Chapter 5
It seemed like a million years before Skoll finally pulled over at a trailhead, and they all bailed out of the stuffy truck into the cool morning air. How did humans stand being in vehicles for so long?
Scotty would never take Harrowgates for granted again.
The trail to the cabin was surprisingly well-maintained and wide enough to accommodate a small car. Jon said the cabin’s owner, Nathan, kept it up for his truck, UTV, and snowmobile.
Scotty took in the beauty of the landscape as they walked, so mesmerized by a crystal brook running alongside the trail, its shallows gurgling over smooth river rock, that she nearly tripped over a gnarled root.
“How well do you know Nathan?” she asked the guys, hoping no one had seen her nearly faceplant.
“I came out here once to interview him.” Skoll nimbly avoided the root that had almost done her in.
“He picked me up at the trailhead in a five-seater Polaris. Nice rig. Like, he lives in a shack with no running water but has a fifty-thousand-dollar UTV.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“He’d have given us a ride if we hadn’t lost contact with him.
One of us would have had to ride in the bed, though. ”
“I’d have volunteered to run behind you.” Scotty peered down an embankment at the babbling brook. “After that long-ass ride, I could use the exercise.”
Mace snorted. “She never gets tired, either.”
“That’s right,” Jon said, shooting her a lazy grin that must come straight out of the manual on how to seduce females, because Mace had the same smile.
She’d seen it a million times…just never directed at her.
“Your dad is one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Did you inherit his immortality?”
She nodded, still watching the creek, the water sparkling in patches of sunlight that penetrated the thick tree canopy. This place was gorgeous. She’d always loved mountains and wild forests. Beaches were nice, but there was something so tranquil about the woods.
When they weren’t infested by monsters, anyway.
“I mean, I can be killed,” she said, “but not easily.” She shot him a look she hoped he took as playful and not creepy. “And I have crazy good stamina.”
She wasn’t great at flirting, and what little she knew, she’d learned from her cousin, Leilani. That girl made a sport of getting attention.
Jon’s lips twitched in amusement, and his gaze practically smoldered before he turned back to the trail. “I’m sure you do.”
Skoll gave her a quick glance and a wink. “I’m not surprised, either.”
Yes! Confidence boosted. Her cousin Leilani would be proud.
Blade rolled his eyes, and she caught Mace silently mimicking Jon’s words. She gave him a sharp jab in the side and then laughed at his indignant, “Oof!”
“How far are we from the cabin?” Blade sounded irritated.
Jon drew to a halt, stopping them as he studied his wrist comms—a 3D map, most likely, but he didn’t activate share mode, so she could only guess.
“According to this, twenty minutes away.” He gestured ahead, where the trees thinned, and the trail snaked along a rocky hill. “Should be around that bend.”
Mace pushed past Jon, his attention on an ancient fir just off the trail. “Are we on Nathan’s property?”
Jon glanced up at the cloudless sky, his gaze following an eagle soaring overhead. “Have been for an hour now.”
“Guys.” Mace moved toward the tree, its gnarled trunk twisted into a display of arboreal agony. “Check this out.” He stopped at its base, his fingers tracing a swirly pattern carved deeply into the bark. “It’s a symbol. An Aegis ward against evil.”
“They’re probably everywhere.” Jon’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the surroundings. “Be careful. Aegis wards don’t usually discriminate.”
That was a lesson they’d all learned too well. To The Aegis, all supernatural beings—except angels—were enemies, from demons and vampires to werewolves and shifters.
“There’s another on that rotten stump.” Mace leaped over a fallen log with panther-like grace and started up the slope, whipping aside scraggly brush as he trudged closer. “The symbol is different.”
Skoll turned in a slow circle, his sharp gaze raking the forest and the trail ahead and behind. “The music changed. It’s ominous now. Be careful.”
Blade scowled at the werewolf. “What?”
“His music is like an early warning system,” Jon explained. Except his explanation didn’t help at all.
“I always have music in my head.” Skoll’s fingers skimmed over the machete at his hip as he continued to monitor the area. “Like an earworm, except the music changes depending on the situation. It’s like my life has a soundtrack.”
That would be awesome.
Blade disagreed. “Sounds annoying.”
Jon shifted to the rear, keeping an eye on the trail behind them. “You seem like the type who gets easily annoyed.”
“You seem like the type who gets punched in the face a lot,” Blade shot back.
Ooh, things were getting spicy. Scotty loved a good conflict, but maybe they should wait until they got to the cabin.
Skoll halted mid-step, alarm etched in his expression. “The tempo’s picking up. Music’s getting louder. More intense.” He spun around to Mace. “Mace. Don’t!”
Too late. Mace’s boot crunched down on a mossy log, and in a silent explosion, he went airborne.
His pained yelp was cut short when he struck a tree with the sickening crack of both branches and bones.
He slid down the trunk and hit the ground with a thud, leaving a trail of blood behind on the bark.
“Mace!” Scotty raced toward where he’d crumpled into a mangled heap in the ferns, fear clawing at her with icy fingers.
They’d all been injured before, had gotten way too intimate with near-death close calls.
But something about the way Mace lay like a broken, discarded doll terrified the hell out of her.
She crashed to her knees next to him. “Hey.” Holy shit, so much blood.
“I’m…fine,” Mace groaned, struggling weakly to roll onto his back.
“Hold him still.” Skoll shrugged off his backpack. “He’s going to make it worse.” He grabbed a first aid kit from one of the pockets and crouched next to her, just as Blade took a knee across from her.
“Blade,” she begged. “Do something.”
Their gazes met over their teammate’s writhing body, and her gut sank. Blade’s grim expression confirmed her fears. This was beyond bad.
He clamped his right hand down on Mace’s wrist, and a hot glow lit up his dermoire, starting at his personal symbol and flowing down the dark lines all the way to his fingertips. Mace hissed through clenched teeth as Blade’s healing power reversed the damage.
Tossing aside his useless medical kit, Skoll watched in fascination. “I spent a lot of time at Underworld General as a kid, but I’ve never seen a Seminus demon in action before.”
“I’ve never seen a trap that can do this kind of damage.” Sweat beaded on Blade’s brow, and his breath came in shallow spurts. The process wasn’t easy on him, either. It sometimes left him drained for days.
Scotty contemplated the trap and the utter destruction it had wreaked on Mace. Not an inch of his body had been spared.
“It was a bone-crusher spell,” she murmured. “Had to be.”
Clearly, Nathan meant business. She gave Mace’s hand a gentle squeeze and had to bite back a cry at the way it felt less like a body part and more like a bag full of the D&D dice the guys were always playing with.
“Blade,” she croaked, “how many bones are broken?”
“All of them,” Mace groaned. “Feels like all of them.”
“He’s not wrong,” Blade muttered under his breath. He glanced up at Scotty and mouthed, “This is bad.”
Oh, gods.
“Can’t…can’t believe I didn’t see the trap.” Mace groaned again.
“S’okay, buddy,” Blade said, calmly and confidently, in a great imitation of the deep, reassuring paramedic voice his dad used with patients. Patients he liked, anyway. Shade was more than happy to let evil demons suffer. Scotty had always appreciated his form of vigilante justice.
Blade slid his healing hand over Mace’s ribs. “Bone crushers are almost impossible to detect.”
Scotty glanced over at Skoll. “Please, tell me Nathan gave you a map of all the ward and trap locations.”
Jon answered from where he’d remained on the trail, keeping watch as they tended to Blade. “It’s at the cabin. We’ll have to be careful until we know where they all are.”
Closing his eyes, Mace swallowed sickly. “Think…I’m gonna pass out.”
“Stick with us, man.” Jaw tight, tendons in his neck straining, Blade poured more energy into Mace’s injuries. “This’ll only hurt for a couple more minutes.”
Hurt? Scotty had been the beneficiary of Sem healing several times in her life, and it didn’t hurt. It was straight-up torture. The worse the injury, the worse the pain. Her stomach churned with empathy for what Mace was going through.
“Are all Seminus demons able to heal like that?” Skoll asked.
“No.” Scotty gave the standard spiel for Blade.
At this point, she knew almost as much about their species as they did.
“All Sems are born male, and during their first transition, they develop one of three abilities. Blade’s ability can heal injuries, but not his own.
Mace has a different ability. He can’t heal, but he can tweak bodily functions in others.
Like, he can trigger the release of endorphins or slow down a heartbeat.
Blade’s brother, Rade, has the rarest gift.
He can get inside your head and make you see things or snip memories. ”
Rade’s gift was seriously scary.
“I’ve heard about Rade,” Skoll said. “He—no. No, no, no!” He lunged to his feet. “Fight music.”
Ear-splitting screeches filled the air, and a chill shot up Scotty’s spine.
Demons.
Jon cursed and ducked, barely avoiding being brained by a hatchet. By the time the weapon hit a tree with a lethal thunk, he’d already launched in pursuit of the hatchet’s owner.
“Dammit.” Skoll took off after Jon, a machete in one hand, a throwing star in the other. So much for being careful.