An Apocalyptic Need (23 page)

The hunter stood several yards away, a mound of dead super-zombies piled up around him. He held his hands out in front of him, palms up, and silver-blue energy spun in a column that looked to be a dozen inches across.

Grimm stopped, watching as Grimes focused his silver gaze on the now gape-mouthed wizard.

“Hello, Joris. How are you?”

The wizard blinked, seemingly at a loss for words. Then he frowned. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Grimes.”

The hunter lifted a red-gold eyebrow. “I’ll bet you didn’t. How’s your maker? Oh, that’s right, she’s dead. You killed her didn’t you?”

Joris’s frown deepened and he looked as confused as his zombie army, which had started bumping against one another and lashing out indiscriminately. “Your daughter killed Edwige, Grimes. But then you knew that, didn’t you?”

Grimes smiled. “It wasn’t Yeira who hid within the raven and then flew away to lick her wounds, leaving Yeira and Edwige to die. It wasn’t my daughter who sucked the very energy from Edwige’s cells in a last-ditch attempt to live, Joris. It was you. You were the one who betrayed her.”

Joris’s mouth dropped open in a comical display of shock. “How could you know?”

“I never left her, Joris. Despite her ugliness, the horrible things she did, she was my first love. I was always watching. I knew everything.” Grimes took a step closer, his silver gaze flitting first to Cari and then to Yeira.

Cari sucked in a breath and her beautiful eyes snapped open. Several feet away, Yeira expelled a wash of air and sat upright.

Grimm held Cari’s gaze for a moment and then she murmured. “Set me down and step back, Grimm.”

He started to shake his head but she lifted an exquisitely soft finger, placing it over his lips. “I wish you to live through this, so I can spend the rest of my life convincing you that you are the love of my life.”

Grimm was speechless, but her green and gold gaze sparked with power and she had a determined look on her face that convinced him it was the right thing to do. He inclined his head. “I’ll hold you to that, captain. Be careful.”

Cari and Yeira stood and faced the wizard, their arms stretched away from their sides, palms outward. In Cari’s palms silvery light began to swirl, not in one palm but in both. A charcoal gray energy drifted like smoke from Yeira’s palms, swirling in ribbons that joined with Grimes’s energy and floated upward, meeting Cari’s magic high above their heads.

Their combined magic formed a five pointed star that pulsed like a heartbeat and grew steadily in size.

Joris’s horrified gaze lifted to that star. He shook his head and stepped backward, obviously thinking about trying to escape.

But the monsters at his back stopped him. Dozens of rotting, magic-infused hands grabbed hold of the little man, black claws digging into his pale, unhealthy flesh.

“No! Damn you, Grimes. You have haunted me all these long years.”

Gerith Grimes smiled and the sight sent a chill through Grimm. He caught Audie’s gaze and the big hunter shook his head, stepping closer to Yeira.

The legendary hunter was about to write new pages for the Sorceri folklore.

Grimes cocked his head. “Go ahead Joris, give me everything you’ve got.”

Joris cast his gaze around the cavernous room. In that moment Grimm realized the wizard’s problem. He had too much of his magic caught up in controlling the monsters. And, though he seemed to have lost some level of control over them, the energy hadn’t been returned.

It had gone to Grimes.

Grimm started forward, realizing in that moment that, if the legends had been even half true, Gerith Grimes was an extremely dangerous man.

Grimes turned to him. “Stay back, hunter. This doesn’t concern you.”

Grimm moved closer to Cari, wrapping his arms around her. She didn’t look at him, she seemed focused on the energy building between the three of them—father and daughters. “It does if you cover your daughter in blood with you.”

Grimes shook his head. “Hunters. Such narrow minded bigots.” He glanced at his daughters. “Focus on the dark, girls.”

The star above their heads spun wildly, dark silver power spraying out of it like water from a massive showerhead. The room became thick with it and the monsters started to fall, crumpling to the ground like rag dolls and then exploding into clouds of black dust.

He dismissed the first wave of muzziness, attributing it to too much energy use and weariness. The flashes of light before his gaze startled him some. The painful pounding of his heart surprised. But Grimm’s knees had hit the ground before he realized the death magic killing energy was attacking him too. His vision blackened and sound dulled as his organs started to swell painfully, pressing against his bones and threatening to burst.

Blood ran from his ears, his nose, his eyes. He hadn’t the strength even to stand. The ground came up and punched Grimm hard. Cold infused him. Grimm felt as if he’d been covered in a blanket of ice, so cold it burned the very flesh from his bones.

Death.

Grimm wasn’t sure he didn’t welcome it. He’d made a lot of mistakes in his life. He’d done bad things. But he’d always thought he was good at the core.

Maybe not.

Maybe dying in that way was the greatest kind of irony. And Cari would be free to love someone who deserved her more.

Except she didn’t seem happy about it. Her screams came to him through layers of pain and cold, his name frantic and brittle on her lips.

He wanted to tell her it was all right. He wanted…

He loved her.

Death would be his gift.

Cari stared at Grimm’s long, hard form stretched across the bed. She wrung her hands together, guilt like acid boiling in her belly. How could she not have known he would be affected by the magic she’d helped create?

What had she done?

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she took in the unhealthy gray pallor of his usually yummy chocolate-colored skin. He was so still, his long legs stretched to the end of the too-soft bed in the
Stellam
—the one she’d rejected in favor of a pallet on the floor.

She’d thought she was a warrior then. She’d told herself that warriors didn’t sleep on fluffy, soft surfaces. They didn’t nearly kill good people through mindless aggression either.

A soft sob escaped her lips and she stuffed her fist into her mouth, biting it to keep herself from screaming.

What if he died? She couldn’t stand it if he died.

She consoled herself with the knowledge that at least Yeira was okay. Yeira wasn’t actually reborn, Cari had learned, though she’d always considered herself one of them since Edwige had used death magics to heal her when she was a child.

A big, warm hand covered her shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry, girl.”

She didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge her absentee father’s condolences. It was damn easy for him to be sorry. He hadn’t just killed someone he loved.

Cari blinked. She did love Grimm. She realized in that moment that she’d probably loved him from the first. From the moment he’d been delivered to her on the
Stellam
and looked at her with frank, unapologetic appraisal.

“If it’s any consolation I’ve replaced the dark magics with light, healing him as best I could.”

She spared him a quick glance. “So you’re a healer too?”

Gerith Grimes’s handsome, unfamiliar face twisted slightly in a grimace. “I’m a bit of everything I’m afraid. It’s the curse of my gift. Dabbler of all and master of none.”

“I wouldn’t say that, you managed to kill the man I love pretty masterfully.”

Grimes took the hit as if he’d not only expected it but knew he deserved it, barely flinching. “The boy’s not dead yet, Cari. Give him some credit for being a fighter at least.”

She shook her head, gritting her teeth to hold back the screams. “No thanks to me,” she murmured. She looked up at her father. “Do we know who that was in the cage yet? The body?”

Grimes frowned and, for the first time since she’d met him, he looked sad…vulnerable. “I’m afraid that was Benlocken.”

She gasped as fresh pain stabbed through her. “No.”

“I’m sorry, girl. I know he was a friend to you over the years. He kept an eye on you as I asked him to.”

Silent tears slipped down her face. “What was he doing there?”

“I can only guess that he was imprisoned by Alcott for helping you escape.”

“That’s probably why Grimm was in the cage. He was trying to save Uncle Ben.”

The big man standing behind her stilled. “Most likely.”

“So what happened to Alcott,” she asked her father.

“He was killed when the Sorceri took the ship over. No loss to humanity that one. Did you know he was The Huntsman’s spy?” Grimes shook his head, clearly disgusted. “That was an inspired choice.”

“The Huntsman knew I was on board. The Council told him about my mission to get information on
The Directory and the rogues. Why would he task Alcott with the same thing?” Even as she asked the question she knew the answer. “He didn’t trust me.”

Grimes stiffened, anger fairly radiating from his big form. “The Authority is no friend to the Council, girl. It is an arrogant, distrustful group. You’d be best served to stay away from them.”

Fresh tears flowed down her cheeks as she looked at Grimm. If he lived, she had no intention of taking her father’s advice.

Grimes squeezed her shoulder again and then left her to her grief.

Crying softly for the loss of her friend, Cari was barely aware of his leaving. Benlocken Spence had been the closest thing to family Cari had. Until Grimm, she’d loved nobody else…cared about no one. But she’d found love. Finally. And she wouldn’t let it slip away if she had any choice in the matter. So she focused on Grimm, every bit of her attention given over to watching the slow, shallow rise and fall of his broad chest. Willing him to live.

~AN~

Grimm had already decided he would die. In fact, he’d given the effort everything he had. But her voice was a siren call, pushing him to return. The pain threading through it, the quiet sobbing, had all but wrenched him from Death’s cold, uncompromising grasp.

Damn!

He was vaguely aware of a second voice with deep, gruff tones. The voice made his pulse pick up, turned his death-like rest to something less than restful. Grimm had a sudden thought that Cari wasn’t safe. It was that thought more than anything that had him swimming upward from the thick, gooey layers of unconsciousness keeping him down.

But despite his worry for her, when his eyes finally opened it was to find her alone and stretched out alongside him. Her lithe form was still covered in the torn and bloody yellow dress from Dodge Town and her soft, strawberry-blonde head lay next to him on the fluffy pillows, the silky strands tickling his nose.

Grimm was reluctant to wake her so he turned carefully onto his side, barely stifling a pain-filled groan as hundreds of small aches and large pains reared up to assail him all at once. Capturing a soft ribbon of hair, Grimm rubbed it between two fingers, enjoying the silken feel of it. He hadn’t thought he’d ever feel her softness again, or smell her sweet scent, or feel the dance of her warm breath over his face. It occurred to him that he might be dead and in Heaven.

But he shoved that thought away immediately because it would mean Cari was dead too. He didn’t even want to contemplate that.

In her sleep, she wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips. Grimm could no longer restrain himself. Leaning closer, he placed his mouth over the sweet fullness of those lips, enjoying the way they opened to his kiss.

Grimm placed a hand on her hip and deepened the kiss, feeling the moment when she started the slow climb up from deep, exhausted sleep.

She opened her eyes on a gasp and gave a little squeal against his lips. The words, “You’re alive!” came out muffled and mushed but Grimm felt the pleasure behind them like a tug in his lower belly.

He laughed. “I am. Thanks to your father.” With awareness came the memory of Gerith Grimes sending spectral fingers of silver energy into him, healing and replacing the energy that had been ripped from him in that disgusting concrete prison.

She grimaced prettily. “Let’s not talk about him, okay? If it wasn’t for him you’d never have been hurt in the first place.”

Grimm had an innate distrust of Gerith Grimes. He didn’t like the man and he would have been pleased to agree with Cari on that point. However, her father had vanquished the wizard and the monsters the evil little toad had created.

Grimm had to give Grimes points for that.

“Agreed. I have much more interesting things to talk about anyway.” He skimmed an exploratory finger from the cute little dimple in her chin, down her throat, and into the warm crevice between her lush breasts.