Awake (13 page)

I kick with my left foot, connecting to the center of his chest. He reaches up, grabbing my ankle with both hands, and gives a hard twist. I hear a loud crunch and pop as the bone breaks, but before I can register the pain, my entire body flips with my leg, causing me to land hard on my stomach. The wind is knocked out of me. I struggle to breathe, gasping for breath as I drag myself up on my hands and knees as fast as I can to avoid being caught completely off-guard. My ankle screams in protest. Sharp pain shoots up my entire leg, causing me to inhale deeply and my vision to dim for a second before everything comes back into focus. My ankle is broken. Now I should be easy prey, but the fact he has not attacked me again tells me he is enjoying the fight too much to allow it to end yet.

Fine by me. I may have a broken ankle, but I have been trained to fight with more serious injuries than this.

Lifting my head, I stare defiantly into his eyes. He smirks at me as he begins to circle. His chest is covered in an impossible amount of blood. The cut I gave him is grave, but he does not seem to notice. Instead of pain, his eyes are alight with the bloodlust he is thriving on now. Before I can blink, he once again lunges at me, the fingers on his right hand bending to form a claw, ready to swipe at me, to cut me with those talon-like nails. I deflect his blow this time only to be caught behind the left leg by his sweeping leg and slammed to the ground once again, on my butt this time. When I glance up at his mocking face, I realize he is playing with me. My anger rises, and I narrow my eyes at him as I slowly get myself off the ground again. Taking a few hops back, I try to give him the impression I am retreating. He laughs out loud, the sound sending a shiver down my spine and making me cringe.

A movement to my left catches my eye, but I know better than to take my eyes off my enemy. Aware it is one of my friends, I growl a low
no
at them but do not take my eyes off the unclaimed. He tilts his head to the side, still studying me with a mocking smirk on his face. My friends are here to help me and protect me, but I want this fae dead like I have never wanted another. His mocking smiles and glowing eyes are causing the bloodlust in me to grow. He has toyed with me long enough; it is time to end things.

As I slowly reach my left hand to the dagger still sheathed on my thigh, I remember the sword strapped to my back. If I can get the upper hand for a moment, I can use the sword, and the fight will be over. He notices the movement and comes at me with such force and violence I am unable to match him. I lash out with my right hand but he deflects it, swiping at my left hand at the same time. His nails are so sharp they slice through my hand as if it were butter, causing me to drop my dagger. I glance up just in time. His other hand extends toward my face. Reaching up with my right hand to block him, I brace myself at the pain those nails will cause to my face and neck. Although I heal fast, it will not be fast enough to keep him from killing me.

The blow does not come.

From my position on the ground, I peer around the unclaimed and watch as Holly comes out from behind the trees, shooting an arrow right through his heart. An expression of shock registers on his face before the light leaves his eyes, and he slumps to the ground in death. I let out a shaky breath of relief before returning my gaze to Holly. She has another arrow notched, aimed my way. I know she did this right after she released the first, just in case she missed, but it unnerves me to see the arrow pointed at me. It takes her a moment, but she finally registers the threat has been extinguished and is able to relax. There is a slight change in her eyes, almost as if a shadow dissipates and they brighten a bit. She lowers the bow before placing the arrow back into the quiver.

I want to snap at her for taking over, and I am about to do just that when Thorne steps up behind her. The expression on his face tells me how bad I look. Suddenly the pain starts to set in. Looking down, I realize there is a puddle of blood on the ground at my feet, and then I stare at my hand. The tendons are peeking out of the skin, along with what I think is a hint of white bone. My ankle is beginning to throb, but I do not want to see the damage. If Holly had not stepped in, the unclaimed would have killed me. I was so caught up in my anger, as well as the fight, I lost sight of what was important: getting to Reed and Rho, alive.

I should have asked for help or allowed my friends to step in sooner. It would have prevented the amount of damage done. Having friends and working with others is still so new to me. Instead of being angry with Holly, I nod a thank you. She nods in return before stepping aside to let Thorne approach.

He approaches slowly and cautiously. By the way he is eyeing me, I almost want to ask if his cautiousness is because of the dead unclaimed or because of me. But I remember the pain in my hand and ankle once again. He is probably waiting for me to pass out. I pull my wounded hand up against my chest, giving him a weak smile. The wounds are bad, but for now they can wait. Thorne draws closer to the dead fae, who is lying face-down about two feet in front of me with the end of an arrow protruding out of his back. Weapon in hand, Thorne uses his foot to turn the fae onto his back. Because of the arrow, the fae does not fall completely back onto the ground. Thorne shoves him harder with his foot. There is a crack followed by another snap from the arrow as it breaks. Only then does the body thud to the ground.

The lifeless eyes of the unclaimed fae stare back up at us. His eyes are still that blue-black color and dark as night, but the blood has begun to drain from his body, causing the deep red of his bloodshot eyes to lessen, giving the black a deeper, more sinister look. I feel rather than hear the others approach slowly, still aware of our surroundings and staying alert to any other danger that may present itself.

Willow approaches on my left side, taking my cradled hand into both of hers. I do not protest, knowing she is not just concerned, but able make an herbal remedy to help me heal even more quickly than usual. A wound like this would take a good night's sleep to heal well but, unfortunately, we do not have that kind of time. I'll greatly appreciate anything she can do to speed the process and lessen the pain.

She examines the wound gently and methodically. “We need to clean and wrap it as soon as possible. I can use some things in my bag for that. I also need to examine your ankle. We'll need to set it so it can heal fast. Come with me—the sooner this is done, the sooner we can be on our way.” I stare at the fae lying lifeless on the ground, but Willow pulls my attention back to her, sensing my thoughts. “They can take care of him. We need to take care of
these
, or you'll be of no use for the rest of the mission.” She knows exactly what to say to get me to listen to her when I would otherwise argue.

Gideon hears her and speaks up as well. “We'll dispose of his body and make sure there's no sign we were in the area. Allow Willow to tend your wounds then we can go. This fight has cost us some time. We can't afford to lose much more.”

“Yes. You are right." I turn to Willow. "Make sure you spell the area so we are not sensed by any others. We do not need a herd of unclaimed fae after us.”

“Very good.” Gideon pivots away, wasting no time to carry out the task, giving direction to both Holly and Thorne. I observe my group for a moment, watching Gideon
lead
the way any good leader would. He knows precisely what to do and how to go about doing it so the others do not feel as if they are being commanded. They work as a team, Gideon working as hard as they do. I make a mental note for later. I am sure the queen is aware of his ability, but it would not hurt to bring it to her attention. She would be wise, as a leader, to keep him close.

Willow tugs at my arm, and I follow her to a nearby tree. “Sit,” she says in a no-nonsense voice.

I sit.

“Now, give me your hand.”

I stretch my hand toward her once again.

She has already pulled out a bottle of water and a strip of bark from her satchel. As she pours the water over my hand, I let out a small hiss in pain. Willow glances up at me out of the corner of her eye, lifting her eyebrow. I shrug, knowing I have suffered worse before, but it still hurts. Once she washes the blood away, I am finally able to get a good look at the wound.

It is deep, revealing the bones in three of the four fingers. If there had been a bit more force behind the blow, it would have severed one or two of the appendages. I cringe at the thought. Willow
tsk
s before going still. Her eyes close in concentration, and again I sense the magic she is pulling from her surroundings in preparation for a spell. Her skin glows slightly, cheeks turning a rosy pink. I hear her whispered spell.

From a warrior's strength, to a warrior's pain, heal this wound, of a true warrior fae.

She blows the spell from her lips onto my skin. Thankfully, in an instant, I feel the skin begin to tingle as the tendons begin to knit back together, and the skin regrows over the wound. Within moments, there is only a bright pink, puckered line running across my hand. It is still tender and sore, but no longer bleeding or painful. Within a few more moments, it will be gone.

My ankle, on the other hand, will not be such an easy fix. This will be extremely painful, but the sooner she sets it, the sooner it will heal. Willow gives me a sympathetic look, reading my thoughts. I reassure her, “It is okay. It must be done. Just hurry, please.”

Although I calmed her, I still want to scream in pain when she sets the bone. The adrenaline pumping in my body, the will to fight and live, overpowered the excruciating pain earlier when the bone was broken. Now, with nothing else to distract me, I feel all the pain, and it almost causes me to pass out. Willow whispers soothing words as she finishes, then whispers the same spell she used on my hand. The pain takes less than a minute to fade to a dull throb, a minute more for it to subside.

I flex my hand and my ankle before turning back to her. “Thank you, Willow.”

“You're welcome. Now, let's go.” She puts her supplies back in her satchel, stands, swings it over her shoulder, and looks at me expectantly because I am still sitting on the ground, leaning against the tree, and watching her with a smile on my face.

“What?” she asks with a bit of exasperation in her voice.

I glance down at the ground, shaking my head as I get up, my smile growing wider. “You are one of the bravest fae I have ever met.”

Her eyes widen in shock, and her mouth opens to say something, but she snaps it back shut. She tilts her head to the side, brow furrowing before she finally speaks. “How am I brave? You're the one who fought against a crazy fae and almost died. I stood behind the tree over there, because Gideon threatened to tie me up if I didn't. Even if he didn't, though, I still would have been there hiding and scared.”

“You stood up to not only me but the queen as well. You demanded to come along on this mission. You did not care that you could get into serious trouble. You did not run when danger approached. You may have been behind a tree during the entire fight, but you stayed. Once everything was over, not only did you not cringe in fear at the sight of the dead fae, but you demanded I listen to you so you could heal my wound. You faced all of this and only thought of others.” I shake my head again. “That was very brave of you, Willow, for a fae who has spent all of her time in the kitchen or as a servant to me, and for a fae who has never faced danger or trained for battle.”

She lowers her face, but it does not hide the blush rising in her cheeks. “Thank you, Poppy. That means a lot to me.” She looks up, smiling, then launches herself at me in a hug, which almost knocks me on the ground again. I hug her back. Only then do I feel the tremors shaking her body. I squeeze her tight and whisper, “It is over now. It is all going to be okay.”

“I was so scared, for all of you.” Her voice quivers slightly.

“I know, but we are all fine. Now we must get moving. We cannot waste any more time.” Willow would not like for the others to witness her being upset, so I hug her until she can compose herself.

She finally pulls away and gives me a weak smile. “Thank you, Poppy.”

“Thank you
, Willow
.” I smile at her as I pull her toward the others.

Gideon eyes us curiously as we approach the group. His eyes wander, taking in my healed hand and the slight glisten in Willow's eyes. He moves to the other side of Willow, leaning close to whisper something in her ear. She giggles, and a light blush appears on her cheeks. He winks at her when he pulls back, causing Willow to lower her head. I give him a grateful smile over her bent head. He smiles back but quickly turns his attention back to her. There is a tenderness and softness in his eyes when he watches her I have never seen when he looks at anyone else. Smiling, I glance up to see Thorne and Holly both notice Gideon's actions too.

Thorne gives me a sly smile before turning serious. “I think we should get moving. It's not a good idea to stay in one place for too long, especially after what just happened.”

“You are right. Too much time has been wasted here. We will need to travel quickly the rest of the way if we want to get in, out, and back home before dawn.”

“Are you well enough to continue?” This comes from Holly, and I glance up to see her regarding my hand with genuine concern. She looks up when I do not answer and scowls at me before turning away. “I just want to make sure you can hold your own in our next fight.”