Scorched Fury: A SkinWalker Novel #5 (DarkWorld: SkinWalker) (18 page)

Lily groaned and mumbled something about being grateful for leather linings. At first I was confused. Then I grinned. The dangerous contents of her bag. None of which could help us out of this particular jam

A loud crack sounded ahead of us as the Shadowman continued his assault. A splintered tree limb hit the ground and shattered into dozens of deadly spikes. The shadows tossed them at us and though I held out the dagger, I still felt the wood piercing into my flesh. Still heard Lily's sharp scream as she too was hit.

Impaled by two of the splinters I felt a wave of fury wash over me. I refused to go down like this. I'd defeated Wraiths and demons and more. No way was I going to let a puny shadow mage cut me down.

I shifted forward, pushing myself to my feet, barely registering the fat splinter that sat deep within my upper thigh, and the second stake that had plunged straight through my arm.

Wood piercings could come back into fashion, Odel.

Standing, barely, I straightened and threw the dagger at the shadow figure. I hadn't expected anything to happen. Even though I'd thrown the Glyhs as a last resort, sending a prayer to Ailuros, I hadn't really believed it would save us.

But the creature screamed, the sound piercing my eardrums. The dagger slammed into him as if he were a solid being, then passed through, hitting the sidewalk with a clatter.

The metal no longer glowed, but when I looked back at our assailant I could see where the blue light had entered and exited. It had struck the wound in his abdomen, spreading through his darkness like a poisonous wave. The shadows began to recede, giving way to pale blue light, destroying the darkness until it exploded into a shower of wispy blackness and sparks of blue light.

And the Glyhs saved us.

I stumbled forward and fell to my knees, grasping for the dagger. The street spun around me as I turned to check on Lily. She lay on the cracked sidewalk, taking harsh breaths that sounded like sandpaper on wood.
 

I scrambled closer, shaking with terror - or maybe it was shock considering my twin set of impalements- to inspect her for wounds. I sighed with relief. Lily had escaped with a flesh wound on her neck and half inch splinter in her upper arm. Maybe being so protective of Lily was a bad idea. Maybe she needed to toughen up a little.

Judging by the shock on her face, and her rapid breathing, I suspected I was right.

I was shocked that nothing more vital had been hit. With all those flying splinters there were jugulars and major arteries that could have suffered. Instead we both got to our feet, grabbed our bags and hobbled across the street as fast as we could.

A glance behind us revealed an eerily empty street.

"What the hell just happened?"

I shook my head, staring back at the town. "I think we got made."

"And Sienna."

"If that was really her, then she's long gone."

I didn't care to remain, either for apprehension or vengeance. Both Lily and I needed medical attention because unlike bullets and small flying objects, a panther was unable to eject wooden objects from the body without outside assistance.

So, though injured and slow, we made our way toward the nearest stand of trees.

Leaning against a tree trunk, I took a deep breath and dialed Cassandra, and put a call in for speedy transportation.

She sounded concerned and promised to arrange something immediately.

Larsson, Cassie's red-headed teleporter friend arrived within minutes, his easy grin having a calming effect on both Lily and myself. His eyes widened as he took in our various impalements, but I shook my head. No time to debrief him.

He seemed to understand, and just offered an arm to each of us. We held on tightly as he jumped us back to my father's house.

Funny.

I didn't recall telling him where I wanted to go.

CHAPTER 24

T
HE
JUMP
TOOK
A
LOT
OF
energy out of me, my injuries contributing to my weakness. I'd passed out for a few minutes after arriving, only to be brought back to blazing consciousness by a wild stab of pain searing my thigh.

I cracked open my eyes, one lid at a time, and found my pant leg torn off at the top of my thigh, my pale skin bare as Dad tried to work the ragged piece of wood free from my bleeding flesh.

Blood soaked my pants, my body, and stained my father's hands. Beneath my leg I felt the soft squelch of blood-soaked fabric.

Perspiration sprang on my forehead, not even bothering to elegantly dot my skin. Instead it fell in rivulets as I bit back a scream when Dad cracked off another thin piece of wood. He had no other way to work. He had to remove the wood, but its edges were jagged, catching easily against the raw flesh in which it was embedded.

Add to that the copious amounts of blood I seemed to be shedding and it didn't make for a simple procedure. Dad however seemed unfazed, and untainted by such normal things as perspiration. The man didn't have the decency to stress.

His eyes remained focused on my thigh, his hands moving confidently as he plucked at the wood in my wound with a pair of medical tweezers.

I winced as he broke off a particularly large piece.

"Maybe you should knock her out." Darcy's suggestion.

Now where had she come from?

"I don't think I have enough for the both of them." Dad's voice was tight with fear. I'd never seen him this way before and I reached out to touch his arm.

"I'll be fine, Dad. If I pass out don't wake me up until it's over." There was a note of amusement in my voice that didn't match the pain I was in.

Dad saw right through me.

He patted my hand and glanced up at Darcy who moved slowly to my side. I was on a bed somewhere in the house. The room, also unidentifiable, seemed to spin despite the fact that I was lying flat on my back.

I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, wincing as the movement made the splinter in my arm sting. I flicked a glance at it, noticed it still stuck out from both sides of my arm, and wondered when Dad would get around to removing it.

"As soon as we remove this one," said Dad pointing at the remains of the splinter in my thigh.

Apparently I'd spoken aloud.

I turned to face Darcy. "Can you make sure he doesn't leave a scar?" 

She laughed. "Is that all you're worried about?"

I cleared my throat and shifted so that I was no longer looking her in the eye. "Of course. How am I supposed to land a great guy with legs that look like ground meat?"

She shook her head, but reached for my hand. One of the biggest problems with being a walker and getting injured is that the lack of painkillers was a killer.

You couldn't even pretend to be badass if the pain was awful because you felt every second of it. Horse tranquilizers worked best in high doses and I understood my father's reluctance to obtain more just for this surgery. It would take time, and it would knock me out for more than a day.

The last time I used the tranquilizer, the Ancient, Darian, had attended to my wounds – under Logan's watchful eye, of course. I recalled how foggy I'd been after taking the drugs and right now we were all too vulnerable for me to be unconscious.

"What happened?" asked Darcy.

"I know what you're doing," I said softly.

"And what is that?" Her voice was amused.

"You want to distract me while Dad butchers my leg."

"Pretty much."

I laughed.

"Okay." May as well debrief someone. "Baz sent us to Sand Beach, and ironically the beach is more rocks than sand. Beautiful though." I swallowed, wincing as the movement tore open the dry skin on my cracked lips. I licked off the blood. "We thought we found her. She came up to us and introduced herself as Sienna. She seemed legit until the diner. I should have known something was up but I was too focused on finding her, helping Logan." I tried to subdue a cry of pain as Dad snapped more of the stake off.

I failed.

Panting, I closed my eyes, feeling the tears fall out of the sides of my eyes and run into my hairline. I ignored the moisture and cleared my throat. "She offered to show us where to have breakfast, asked a few questions. She said she had some errands to do. So she joined us after a few minutes. I'm beginning to wonder if that's when the real Sienna was switched out. Maybe they saw us as a threat and took her to 'safety'. We did maintain our cover, though. Or so I thought. Not sure how they made us."

"How did you figure out something was going on?"

Another snap and another cry of pain. Darcy gripped my hand tight, as if the pressure would help ease my pain. Funny enough, it did.
 

So debriefing her was a relief.

"I sensed it when I touched her. I tried not to show it, but maybe I gave it away. I don't know. When the shape-changer left it didn't seem like she was aware that I was onto her. But maybe she's a better actor than I thought."

I was about to lick my lips again when I stopped in time.

"Hold on," said Darcy. She reached into her pocket and I smelled vanilla and strawberry. Lip balm. The woman was an angel of mercy. "There," she said. "All done."

"Thanks." I managed to croak the word out. I coughed again and then continued. "So, after she left in her limo we pretended to look for a place to stay but they must have been watching us. Shape-changers, Fae, and then a Shadow Mage?" I shook my head.

"Certainly not a coincidence."

"Exactly what I was thinking."

"How did they know?" I croaked.

"It's probably just a case of them watching the agents they feel are the most risk to their op. You being with Logan makes you a prime question mark. They've probably always been worried that Logan would suddenly regain his memory and look for her."

The shadows outside my apartment.

I stiffened, wondering if they were linked to the shadow Mage I'd killed in Maine, or if someone was just using the shadows to watch me.

My gut said two sets of shadows a few hours apart, were far from coincidental.

I was about to fill them in on my shadow stalker when I was cut off by a blinding stab of pain as Dad freed the spike from my leg.
 

"Honey, I have to pick out the splinters. It's not going to be easy but it will be less painful than removing these things."

Dad bent over my leg, and I stared a little lightheaded at the growing silver in his hair. Then I focused on Darcy and my story.

"The Fae woman. She looked like she'd either been waiting for me, or for someone like me. But what was the purpose of the whole charade? Frighten us off? Were they afraid Sienna had made a connection with us? And if it's just a ruse, then where have they hidden her?" 

Darcy nodded. "I suspect you're right. They are probably just watching the perimeter, so to speak. She's well hidden. We just need to find out where.''

Dad looked up as he reached for the bandages. "What if she is there, but she isn't."

"Speak in riddles why don't you," I grumbled.

His response was an amused smile. "What if they have her right there, but in a different dimension?"

I nodded. "Okay. That's an option to consider. But if Logan is able to maintain a link with her, then wouldn't that mean she's in this plane? I haven't heard of cross-veil communication even with powerful Mage twins."

Dad frowned. "You have a good point. Scratch what I said."

"I won't scratch it entirely. Maybe they do have the power, but she may be protected. What if there is a glamor or a protective spell either around her or around the area she lives in? That would keep her safe from detection, or at least provide a barrier in order for them to move her if they feel her safety is threatened."

"Right. So what you're suggesting is I go back there and look again." I nodded. "But this time take reinforcements."

"Isn't that dangerous? They know what you look like." Lily stood at the threshold, arms folded, eyes dull as she leaned against the door. She sported torn sleeves, and a bandage on each arm. She gave Darcy a wary, but accepting smile.

"Yes, it is dangerous, but I can go undercover. Change my look."

"Didn't you touch one of them?" she asked dryly.

"I'll make sure I don't touch anyone again." I rolled my eyes.

"You think it's going to be that easy?"

I narrowed my eyes. "What's this about, Lily?"

She tightened her jaw. "It bugs me that you won't acknowledge the danger you'll face. You would have died if it hadn't been for that dagger-with-a-kickass-mojo."

"But, I didn't die."

"And that's supposed to mean what?"

I sighed, paying little attention as Dad began attending to the splinter that ran through my upper arm. I could already feel the flesh in my thigh knitting together. Heat spiked through the wound, regenerating the cells and repairing the damage.

"Look, Lily. I know you're worried."

"Worried? I'm not worried. I'm terrified that you'll end up getting yourself hurt and this time worse. I was there and I couldn't protect you."

I let out a pained laugh. "You weren't there to protect me, Lily."