Read o f31e4a444fa175b2 Online
Authors: deba schrott
I shook my head to clear it, preparing myself to find seven magic-fried corpses on the ground. Only to find six dead enemies and one all-too-alive, crazy-ass woman running my way.
Shit.
Never would have guessed she didn’t have murdering me on her brain. And
that
was the other major downside to the spell, easy to forget because most Furies rarely cast this nasty little deathtrap.
Intention was everything with Raging Justice, and, like the Golden Rule, would only do unto them what they planned to do unto you.
My lips twisted in a sudden feral grin. I’d never been one to turn away from a knock-down, drag-out fight. My new opponent danced around me on graceful feet, feinting a jab here, a kick there. Feeling me out. Her eyes remained fixed on mine, never once wavering. She felt absolutely no fear, and that told me a lot right there. The other soldiers had all been human, of that I was sure. This one might look the same, but the way she moved, the complete lack of fear, no way she was mortal.
She struck so quickly I barely had time to throw up a block. Her fist met my head in a surge of strength that sent me spinning. No time to lose my balance because she followed, raining blows and kicks as my body spun. I grunted with each blow, shocked at the pain, but I’d picked up a new move from watching Red. I dropped straight to the floor.
She skittered against the damp wood but was too late to stop. I rammed against her legs, bringing her down alongside me. Nemesis and Nike hissed as I rolled onto her body and pinned her to the floor by straddling her chest. They slid off my back and slithered along her legs, threatening but not actually striking. I barely managed to hold them in check.
Heat sloughed off her body and onto mine, but I paid it little heed. Her eyes met mine, still devoid of fear. She struggled, but I was sucking in as much magical power as possible, adding it to my already considerable strength. No more taking chances.
“Who sent you?”
She merely smiled.
I smashed my fist into her right cheek, but it barely fazed her. “What are you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Fury?”
My other fist slammed into her left cheek. Pain flared in her eyes; yet she remained silent.
“How did you find me?”
Scorn tinged her laugh. “Mere child’s play with the company you keep.”
She was looking over my shoulder, so I risked a quick
glance. Scott stood several feet away, helping Red back to his feet.
I rammed my arm against her neck and pushed. “No way he’d betray me. You’re just fucking with my mind.” My arm began to tingle where her bare neck touched it. She felt even hotter now than she had a few moments before. I frowned. What the hell?
Both her breath and voice grew ragged. “Suit yourself, Fury. It’s your life to lose.”
Nemesis and Nike wound themselves along my waist, complaining bitterly about the sudden heat.
“Why are you so—” The satisfaction in her eyes triggered a realization. I knew exactly what she was—and why Raging Justice had not killed her.
I coldcocked her, sending her straight to unconsciousness, but that wouldn’t matter. She’d already tripped the trap.
Scott’s eyes widened when I grabbed him by the arm and took off running, yanking Red along with us as we passed him by.
“What in tarnati—”
Red’s protest halted as a concussion of heat swept over our backs. He and Scott looked over their shoulders at the woman’s body and gasped before picking up speed. I didn’t look, but I knew what they saw. Her body gone up in flame, flares of magic and bursts of fire shooting wildly in every direction.
“Shit.” Scott panted. “This place is gonna blow before we make it to the door.”
“No it’s not.” I smiled grimly. “Hold on.” I swept them both into my arms, cradling them against my body as if they were children. Nemesis and Nike wrapped themselves around the two men at my urging, granting them both a measure of magical. immunity to the fire going haywire around us. I channeled one of the wild streaks of energy, shoving it straight toward the wall ahead of us. Bricks burst outward and a huge hole gaped in front of us. We were several stories up, but it didn’t matter. I ran straight for the hole, panting with the exertion of carrying two full-grown men without magical augmentation (Fury strength went only so far), and then magic shrieked behind us as the creature’s body hit critical mass and exploded.
My wings unfurled with a snap and I launched us out of the hole I’d created. We plunged toward the ground several dozen feet below, my wings flapping furiously to slow our descent. I couldn’t redirect the energy used to keep us from going up in flames to deal with Scott and Red’s extra weight, and the ground was hurtling toward us at an alarming rate.
“Brace yourselves,” I grated out. “This is going to hurt.”
I flipped around at the last minute, wrapping my wings around them so I could take the brunt of the impact. Scott would have been able to handle it, but not Red. We hit seconds later, just in time to watch a firestorm roar out of the hole we’d vacated and spread downward, eating up each floor of the building in no time flat.
“Fucking Phoenixes,” I mumbled, then gave in to the darkness sucking me under.
MY KNEE WAS ON FIRE, PAIN RADIATING OUT
ward, touching each and every part of my body.
I groaned and fled toward blessed oblivion once more. Tried to flee, but failed.
“Hold on, Riss. Baby, I’m here.”
Hands squeezed mine, setting off another round of pain. Tears slipped down my cheeks. I struggled to remember why I hurt so damned bad, and then memory hit. The Phoenix going kamikaze, incinerating the bandage protecting my injured knee, and then flying/falling several stories and slamming into concrete.
No wonder it hurt so much.
I forced my eyes open, jerking as the glare of light flooded them. “S-Scott?”
He squeezed my hands again but dropped them at my wince. “Sorry, Riss. Where does it hurt?”
My throat felt clogged with dirt. I coughed, cleared it, and croaked, “Everywhere.”
Voices murmured behind him, and then a figure I didn’t recognize stepped forward. “The Oracle will be here shortly.”
I stiffened. “I don’t need any damned Oracle screwing with me. Where’s Kiara?”
Scott smoothed my hair. “Protecting your family, remember? And yeah, you do need a damned Oracle.
Nemesis and Nike are killing themselves keeping you alive, and only an Oracle has a snowball’s chance in hell of healing all three of you.”
Nausea flooded my stomach. I shoved the sheet covering me to the side and gasped at my ravaged body. Then I caught sight of the worn-out husks coiled around each of my legs and gasps turned to sobs.
“They’re dead!” I fell back against the sea of pillows cushioning me. “Oh gods, I killed them!”
Scott took my hands gently in his. “Calm down, Riss. They’re not dead. Not yet. Which is why you need the Oracle. Too much internal damage added to the external for them to handle alone.”
I remembered the last time I’d allowed an Oracle to get near me and scowled. Nobody healed better than an Oracle—or screwed with your mind more. They just loved tossing out unwanted and unasked-for predictions that might or might not actually occur (prophecy sucked like that), speaking in riddles that hid truth inside enigmas. The Oracle who had been brought in to heal my deadly wounds after my first nearly botched Mandate had rambled on about dead people that weren’t actually dead holding the key to great treasure, and that only through healing broken hearts could ancient magic be restored...
Wait. Dead people that weren’t actually dead could
mean
a
dead people—the Sidhe. Great treasure could mean their immortality and magic, or Vanessa and the missing arcanes—or even all of the above. Healing broken hearts— well, that could mean mine for one, Scott’s for two, not to mention all the arcane families whose loved ones had been disappearing for the past couple of years...
My eyes widened. “That Oracle wasn’t a nut job after all.”
“She’s not here yet, Riss. Maybe you should go back to sleep until—”
“Not her,
him.
The one who saved me last time. He predicted everything, Scott. Vanessa’s abduction, the Sidhe, you and me…”
“Did he tell you anything useful like where to find them or how to save them?”
I shook my head. “Of course not. That would have been too easy.”
A lightly accented voice that would have sounded far more at home under the Tuscan sun echoed from the doorway. “I swear, arcanes are every bit as bad as mortals. You want a quick fix. Somebody else who can solve all your problems for you.”
An unfamiliar, olive-skinned woman came into view. She looked like a runway model: tall, leggy, wearing an ultrahip short dress that bared a lot of cleavage and several pieces of flashy jewelry. My lips pursed. She had to be the Oracle, but she looked far more put together than any of them I’d ever seen.
As if she’d heard me, she stepped across the room, shaking her head with each step. “Come now. Don’t tell me you buy into the stereotype.”
Scott patted my hand. Whether to comfort him or me, I couldn’t tell. “Stereotype?”
“Yes. That all Oracles are sloppy loons with crazy eyes who mumble all the time. That we walk around foretelling doom and gloom twenty-four/seven. Honestly, other arcanes really
should
know better.”
He relaxed. “So you
are
the Oracle?”
Her lips curved. “Yes. Though I had a fine time convincing your guard dogs out there of that fact. You can call me Gianna.”
She perched on the edge of the bed opposite Scott, eyes roving along my damaged body and the two serpents wasting away on my legs. Her face tightened. “What did you do to them?”
The accusation in her voice had my back stiffening. Which hurt like hell, of course. I tried not to let her see. “How about, what did the
bad guys
do to them?”
Her hand waved in the air. “You failed to protect them. Therefore, you are as guilty as the one who caused the hurts.”
I shoved myself to a sitting position, ignoring the agony pounding through me, and shot her the dirtiest look I could muster. “Listen, toots, if you think you could have protected another arcane, a mundane, two Amphisbaena, and yourself while fleeing a kamikaze Phoenix and jumping off a ten-story building only to slam into concrete better, you’re free to try and prove it. Otherwise, put up or shut up?’
Gianna blinked impossibly dark eyes. “You escaped a dying Phoenix?”
“Damned straight I did. And kept all five”—I quirked a brow at Scott and he nodded—”of us alive.”
My eyes fell on the girls again, and my voice hitched. “Can you help us or not?”
Her hands moved toward the nearest serpent. Nemesis. They settled on patchy, flaking snakeskin.
Within minutes, a soft green glow spread from hands to serpent. A low humming filled the room, soon followed by the scent of growing things. Of jasmine and magnolia, of pine and honeysuckle, of a dozen other flower and tree perfumes. Warmth spread through the air as well, a warmth that had me settling back against the pillows and closing my eyes. Damn, it felt so good.
Scott’s hand fell away, only to be replaced by Gianna’s once she finished with both serpents. I felt earth magic flowing from both her and the girls. My eyes shot open and tears welled once more when I saw them winding their way toward my chest, restored to their former hissing glory.
The gentle warmth generated from their healing flared to outright heat that danced between pleasure and pain. The Oracle pressed my body down on the mattress. Fire flashed from chest downward, searing every inch of flesh and bone yet also beginning to knit them together in proper order. I wondered for the twentieth time why something meant to save your life had to hurt even worse than the injuries threatening it to begin with, and then it was done, and pain faded away—except for my knee.
She furrowed her brow, hands moving downward and probing. Her breath hissed, sounding just like Nemesis and Nike, and she jerked her hands away as if scalded. “How did you do this? I should be able to heal
all
your injuries.”
I tried to ignore the flare of agony her prodding and poking had set off. “That didn’t come from the fall.
It happened earlier.”
“And why didn’t you tend it when first it happened?”
“Didn’t have time.”
Her cheeks flushed, and her skin turned nearly purple. “You didn’t—have time. . .“ For a moment I thought she was having a heart attack. “I’ve wasted my time and power on an idiot, apparently. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. “Yeah. I saved his life and my own—not to mention my innocent niece’s—by using magic to ignore the injury long enough to take down the S—sons of bitches who were pounding on us.”
Gianna shuddered, veins bulging in her forehead. Not so elegantly put together at the moment. “You’ve butchered your knee beyond repairing. Nothing I can do—and I am one of the best Healers in either the mundane or arcane worlds—can fix it. Nothing
you
do can fix it. How did you manage to flee that Phoenix carrying two grown men without falling on your ass?”
I jerked a hand toward Scott. “His sister is a wiz with magical remedies. She patched up my boo-boo so I could function.”
Her lips thinned into small lines of disapproval. “Well, I suggest you stock up on her remedies to block the pain, Fury. You’ll be needing them to function for the rest of your life. That knee will never heal fully, not after what you’ve put it through. Even then, you may well become a cripple.”
My hands fisted. No
way
I would become crippled. No freaking way. She had to be wrong, had to be lying to scare me. I’d used magic to ignore pain and injury before, and things had turned out just fine.
Granted, never such a serious injury, and definitely never something so screwed up internally. Usually they had been surface wounds...
“Look. Don’t think I don’t appreciate what you did for the girls and me, because I do. But for someone so concerned with living down the stereotype, you’re preaching enough doom and gloom for a dozen Oracles.”