I reach for the safety of my own body, following Connor’s love to guide me home. Except, trying to get back is like swimming through tar. Gina’s body and soul are so starved for light that they cling to my being and try to drag me under. Panic tears through me as I feel myself slipping back into her dark abyss. Needing a stronger anchor, I extend beyond my body and, following the mate bond, cling to the part of myself that lives within Connor.
“Reina?” He audibly gasps, his arms squeezing tighter around my limp body.
Help!I cry out, desperately gripping the rope that tethers me to him.
He can’t hear my mental plea, but he can sense my distress, my fear rippling up the line. “Hang on,” he growls.
There’s thrashing and snarling near my new anchor, followed by the sharp jerks of being dragged upward.Connor’s wolf.I sometimes forget that my mate is not only the man but also the awesome beast that lives within him. Separate but also one. While his wolf tugs me home, Connor strengthens the line, weaving more of himself within our joined tapestry.
I scream when I first return to my body, shaking and terrified, and immediately let go of Gina’s hand. Connor scoops me up, his arms around my back and under my knees, and saturates our bond with a sense of love and protection.
“You’re safe,” he murmurs into my hair. “I won’t let you go.”
With my arms wrapped tightly around his neck, I bury my face against him, breathing in his comforting scent. “Is there a way to give your soul a bath?” I ask against his warm copper skin. “I feel dirty from the inside out.”
“We will find a way,” he answers in his soft, soothing voice. His words come with the sensation of hands stroking my inner being. His love is now more than a feeling that flows between us, it’s an actual presence within me.
“How did you do this?” I croak, mentally exploring as one might a marble statue that they have been gifted the opportunity to touch.
“I felt you slipping away,” he confesses quietly, pressing his lips against the top of my head. “I couldn’t let you go.”
“Thank you,” I whisper and hug him tighter.
“I’ll always come for you,” he assures me, returning the hug.
Daring to look back out into the room, I groan. “I still have all this to clean and memories to wipe.” I sense his displeasure at the idea of me doing anything more tonight, but I didn’t suffer all of this to only half finish the job. “We’re almost done.”
Connor reluctantly puts me back down, and once again asks, “What do you need?”
Chewing on my lip, I mentally search for any spell that could help me. My first thought is to make it all invisible, but I don’t think that will work in the long term. Just because someone can’t see it doesn’t mean they can’t feel it. Then I remember that frightening day back in October when our home was nearly doused in flames.
“I have an idea. It’s something my nan did with smoke, but I can try doing it with the blood. I’ll need somewhere for all of it to go though,” I announce, unintentionally sounding cryptic. “Think you can find me a bucket? Or a really big bowl?”
He answers with a nod and strides out of the room to hunt for what I requested.
Looking down at Gina’s motionless form, I sigh. “You’re a really fucked up person, you know that?” Obviously, I’m only answered with silence. Shuddering under the recent memories of being trapped within her, a modicum of mercy rises within me. Risking only a single finger, I touch her hand long enough to cast one more spell upon her. “Sleep.”
Instantly dragged into a deep slumber, Gina relaxes into the bed, her breathing slows, and her eyes fall closed. If she wasn’t covered in blood, she’d almost look peaceful.
Connor returns quickly with a large, white painter’s bucket from who knows where. It’s time to get to the big task at hand. Taking it from him, I hold the bucket like I’m about to splash the walls with water. In my mind’s eye, I imagine a video that’s running in reverse. Instead of blood splashing out of the bucket, it’s flying back into it.
I have no good words to guide the spell, so feeling utterly ridiculous, I quietly mumble, “Blood into the bucket… er, but just the blood that isn’t inside bodies.”
Connor snorts, clearly hearing my lame attempt at spell work. I’m tempted to stick my tongue out at him, but I figure concentrating on not having all our blood leached from our bodies was a better use of my energies.
Fortunately for me, it’s all about intent, and the mental image is strong enough that my magic quickly flows out to collect each tiny droplet. If I could forget that it’s blood, the visual is actually quite beautiful. The droplets condense into a swirling red liquid that spins like a small tornado funneling its way into the bucket in my hands. The process is thankfully quick, and when it’s done, I have a clean room and a full bucket. Knowing it’s best not to try and dispose of it here, I freeze the liquid into a solid for easier transport.
Pleased with the now spotless room, I waddle over to Connor and hand him the heavy bucket. He takes it with ease, because of course he does.
“Now let’s get out of here so I can wipe some memories, destroy remaining evidence, and be done,” I say while brushing my hands like I’m slapping dirt off them.
“Don’t forget phones,” Connor comments as we file out of the door.
“Right, videos recording tonight are bad,” I mutter, feeling extremely tired and drained. It turns out that my magic may feel infinite, but it can still wear me out to wield so much of it at once.
Apparently, when Connor helped Donovan out, he left an easy path to the front door, so frozen bodies are lined up like giant toy soldiers along the way. Everything about this night is so creepy.
It’s still raining when we walk outside, and I feel doubly guilty when I see the soaked wolves holding their position. Unfortunately, the rain is extremely useful at wiping away any evidence I missed, so I let the downpour continue, shivering in my camisole. Connor frowns at my trembling form, drops the bucket on the outside porch, and then strides back into the house. Moments later, he’s back with my sopping red hoodie that was left on the bathroom floor.
