Chapter 28 #3
“Zari?” Roman said, looking as ill as she did. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t fight it. I…I don’t know what happened.”
She crossed her arms, not looking at him, her face red with humiliation or anger, probably both. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Her eyes flashed red. “Not ever again.”
Something flashed across Roman’s face that I had no hope of reading. He nodded.
I didn’t know how far things had gone between them—I’d been too preoccupied with trying to keep those awful creatures back—and I wasn’t going to ask.
Zari rushed to Kurgan to check on his wounds, but the big male’s sights were firmly set on Roman.
He looked as if he wanted to tear him to shreds.
Zari said something to him, pulling his attention away from Roman, or attempting to.
Fender limped heavily over to me, his expression wary. “Are you okay? I don’t know what happened back there.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Even my beast felt wrong.”
“It wasn’t your fault. None of you were at fault. There was no way of knowing what would happen. Pan is a powerful god. If it wasn’t for Kurgan, the goddess only knows what would have happened.”
The male in question grunted and dropped the bag full of weapons on the ground, then slumped, almost falling over. I rushed to him. “Sit down…please.”
He did without protest. “Will you let me heal you?” I said as I lifted my hand.
He grabbed my wrist with a growl. Fender was beside us in a flash, fangs bared. I ignored him. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a healer. I know you heal fast, but some of these look really deep.”
He shook his head. “Only one female, my female…” He looked at Zari. “And my sister, can touch me.”
“No problem,” I said. “I can do this without actually touching you.” It didn’t seem prudent to point out I’d been slung over his shoulder a short time ago. The no-touching thing seemed very important to him right then.
He sniffed, and I thought he might be scenting me for a lie. I wasn’t sure if that were possible, but that’s how it seemed.
He nodded, giving me the go-ahead, and I raised my hand again, this time hovering it over the worst of the cuts and forcing my magic into the wounds, knitting the flesh, and muscle and, in some cases, organs back together.
Whatever had made the wounds had held a lot of power, and it took me longer than usual to heal the worst of it.
I had no idea how he’d managed to get us out of there in that state.
By the time I was done, I was trembling from the exertion and expense of so much magic.
Fender rushed to help me get up, when I tried and failed.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I am, now at least. You all had me so worried there for a while.” That was an understatement, but I didn’t want to make him feel worse about what happened, when he’d had no control over it. “Your leg, you’ve hurt it.”
“Don’t worry about my leg. Fuck, I’m so sorry if I scared you.” The look on his face was one of pure fear. “I’ve never felt so out of control in my life and never want to feel like that again.”
“We need to get these weapons back to Hell, where they belong, and where we can keep them safe,” Roman said, still casting concerned glances Zari’s way.
She wasn’t looking at him at all. Kurgan was standing again, looking much better, and his lips were peeled back in a permanent snarl, his gaze again locked on Roman. The male was a hair’s breadth from attacking the other hound, I could feel the aggression rolling off him in violent waves.
Fender stepped between them. “I think that’s a good idea.”
“Is there a small weapon in that bag?” I asked Kurgan.
He tore his gaze from Roman, and the red blaze of his stare landed on me. He nodded.
“May I have one?”
He fished one out and handed a small knife to me, hilt first.
“I promised Brigid I’d give her the weapons,” I said to Fender. “I want to at least give her this small offering for letting us through.”
Everyone waited while I ran back to the cave and slipped inside. Her apparition appeared again, swaying in front of me, and again, that confused look was on her face, before anger snapped into place when she finally saw me. Her hands flew up. “Leeeeeaave.”
“Your weapon, Brigid.” I rushed out. “It’s Matilda, remember? I said I’d return it to you.” I placed it on the ground in front of her. “I took it from Pan. This belongs to you, not him.”
The rage burning from her washed away, and her eyes softened. “You have returned it to me?” she said, and for the first time, her voice sounded normal, not distorted. Almost sweet.
“Like I promised.” I realized in that moment, looking into her eyes, that it wasn’t only revenge that fueled her rage, it had been fear. She’d been terrified. Without her weapons, she’d felt defenseless against the monsters who had killed her sisters, who wanted to kill her.
My heart broke for her as she reached down, her ghost still strong enough to pick up the weapon.
She looked at me again and bowed. “I thank you, Matilda, you are always welcome here.”
Then she was gone.