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In the blink of an eye, reality returned and joy spread through her to eliminate the growing dread. One gilded wing twitched, a shiver rippled his strange feathers, and a fine gold shimmer disturbed the midnight black that surrounded them. The relief she felt course through her was systemic, it took root and grew to fill her up with purpose. In the next blink, both anger and twisted delight thrust her into action. As Nithe’s damaged wing shifted ever so subtly, screeching shrieks filled the ridge, echoing off the rocks behind her. Dark shapes flew in droves to their location from all directions. She spun on her knees mid-slide, thick black debris kicked up as she twisted and jumped to her feet. More cuts, more blood, but she barely felt any of it. Vaguely, she recalled Ballzy’s mention of weapons as she lunged and grabbed the bags, dumping the contents unceremoniously at her feet. She had no time for anything but haste.
Ration packs scattered, med kits too, she sifted through the clothing, and came up with two pistols, several boxes of ammunition, something that looked like a small baton, and a futuristic space gun, or a kids toy. Either way it looked awesome, so she picked it up and prepared to fire, hoping like hell it was already loaded.
Above her the sound of scratching reached her ears. Without hesitation, she straightened and raised the weapon at the same time her finger flexed on the trigger. Brilliant orange flames burst forth, reaching higher than two tall men, and incinerated the creature as it prepared to pounce upon her.
A flamethrower! How fucking cool was that! she thought. And Nithe, he got to do this whenever he wanted. It must be so cool. The smile which twisted her lips was a sure sign the party was just getting started.
One after another the charred and crispy remains of the monsters fell. Some into their circle, but most from the sky took the short way off the ridge. She was having so much fun she wanted to cackle like a storybook witch, no offense to her aunt or any other witch she knew, but she couldn’t hold the inclination back as it filled the air.
Hoarse groans drew her attention back to Nithe, he didn’t look good as he pushed himself up and promptly fell back down again. One wing hung at an odd angle, his strange blood coated the feathers and trickled down. As she watched, the weird, black soil seemed to suck it up, devouring it, even rising toward him in an effort to taste more, and just like that playtime was over.
The flamethrower was tossed aside as the more urgent need for a shield took hold. Her brow creased in concentration, she closed her eyes and held up her palms. Strain showed on her features as she struggled to build the shield she’d practiced as a child, making sure to include a floor to keep out the weird-ass soil, and any ground dwellers who might decide to rise from their burrows. A simple spell her aunt had taught her after the blood bond ceremony had been completed. Magic was more difficult here, even her shadows felt hindered, weighted down. Not bound, but as if they were mired in thick sludge. Finally with a grunt, the dome was complete.
Shrieks of outrage and thuds resounded as creatures flew at them, only to face-plant the invisible barricade. Some extra dim ones pulled back and attacked again. It was futile, really, she’d long ago mastered the art of an impenetrable barrier. Fortunately, the space around them was large and open enough to accommodate it.
Grabbing several of the med kits, she knelt at Nithe’s side and placed two fingers on the artery in his neck. Thank fuck, he had a steady pulse. She cupped his grime covered face with soft hands, her skin no less filthy than his. After placing his head gently back down on the clean barrier floor, she grabbed the first bag and checked over their supplies. Bandages, sutures, wipes, needles, syringes, several labeled bottles that did fuck knows what, and scalpels. Another bag held the first thing she knew she’d need. Alcohol. The good stuff too. Grey Goose, the French sure did know how to make fine food, wine, and spirits.
When she touched Nithe’s back, he flinched, his eyes flared, and his roar bounced off the barrier walls.
“You’ll need to clean it, lass, and stitch the edges back tae’gether,” he ground out, but the voice belonged more to the dragon than to the man. It told her more about his level of discomfort than anything else.
“Right.” She shoved a leather wrapped metal tube—she’d found it buried under a few bandages—between his teeth, and said, “Here, bite down hard. This won’t be very nice.”
“Never is, lass,” were the last words he spoke as she tipped the entire bottle of vodka over the open wound, along all six inches and between the exposed bones where the upper part of his wing was cleaved from his body.
Orange pus sizzled and the smell of sulfur singed her nose hairs, making bile rise in the back of her throat. But she forced it down, swallowing repeatedly. One lone tendril of shadow reached out and nudged a dark blue bottle closer, the tinkle of rolling glass drew her attention. ‘For Poison’ read the label. Her brow rose, the shadow nudged it again. Who was she not to trust them? She’d trusted them the moment she’d acquired them, that they were sentient and now spoke to her didn’t change that. Did it? No, it didn’t. She tore the lid from the bottle and once more went to empty the contents over the gash. Her shadows wrapped around her wrist, forcing the bottle back up and spun it around.
There, under the part about poison, in very fine print were the words, ‘One drop to slow it, two drops to heal it, three drops or more? Drop dead on the floor.’ Jezzie felt the color leech from her face. She’d nearly killed him. After all he’d survived, her impulsive reaction had nearly been the end of him.
Big, deep breaths, in and out, she looked out to the landscape beyond their little slice of peace, knowing they didn’t have forever. Monsters continued to bombard the barrier, more reckless and desperate than before. Eyes closed she counted to ten. She could do this. Help Nithe, get them to safety, and find a way back home. No biggie. All she had to do was escape the one place no one had ever managed to return from. How hard could it be? As she looked around at the monsters still pummeling the dome, and saw the soil underneath it shake angrily, she felt her confidence fade. Once the dome went down, all bets were off. They had weapons, yes, but their powers were sluggish, they were surrounded on all sides, and she wasn’t even sure Nithe could completely shift into his dragon in this Almighty forsaken place. Not to mention she couldn’t even make her wings move, let alone fly.
Looking back at Nithe she threaded the needle and took a big, deep breath as she held the edges of his wound as closed as she could. Seemed like it was a day of firsts all around. Hopefully she didn’t fuck it up.
Chapter 21
Every stitch felt like an eternity as Nithe waited for Jezzie’s shaking hands to be done. All he needed was his wing popped back in place and the skin forced back together. Once done, he could retract his wings back in so it could heal much faster. Not to mention it wouldn’t hurt like the dickens on an extremely bad day once they were away.
The moment the last stitch was tied off and cut, his wings snapped shut and melded into his back—more slowly than usual due to the injury, but at least they fit back properly—and his claws retracted. His shirt appeared on his body once more, though he hadn’t even noticed its absence. While fatigue weighed him down, his ‘face flat to the ground’ position really sucked, so he flipped himself over to his back, and stared at the fireworks raining down above them. His eyes widened, mouth open ready to let loose his flame. The instinct faded away with a gasp of surprise as the lightning and fire bounced back at the creatures trying so desperately to get to their next meal. Which, unfortunately, might very well be two hybrid angels on the run from the Almighty knows what. He looked over at his mate and knew she’d done this. Well, his Jezzie was just full of surprises now, wasn’t she?
He moved to recline against a large stone slab nearby and summoned his power to his chest. Nithe tried to call forth a portal, and received nothing but a zap of magical electricity for his efforts.
“Jez, lass, can you bring up a portal at all?” he asked.
“Well, fuck. I didn’t even think to try.” She chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Give me a sec and I’ll give it a go. I take it you didn’t have any luck?”
Nithe just shook his head as he watched her get to her feet, his blood still coated her hands. Pert nose in the air, shoulders back, thick red hair caressing her taut ass. He was gaining a fine appreciation for yoga pants, that was for sure. She rolled her shoulders, her full, round breasts thrust forward. The wrinkle of her nose became more pronounced, and with a disgusted grunt she placed a hand to her chest, rubbing a small circle over the same place he’d felt his own powers rebound.
“No dice, sweet cheeks. Guess we’re stuck here for a while. The barrier should hold up for another forty-two hours, but I’m going to need to recharge before I can put up another, and frankly there doesn’t seem to be much around here to help a hybrid like me out with that.” Jezzie’s features shuttered almost the instant the last word left her lips, before her eyes popped wide, she spun about with her arms out, and let out a squeal of pure delight.
“I’m a hybrid, I’m part angel, part vamp. Oh my gosh, this is so fricking exciting.” This time the squeal was almost earsplitting. But she looked so happy, her smile contagious.
“Care to share, lass?” Nithe put on a pout, just in case she thought about saying no. He’d been told, in his youth, he had a damn near irresistible one. Many a lady had fallen victim to his whims. Candy had been the currency of the day, many a time. As he’d gotten older, his penchant for candy had remained, but the women had become much more intimately inclined.
“Never been able to tell anyone what I am, not until now, until my powers fully came in. You’re the first. Aren’t you a lucky ducky dragon man?” her voice dropped into a husky moan right at the end.
He watched as she shifted, her thighs rubbed together, and her hands ran over her hips and stomach. Until her eyes latched on to the shimmery blood coated skin.
“Umm, Nithe?”
