down, facing him. The handlebars bracketed her, as did his arms.
She sucked in air and tried to lean back and away. The move scooted her core closer to his, and he shoved against her, his dick jumping at the vee in her legs. Her eyes widened. Desire all but rolled off her. Both hands pressed against his chest with impressive strength.
“Admit it, Cee Cee.”
“No.” She didn’t hide her gaze, but her fingers curled into his chest. Anger and denial danced in her eyes, but beneath them, there was something more. Curiosity? She held her breath, not moving.
His gaze narrowed. She wanted to know as badly as he did if the other night had been about tequila and drugs or something else. Yet instead of saying so, she denied any feelings and waited for him to pounce. His biceps vibrated with the need to do exactly that and go deep. So he slid his hands down to her hips and tilted her, rubbing his shaft between her legs.
She gasped, and her lips half lowered. Desire competed with the storm now beating around them.
He leaned in so close his breath brushed her lips. “I don’t play games, sweetheart, and you’ve done nothing else since the first time I met you.”
Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips.
He fought a groan and pressed harder against her core. Even through his snow pants and hers, he could swear he felt her heat. The woman called to him on a level he couldn’t explain, but he’d give anything to feel her wrapped around him, crying out his name.
“I’m not playing games,” she ground out, her voice so sexily hoarse he almost came in his pants right there.
“You are.” He closed the inch between them and settled his lips a breath away from hers. There was an innocence to her game playing, a real curiosity, that gave him pause. She was a demon, no doubt closely protected by family her entire life, considering female demons were incredibly rare. Had she been with a man? The other night, the woman had known how to kiss. Really known how to kiss. Was the curiosity real? “Enough game playing.”
Her eyelids fluttered shut. “Fine.” Quick as any witch, she shot her hands into his hair and yanked his mouth against hers. Soft as petals, she kissed him, flicking her tongue along his lower lip.
Desire, hot and desperate, roared through his blood. Flexing his hands, he tipped her back, taking her lips and stealing the kiss. His tongue swept inside her mouth, tasting woman and fine wine. The combination lit him on fire, and he had to force flames away from his skin. Something he hadn’t had to do since he’d been a randy teenager centuries ago.
He pressed against her, allowing the beast inside him off the leash. Then she groaned. The sound reverberated up her throat, eased into his mouth, and set his nerve endings alive. Kissing her harder, he pressed his chest against hers, allowing the handlebars to carry their weight. With only his mouth working hers, he tilted her head to the side so he could go deeper. His hands went to her jacket, just as her cold nose brushed against his cheek.
Freezing nose.
He broke the kiss and leaned back, his entire body throbbing with the fierce need to strip her bare and bury himself inside her tight body. “You’re cold,” he rumbled, his voice rougher than any demon’s would ever be.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and her pupils widened. Surprise and need glittered in the depths of her eyes. “Not cold. Very hot.”
He grinned. Even now, his body on fire, her likability soothed him. Oh, he didn’t trust her and had no doubt they were on opposite sides of whatever was going on. Yet she had a sweetness to her he wanted to explore, consequences be damned. “Shelter, baby. We need shelter.”
The atmosphere ticked. A change around them, a tension in the storm, had his shoulders stiffening. He leaned back, taking Cee Cee with him, and surveyed the area.
She stilled, her head turning toward the orange building. “Something is there.”
Aye. The storm had strengthened, swirling snow around, making visibility nil. But he could feel something. Or someone. Darkness through the white. Eyes. Animal eyes.
Slowly, on the prowl, a series of polar bears stalked around both sides of the orange building. The beasts were well known in Norway, their kills a normal occurrence when anybody was stupid enough to set foot on Norwegian islands.
Cee Cee swallowed. “Shifter or animal?”
He ducked his head. Many shifters lived on the island, and most of his employees in the coal mine were actual bear shifters. But these? All animal, which was unfortunate. He moved his hands incredibly slowly around the woman’s stiff body. The switch inside him flipped, turning him from lover to killer in an instant. Protecting the woman in front of him became his entire focus. “I’m going to ignite the engine, and I need you to flip around me and hold on at the same second.”
“Okay,” she whispered, her thighs tightening around his waist.
“Now,” he muttered, twisting the key. The engine roared to life, and Cee Cee moved, gracefully swirling around him and planting her butt in place.
The lead bear charged, teeth sharp and bared.
Chapter 5
Oh God. There were at least eight large beasts running at them.
“Hold on, Cee Cee,” Daire said, twisting the throttle. The powerful vehicle jumped forward, and snow sprayed.
She clamped her hands together, her body flush with his, her legs vibrating. Piercing cold air rushed against her face, and she leaned her cheek into his back. “What about Vegar?” she yelled.
Daire swerved to avoid the head bear.
Two more leaped toward them, hitting their bodies square on and knocking them off the rapidly moving snowmobile. Daire turned in midair and tucked her close, wrapping his body around her as they landed hard on the ice and skidded several yards. Before she could catch her breath, he was up and in front of her, facing down a line of snarling beasts.
She scrambled to stand, her boots sliding on the slippery surface. Panic cut off her air, and the wind shoved at her from behind. The snowmobile continued on without them for a distance, slowed, and slid to a stop, its engine still running.
The nearest bear lifted its head and growled. Insanity glowed in its eyes, or maybe that was hunger. Definitely pure animal with no shifter inside. Judging by size, three of the animals were male, five female. All were a mangy white with thick coats and deadly claws, ranging from nine feet to seven feet tall, and about a thousand pounds. How in the hell could she and Daire take all eight of them?
A female to the leader’s left turned and ran over to Vegar on the ground. Cee Cee cried out and tried to move toward the downed witch, but Daire shoved her back behind him.
“Too late. Concentrate on the immediate threat,” he ordered, his stance set, his large body between her and the snarling beasts.
A sickening crunch echoed as one of the beasts sank its teeth into Vegar’s neck. Within seconds, the animal had beheaded the witch. Two more bears leaped over and started to feed.
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. Cee Cee swallowed down bile.
Daire angled slightly toward the sea, facing the remaining five beasts. “I’m going to charge them, straight in the middle, and you run for the snowmobile,” he said under his breath.
“No.” She couldn’t leave him to five of the snarling monsters. “You’re tough, Enforcer, but one of those animals just ripped off a witch’s head with minimal effort.” She’d never fought a real bear before. “Go for the throat and incapacitate quickly,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Get to the damn snowmobile. The throttle is the right handlebar—just twist forward the second you jump on. I can’t charge them and cover you.”
She quickly calculated scenarios in her head. He was right. The five remaining bears began to spread out and circle them. “Okay.”
“When you get on, go north, past the buildings, and keep going until you reach the base of that peak over there. I have allies, polar bear shifters, and they’ll help you. Tell them you’re mine.” Daire shook out his hands and angled to keep himself in alignment with the leader as it moved. “Now. Go.” With a breathtaking roar, he jumped forward, arms outstretched, taking down three of the massive bears.
Cee Cee ducked to the side and ran full bore toward the snowmobile. Panting and the clacking of nails on ice sounded behind her. Claws raked down her arm, shredding the coat and digging into her skin.
Pain flared—hot and brutal.
Her heart rate increased, and her lungs panted out. She half turned and kicked out, nailing the animal in the snout. It went down, and Cee Cee turned to run again. Blood poured from her torn artery, but she didn’t have the time or resources to heal herself right now.
She reached the snowmobile, leaped onto the seat, her hand already twisting the handlebar. The machine lurched forward, and she jerked to the right, swinging the back skis around. No way was she leaving Daire to the animals. The machine wobbled, and she tightened her hold, opening the throttle wide. Ducking her head, she drove over the ice, straight at the melee.
Blood already flowed across the white tundra. Daire stood in the middle of the four remaining predators, kicking and striking, forming fire balls and throwing. The beasts used sharp claws and deadly teeth, alternating between striking and avoiding the burning plasma.
Cee Cee ran right into the biggest animal, hitting it in the back and sending it flying toward the sea. She whipped the vehicle around and reached out a hand for Daire. Blood covered him forehead to ankles, and most of his clothing was shredded. “Get on,” she yelled.
He shook blood from his eyes and threw a succession of deep green fireballs at the bears, swinging his arm and creating a graceful arc of flame. With his free hand, he grabbed hers and jumped behind her, still forming and throwing deadly fire through the swirling storm. The horrifying smells of burned fur and blood swirled with the barrage of snow. “Go,” he bellowed.
She leaned down and opened the throttle again, kicking out with one leg to nail a bear in the neck. It fell back, teeth mashing together.
Daire wrapped his body over her, his thighs outside her hips, bracketing her. With an unholy howl, the lead bear came at them from the left, while another male came from the right. “Strike to the right,” Daire ordered.
Her lungs compressed. She held on to the handlebars and cocked her leg to kick. Daire threw fire from both hands, nailing each bear before turning to deal with the lead Alpha bear.
The other male yelped as fire impacted his chest but didn’t halt his trajectory. He hit the front side of the snowmobile, thick paw sweeping out. His claws raked into her forehead and ripped down, opening up the side of her face to the bone. Raw agony set her on fire. She screamed and jerked her head away, trying to protect her eye.
The lead bear roared in fury and pain, but she didn’t turn to see. Daire leaned over her, a ball of fire in his palm, and smashed the flames into the other male bear’s face. It shrieked and fell back.
Daire grabbed her hands over the bars and pushed farther, driving fast into the storm and dodging around the orange building. Dizziness rippled through her, and she tried to focus, but too much pain pierced her nerves. The freezing cold clashed against the raw bones in her face, and nausea lurched across her stomach.
He steered the vehicle through a deserted town dotted with abandoned buildings, including a schoolhouse and small store. Daire continued on, fighting the storm, and finally reached a crumbling brick building with a haphazardly hanging sign that read: ISLAND SKOLE. Island School. He drove around back and cut the engine, grabbing her up in one smooth motion and running through a partially open back door.
The smell of must and snow filled her nose. He moved gracefully, but every slight jostle sent excruciating pain through her head. Her arm had gone numb, which was not a good sign.
He carried her through the small building containing overturned desks and tables into what appeared to have been a kitchen, where he gently sent her down on an red metal table. Old pots littered the ice-covered floor, while a wide frozen oven took up one whole wall opposite a crumbling brick fireplace. “How bad?” he asked, walking around and stopping short upon seeing her face. “Holy fucking shit.”
She wobbled, her vision graying.
With a gentleness surprising in such a large man, he unzipped the coat and removed it. Even so, when he reached her injured arm, she bit back a scream.
“God.” He peered down. “Your artery is clawed, baby. Can you heal it? You’re bleeding like a geyser.”
Her teeth chattered, and she tried to concentrate and send healing cells to the wound, but she’d lost too much blood. She was too damn cold. “No.”
“Okay. Hold on. I’ve got you.” He jerked around and grabbed an overturned wooden chair, one of four. Quickly kicking them into small pieces, he shoved them into the brick fireplace. Fire danced down his arms, and he shot it toward the wood, which sputtered and died out. He looked around frantically and then yanked off his shirt, tore it into shreds, and placed the pieces under the wood.
“No, Daire,” she said weakly. He’d need his shirt.
“Shh.” He formed plasma balls again and set the material on fire. Claw marks marred his incredible back and arms, even his head. Through the temporary carnage, she spotted an intricate tattoo that began at his left shoulder blade and wound up his back and down his arm. A myriad of complex Celtic lines with a barely discernible C9E combined in the middle. His designation as an enforcer for the Coven Nine, the ruling body of witches. A sexy warning on his warrior’s body.
As she watched, the wounds began to close. Incredible. Witches could heal faster than any other species, probably because of the whole fire thing and their ability to alter matter through the use of quantum physics. She giggled.
He turned. “You’re going into shock.”
God, she hoped so. The pain was too much, and if she threw up, her head might really fall off.
The wood caught fire, and warmth began to permeate the small room. “Won’t the animals see the smoke?” she asked drowsily, swaying on the table.
“They’re animals, sweetheart. Not shifters.” He moved toward her and peered down at her arm. “Your head is bad, but nowhere as bad as your arm. You’re still bleeding too much.” Regret colored his tone, but she was so close to falling into the darkness, she didn’t wonder why. He smoothed the hair from her face. “You’re too weak to heal yourself, so I’ll have to. This might scar you. I’m sorry.”
She blinked.
He held her good arm, and a very pretty green fire danced on his free hand. Then he pressed it to her injuries along her bicep.
Agony! She screamed, her entire nervous system misfiring. All instinct, she kicked out, shoving against him and trying to get away from the flame. He held tight, giving no quarter. The scent of burned flesh banished the clean scent of wood on fire. Tears poured down her face, burning in her injuries.
He finally let go, and she leaned back, all fuzziness gone. Several gulping breaths brought her back to control.
“You okay?” he asked, smoothing bloody hair off her face.
She swallowed and tried to stem the tears. “Yes.” Her voice shook. “Thank you.”
He grimaced, and his warrior’s hand shook. “I know that hurt, and I’m not done.” He turned her arm over to reveal three thick, bloody lines down her forearm. “If we don’t stem the blood, you won’t be able to heal your face.”
If they didn’t stem the blood, she’d go into a coma and might not recover. “I know.” She tried to straighten her back, her gaze seeking his.
Sorrow and regret mingled with fury in his amazing green eyes. This was costing him more than her, if she had to guess. So she swallowed and tried to smile with the half of her face that still worked. “I’m fine, Enforcer. Let’s see your fire.”
Daire kept his hold gentle on her wrist and hid the turmoil slashing through his gut. There was a chance the burns he was inflicting on her would scar if she didn’t get the strength to heal them and soon. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s all right.” She tried to smile again, her beautiful face something out of a horror flick. The right side of her face was in ribbons, down to her cheekbone, and to her skull. The roots of her teeth even showed. Waves of pain, excruciating in their intensity, rolled off her, and yet the woman was trying to smile for him. So he could do what had to be done. Her dark eyes held trust and reassurance. “Let’s get it over with, Daire,” she said, the words slurred through one side of her mouth.
He drew in air, altered the oxygen molecules around his hand, and formed a green plasma ball. Toning down the intensity took enough concentration that sweat slickened his forehead, but he hadn’t healed completely yet, and his power had ebbed. Finally, he reached the right mixture and wiped his palm across her forearm.
She jerked, and he clamped a hand on her good shoulder to hold her in place. But he didn’t need to. She stayed still, any color still remaining in her skin wiping away to leave pure white. Her gaze held his, even as her eyes filled with tears.
But she didn’t make a sound this time.
It was almost worse. To witness the struggle in her, to see the strength, humbled him. It was one of the bravest things he’d ever seen, and he wondered what kind of monsters she’d faced to learn to keep silent in pain. Smoke rose from her arm, and he lifted his palm. He’d cauterized the wounds, leaving raised burns, red and swollen.
