Between the Bleeding Willows (The Demon Hunters Series Book 1) (23 page)

“Keep it together, Cassidy. He needs you to do this for him.” I set down the pink saline- and blood-soaked towels and took a few deep calming breaths. “Now we need the gauze…the yellow one.”

“Doesn’t he need a skin graft or something?”

“We are not set up for that, and only the outermost layer or two are gone. I think with what we have, he’ll regen his own skin and recover. Now get the gauze.”

I grabbed the yellow roll of gauze.

“Now, Serena said no washing the wound till there is some skin. This next part that you will do, will need to be done twice a day. Start by wrapping the gauze once around lightly.”

I began at his elbow and wrapped his intact skin, then carefully made my way down his arm. He clenched and winced with pain. My hands begin to shake.

“He’s okay. You got this.” Killian looked at me and nodded. Lena handed me the paste. “Apply this with very light pressure.”

Killian focused on breathing.

“If I hurt you, tell me okay?” I asked.

He nodded and resumed his careful breathing. I dunked two fingers into the paste and began spreading it from his elbow down toward his wrist. My fingers became numb, either from nerves or the ointment. When I finished, Lena told me to wash my hands thoroughly with soap and water. They felt so strange, unable to differentiate between hot or cold water. Scrubbing the entire surface helped, and slowly, my nerves kicked back to life. I returned to the living room pinching my thumbs and forefingers together.

Lena giggled at me. “Looks like Serena put a numbing agent into the paste to help Killian’s pain and make it easier for you to bandage. Feels weird, doesn’t it?” I nodded and pinched once more. “Okay, last round of gauze.” She handed me the roll, and I went to work covering the strange paste.

Next, Lena measured out each tincture and set out four medicine cups for Killian to drink. “After this, you get some real food.” She turned toward me. “One teaspoon, once a day for the tinctures, except the green one is two teaspoons twice a day.”

“I’m not hungry,” he protested.

“You’re going to eat and I don’t wanna hear it. You need your strength to get well.” Lena handled that nicely and Killian remained quiet.

Hank brought over bowls of tomato and vegetable soup, along with grilled cheese sandwiches. It smelled delicious and looked wonderful.

As we ate and force-fed Killian, I asked Hank about his story. “So Hank, who are you and how did you get involved with these guys?”

“The short answer…I’m your dad and they found me in a cabin in Union Pier, Michigan.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Come on, tell the truth.” My brain was trying to do the math to determine if he was old enough to be my father or not.

Killian sat up. “Cass, it’s true. Angeline tracked you to two locations. I sent a team to Winnetka, while I took a team to Michigan and found Hank. He’s the last survivor of the Great Battle that happened over twenty years ago. I believe he is your father.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

“Of course, you are probably wondering how I met your mom. She was a stunning woman and from the moment I met her, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.” He looked at my face and smiled. “You have her eyes.” He set his bowl on the table and continued. “Anyway, I met Clara at a bar a few months after the Great Battle. I had been laying low so that the demons would believe that no warriors survived the fight, but more importantly, I had Rya’s ring and was hiding it.

“But I got lonely, living out in a cottage. Occasionally I chased away the blues at the local watering hole. Clara worked every Friday night waiting tables and was the kindest being I had ever met. She’d smile and chat with me, and I enjoyed her company. I started coming in on other days of the week just to see her.” He smiled at the memory. “One night, I walked her home and we kissed. Everything changed after that. We became more…intimate. And we were both happy. But she grew attached, and I feared for her safety. I knew I had to walk away from her or she’d be in danger.” He shook his head at the memory. “But I couldn’t tell her why I had to leave. So when that day came, I gave her Rya’s ring. I didn’t know for sure if she was pregnant…The possibility existed, but it was too early to tell and she never mentioned it. Still, I hoped the ring would help in some way, since I knew it had healing properties. Maybe help her through the pregnancy and delivery. Plus, by giving it to Clara, the ring would be buried within the human population and Rya would have no idea where to look for it. I mean, what would make her think that a human had her ring?”

“Why did you never come back around, you know, to check on her? On us?” I wiped a tear out of my eye before he could see it.

“I couldn’t. I needed to hide away. From the ring, from your mother. I needed to not be a beacon for Rya to find the woman I cared so deeply for.”

“But what if Rya found the ring, wouldn’t my mom be in danger? Seems like a crummy plan.”

“I don’t know why, but Rya cannot track the ring, especially in the Human Realm. If she could, she would already be in possession of it. And I guess I felt that if I could not be here to help Clara with the pregnancy, at least the ring could help in some way.”

“Guess it didn’t help. She died in childbirth.”

Hank’s face saddened upon hearing this. “I don’t know what to say. Maybe she took it off in the delivery room. Or maybe it had enough healing powers to save you but not your mom. I guess we’ll never know. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to meet her.” Another tear fell from my eye. “I’m sorry, Cassidy, sorry you grew up without either of your parents.”

I nodded but had no words. I did not know this man, and yet he was my dad. I needed a hug but I didn’t think one coming from him would be comforting.

Killian interrupted the moment. “So what will you do now, Hank? Go back to Michigan or crossover?”

Hank cleared the emotion from his throat and turned to Killian. “If the Clan can use me, I’ll help out.”

“Good man. The Clan most definitely can use you.”

After we finished eating and said our goodbyes, Lena went over the treatment schedule once again and reassured me that he would heal well. Lena planned to return in two weeks to check on us. Hopefully, by then, Killian would be ready to return to the colony and help rebuild it. Lena carefully hugged her brother, and Hank shook his uninjured hand, then I escorted them to the car. Lena drove while my dad waved from the passenger seat. My dad…so strange to say that.

I entered the back door off the kitchen. The fragrance of Hank’s soup still lingered in the air. It had tasted great, and there was enough for leftovers. Under the kitchen sink, I stored old empty food containers. Grabbing the large cottage cheese tub, I began ladling in the soup. The soup pot would need to soak in soapy water so the oils from the soup could dissolve. I filled it with water and squirted in enough Dawn to make it extra bubbly.

I’d started wiping the counters when I heard a sound from the living room. I froze to listen better. There it was again. Whistling. I had no idea Killian whistled; he had never whistled while I was around. I finished the counter and hung up my wash towel.

Tired from the busy day, I wanted to pour myself a Diet Coke and sit with my feet up for a while. “Killian, do you want anything to drink?” I shouted from the kitchen.

There was no reply. Maybe he didn’t hear me. I peeked out into the living room, there he sat on the sofa, softly whistling and staring off into space. The tune was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I walked over to him and placed my hand on his shoulder. He turned slowly to face me and stopped whistling.

“Killian, did you want anything to drink?”

He smiled and said, “No, thank you.”

Returning to the kitchen, I poured my soda. The whistling resumed, catchy tune. I swear I knew that song. I hummed along with the melody until the title finally came to mind. “Pretty Women” from
Sweeney Todd
. My God, how could Killian know that song? He couldn’t; most of the Clan knew little if any pop culture anything. I only knew it because it was Jace’s earworm.

The can of soda dropped from my hands, spilling onto the floor. I grabbed a bundle of paper towels and mopped it up.

“Looks like you dropped something.” Killian stood in the door way; his demeanor was different. His usual stance with arms crossed across his chest, looking pissed off and in charge, was replaced with his thumb hooked in his belt loop, leaning casually against the doorframe.

I gasped at the resemblance. “Jace?”

“What did you call me?” His mouth pulled up slightly on one side into a fraction of a smile.

“Sorry, how do you know that tune?”

“I’ve heard you hum it. Quite often, in fact.”

Could that be true? It was a catchy tune, and I’d heard Jace whistle it often. Maybe it was in my head as well. “Sorry, you must be right. Can I get you anything?”

“Yeah, changed my mind. I'll take a glass of water please.”

Turning toward the cabinet that housed the glasses, I took a calming breath. So much had happened in the last few days, it was wearing on me.

“Here you go.” I handed him the glass of water. “Want to watch a movie, take a nap, or…?”

“We can watch TV. I’m not very tired right now.” He waited for me to lead the way into the living room.

“Do you need more pillows?”

“No.” Using his good arm, he propped the pillows behind his back and sat up, facing the TV.

“I’m supposed to tattoo you tomorrow. Serena said you’d help explain how to work the machine.”

He looked at me, but didn’t say a word.

“But, I’m worried I’ll screw it up. I think I’ll call her later and ask her to do it.” Killian said nothing.

The TV droned on in the background and it wasn’t long before Killian fell into a deep sleep. He looked peaceful in his slumber as he purred a quiet snore. For such a tough guy, he seemed pretty tame and vulnerable on Gram’s sofa.

I had two weeks to care for Killian and get him well enough for a crossover. How hard could that be? Besides feeding him, keeping him comfortable, changing his arm bandage, and dosing his medicines, there wasn’t much more to do. Killian stirred and rolled onto his side, away from me.

He had such a strong reaction when he saw the tattoo Tyler placed on me. And although I think he overreacted, I could also understand why he might feel the way he did. After all, he went from being bonded to me and knowing my emotions, to being cut off and replaced. That’s a knock to one’s ego. Hopefully he could look past it and see the situation for what it really was…Tyler saving me. All of that angel blood plus the power from Rya’s ring…I was breaths away from dying. Serena had said it created a cancer within me. Tyler did the only thing he could think of to save me, remove one of the sources of power…the Clan tattoo that bound me to Killian.

The new star tattoo on my wrist, binding me to Tyler, was placed on me to help me survive whatever Hell Rya had planned for me. Thankfully Killian and his crew fought hard to save me.

And Jace, forever lost to the darkness since consuming Siggy and Angeline’s souls, was a terrible new threat with his telekinesis gift.

Killian needed to heal fast so he could be ready to face them once again. The numbers were not in his favor. Losing a Caster and Necromancer meant spells on the demon binding chamber and gates would soon weaken. When they finally did wear off, demons would be free to charge the gates into the Human Realm, bringing Hell to Earth.

At least the Demon Hunters had gained my dad. It was such a small world, how connected we were to each other, but I guess when you dealt with magic and mysticism, there were forces that drew us together. Hank didn’t seem like dad material. Rather, he seemed like an older Clan member who happened to know a lot of my history. Maybe one day that would change, and we would grow closer.

***Sneak Peek***

Within the Darkest Hollows

The Demon Hunter Series, Book 2

Chapter One

Cassidy

Several hours passed with Killian still asleep. Pizza sounded good, so I ordered from Fox’s Pub. Hopefully Killian liked mushroom and sausage on his pizza. “Hey Killian, pizza will be here shortly.”

He rubbed at his eyes and yawned, then sat up on the couch, quickly pulling the comforter tight around him. “God, it’s cold in here.”

Oh no. I wasn’t cold at all. “I’ll get a thermometer.” When I returned with the device and some Advil, I checked his temperature: 100.5 F.

“Well?”

“Well, you have a low grade temperature. I think I should call Serena.”

“No. I’m okay. Let’s just wait till the morning. If it gets worse you can call, but let’s give it some time. It could just be my body trying to heal,” Killian urged me.

“Okay, I’ll recheck in a few hours. Till then, take two of these.” I plopped two Advil on his palm. “I wish we could tattoo you now to help the healing, but I promised Lena I’d wait till tomorrow.”

After pizza and a movie, I rewrapped Killian’s arm and re-dosed his medicine. Then I helped him into the downstairs guest bedroom and tucked him into bed. “Don’t be alarmed if I check on you at night to monitor your temperature. And if you need me, just yell. I’ll just be up the stairs with my door open.”

“Thanks, Cassidy.”

Switching the light off, I returned, “You’re welcome, Killian. Goodnight.”

I fell into the deepest sleep—a lucid sleep, the kind where the edges of reality and dreaming are blurred.

My hands were held fast to my sides; I couldn’t move them even an inch. Killian loomed over me. His face held no emotion; he just stared and studied my face.

Was I dreaming? “Killian, what is it?”

His fingers squeezed my wrist, nails biting at my flesh.

“Ow, stop!”

He pulled back, his fingers released their hold on me. The room was dark but there was enough light for me to see his eyes; they were so empty, like he wasn’t in his body. He stood and walked out of my room without a word.

I lay there stunned, still immobile from my sleep state.

“Cassidy!” There was panic in Killian’s voice from the lower level. I bolted out of my room and down the stairs to his room. He sat on the edge of the bed staring at his hands in his lap.

“Killian, are you okay?” I knelt next to him and took his hands in mine. His frantic eyes met mine. What was going on?

“I don’t know.” The bandage was ripped off his wound; pieces of it lay on the floor next to his feet.

“What did you do? What happened?”

“I had a terrible dream. You were lying there, so peaceful in your sleep. I had to get closer, so I did. But your eyes opened, you were in pain. Then my body became so light, I floated a few inches from the ceiling, but I couldn’t get down.” He rubbed his eyes. “These damn medicines are messin’ with my mind.” His head shook.

“Do you remember taking this off?” I held a shredded bandage in my hands.

His eyes widened and he looked to his injured arm that was seeping blood. “No.”

“Does it itch? Sometimes when things heal they itch, and you could have peeled it off in your sleep for relief.”

“Honestly, it hurts to have the air on it. The bandage was actually soothing.”

“Yeah, and it’s still bleeding some. Let me go get what I need to rewrap it.” Killian bent and helped collect the bandage scraps.

“Sorry to wake you, Cass.”

“No, no worries. That’s what I’m here for.” I threw the scraps in the kitchen garbage and went to the sink to scrub my hands clean. The hot water called attention to my wrists. Upon closer inspection, I saw the slightest fingernail imprints on both wrists.

“Cassidy, need any help?”

“No, I’m coming.” Maybe the meds were making him sleepwalk. I might have to lock him in his room so he doesn’t harm himself. Or me. Grabbing the bin of supplies, I headed toward his room.

Once he was bandaged, I got Killian a glass of water. “You know, I had a weird dream too…you visited me in my room.” He looked surprised, but I continued, “Killian, maybe the meds are making you sleepwalk?”

“What did I do in your room…in the dream?”

“Nothing really.” I didn’t want him to feel bad if he couldn’t control it. “But we might have to consider locking you in the room, you know, for your own safety.”

“Maybe.”

“Hey, how are you feeling? Any fever?” I reached over to feel his head.

“I feel fine.” He did not feel hot or clammy.

“Okay, well, try to get some sleep.” I tucked the blankets around him and turned out the light. “Night, Killian.” His clock read 4 a.m., still some time to get more sleep.