Chapter 5 With Broken Wings
Brumous
Sweet. Smell sweet. Not in kitchen. Here. In book room.
Seri says wait. Says stay.
She goes. I stay. Mostly good boy.
But smell! Yesterday smell came. Still here.
Not Alpha Boom’s cookies. Those gone. Stole them. Ate them. Very yum.
This smell hiding. Near wall. On book? No. Not book. Not paper. What is?
Soft. Thick. Not words. Not smell of Alpha Sharp’s books. Smell of something else. Something good. Something yum.
Want it. Have it. Rip. Chew. Eat. All gone.
But wrong. Belly hurts. Heavy. Like rocks. Like bad meat.
What Seri say when ate fake quack? What Alpha Boom say when ate gold rings?
Hmm.
Oh! Make come out!
Find corner. Hork. Hork. Hoooork.
Stomach twists. Book comes up. Good.
No. Not good. Belly still wrong. Worse. Worse.
Room spins. Wrong. Legs weak. Breath hard. Cold.
Seri? Where?
Want Seri. Need—
Fall.
Dark.
#
Seri
“Stay, Brummy. I’ll be right back,” I said, earning a woof from the wolf sprawled across the Persian rug.
As I padded down the hallway toward the bathroom, three voices drifted out from the armory. My husbands were planning tomorrow’s hunt, discussing strategy, target locations, and contingency plans.
I pressed my lips together, staring down at my hands.
They looked the same as they always had.
Small, pale, with a scattering of freckles across the knuckles, but I knew what they could do now.
The ward I was working on was complex, requiring hours of research and practice, but I was making progress.
And I was learning more and more about my magic every day.
“No way in hell is she coming anywhere near that place,” Casimir growled, and I slowed my steps, hovering close enough to eavesdrop without being seen.
“You told her that once she was medically and magically cleared, we’d take her on a hunt,” Koa pointed out.
“Yeah, no shit,” Zane chimed in. “She’s been practicing her magic every day since it returned!”
“I know what I said, and I meant it, but she’s not ready for field work yet!”
“When will she be ready, then?” Koa challenged. “Next week? Next month? Next year?”
“A real-world hunt isn’t a training exercise,” Casimir shot back. “One mistake—”
“So teach her not to make mistakes,” Zane interrupted.
“I’m not saying throw her into combat,” Koa argued. “But she could monitor communications from the SUV, be our eyes and ears—”
“Thank you!” Zane exclaimed.
“And what happens when something goes wrong?” Casimir asked. “When whatever we’re hunting catches her scent and tracks her to the SUV?”
“One of us will stay with her.”
“Then we’re down a fighter,” Casimir countered Koa. “She hasn’t been trained for combat situations. She hasn’t—”
It was always the same argument, rehashed a hundred different ways. Casimir thought I was too inexperienced. Zane wanted a safe, easy hunt to give me a chance to prove myself. And Koa understood my need to do something, but he worried himself sick over my safety.
I wasn’t naive. I knew I wasn’t ready to pick up a weapon and charge into battle. My strengths lay elsewhere, but there were so many ways I could help if they’d let me!
I leaned my forehead against the wall. They loved me, and I loved them, but all this arguing was making me question myself. Made me wonder if I would always be their damsel in distress, their liability.
I needed to go into the field with them so I could learn how they functioned as a team. I needed to see how I might fit into their dynamic. I needed to know I could be part of this life, not just someone they had to protect from it.
And I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t worthless, wasn’t a victim, wasn’t broken…
“Look at this little dove with broken wings.”
Claudio Kane’s voice whispered from my memory, and I staggered back, my breaths coming sharp and fast.
Stuck halfway in the past, I hardly noticed my feet carrying me to the bathroom, my original destination. It wasn’t until I heard Zane call my name that I fully snapped back to the present.
“Seri? You okay, honey? Your heartbeat’s racing.”
Hand on the bathroom door, I nearly stopped at his unspoken plea for me to talk to him, but I needed a moment to myself.
It didn’t help that my period had my hormones all over the place, and I didn’t want to cry in front of them again, so I did the only thing I could.
I stepped inside and locked the door behind me, pretending I hadn’t heard him.
Pretending my heart didn’t ache at the sound of his sigh, at the soft thud of what could only be his forehead hitting the door in frustration before his footsteps went back down the hall.
As I took care of my business, a small voice at the back of my mind whispered that maybe Casimir was right. Maybe I wasn’t ready. But I pushed it away. I would never be ready if I never tried.
Washing my hands, I took one last look at myself in the mirror and squared my shoulders.
“You are not helpless anymore,” I told my reflection. “You are not weak anymore. You are not worthless.”
Taking a deep breath, I unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom.
They were waiting for me, of course, and had probably heard every word of my pep talk.
Casimir with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed, the picture of immovable disapproval.
Koa, silent and watchful, his dark eyes seeing straight through to my soul.
And Zane, fidgeting like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, apology written all over his face.
My Zoodle was such a tattletale.
“C’mon, moonbeam,” he coaxed. “We’re gonna work it out, I promise. We just gotta make sure everything’s airtight, yeah?”
“Serafina,” Casimir ground out, “you are not worthless. Neither are you weak. You were never either.”
I shrugged and wiggled between their giant bodies.
Being married to three dhampirs was like living with a wall of muscle that followed you everywhere.
I headed back to the library to continue the research I’d been doing before my bathroom break.
Behind me came the shuffle of boots as they fell into step, three powerful predators trailing in my wake like lost puppies.
Despite everything, I bit back a smile. For all their supernatural strength and tactical brilliance and special talents, my husbands could be adorably predictable. They hated when I was upset with them almost as much as they hated the idea of me being in danger.
It was a delicate balance, loving a trio of overprotective men. They’d been trained from childhood to face the darkest evils without flinching, but me getting a paper cut sent them into crisis mode.
One step at a time, I told myself. First, I’ll convince them to let me help in some small way. Then next time, maybe I’ll get to actually use some of this magic bubbling inside me.
#
When I entered the library, I didn’t see Brumous where I’d left him, and unease rippled through my chest. Despite his size, he moved silently when he wanted to, but he rarely left my side willingly. Plus, I’d told him I’d be right back, and I knew he understood that.
“Brummy?” I called. No answering woof. No click of claws. Nothing. “Did one of you let him out?”
“No, beloved,” Koa rumbled, and Casimir shook his head.
A sliver of worry wormed its way into my chest. Brummy wasn’t one to wander off.
“Maybe he went to get a drink?” Zane suggested. “Or raid the kitchen—”
“What’s that sound?” Koa interrupted, his head tilting slightly in that predatory way they all had when they caught something beyond human hearing.
I held my breath, straining my ears. At first, I heard nothing. Then a faint whimpering, like the sound a wounded animal might make, coming from the far corner of the library where ancient grimoires were stored behind glass cabinets.
Zane moved before any of us could, a blur crossing the room with supernatural speed.
“No no no no! Brumster, look at me!” His panicked shout sent my heart into my throat.
As the rest of us ran over, what I saw made my stomach drop like a stone.
My baby lay on his side, fur damp with vomit, his whole body shuddering with each shallow breath.
His blue eyes were hazy and unfocused, staring at nothing.
Foam flecked the corners of his mouth, and his long legs twitched and trembled like he was trying to run from something even while lying helpless on the floor.
“Brummy!” I fell to my knees beside Zane, not knowing what to do. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Zane pressed his hand to the wolf’s head as he tried to connect with him telepathically.
“He’s not responding right. It’s all static and confusion. Hey, buddy! Focus on Zaddy’s voice! Show me what’s wrong!”
Brummy’s only response was a weak whine as another violent tremor wracked his body.
“What the hell happened?” Koa demanded, looking ready to tear apart anyone responsible.
My eyes burned as I stroked Brummy’s fur, feeling the unnatural heat radiating from his skin. Whatever was happening, it was getting worse by the second.
Casimir shoved Zane aside, earning a snarl that he ignored, and pressed his fingers against the dire wolf’s neck. Then he gently lifted one eyelid, leaned in to examine Brummy’s gums, and even risked checking under his tongue, an incredible act of trust. One snap and Casimir would lose fingers.
“Tachycardia. Hypothermia. Pupils blown.” His eyes swept the area. “What did he ingest?”
“Look!” Koa pointed to something a few feet away.
There, half-hidden behind a bookshelf, lay a pile of slimy fabric. The remains of my mother’s stitch book that Arabesque had sent yesterday.
“We ran it through every supernatural detector we had,” Koa snarled. “Every. Single. One. It came up clean!”
“It was laced with something,” Zane barked back, tears streaming down his face as he cradled Brummy’s head in his lap. “Something we missed.”
“The symptoms are wrong for magical toxins,” Casimir pointed out, still examining Brummy. “No glowing veins, no arcane symbols appearing on the skin, no ectoplasmic discharge. This is chemical, not magical.”