Jagger, more than anyone, knew how quickly reality could change, how much it was already changing.
He’d seen a demon, full on, and knew that they were slowly seeping through into the human realm. There was no other choice. They had to destroy the portal.
He looked down at Skye and murmured, “We’ll get it done.”
Jagger’s eyes closed and though he appeared to be resting, he knew exactly when Nico arrived, and he definitely wasn’t alone.
Quickly he rose to his feet. He’d wrapped Skye in a blanket and she lay on the ground, shivering still.
The tall warrior was quiet, and though he’d managed to find clothes, it did nothing to lessen the wild aura that shrouded his body. He turned to look down at the woman beside him and Jagger was surprised at the flash of warmth. She meant something to Nico.
The woman, Mary, was small, barely reaching Nico’s chest. She was Mayan, with thick dark hair that hung to her waist in an intricate plait. Her skin was wrinkled with age and the eyes that stared out through the dark at him had seen a lot.
They were the color of dried tobacco leaves and she pierced him with a stare that seemed to look right through him. The woman made him uncomfortable.
After a few seconds she shuffled forward, past him, and knelt down beside Skye. Her hands held two large bags. Jagger watched as she slowly peeled back the blanket, running her hands slowly up and down Skye’s shivering body.
She inspected the wound on her calf and then bent over her, sniffing around her ears, nose, and mouth.
Jagger was beginning to think the woman was loony, and when she carefully withdrew a long, slimy snake from the bag beside her, Nico had to physically restrain him.
“What the hell is she? A fucking voodoo witch?”
Nico shook his head, a ghost of a smile playing along his face. “Mary uses the ancient magicks. It might seem strange to you, but this is something she’s done many times.” Nico pushed him back. “You need to give her some room.”
Jagger’s hands remained clenched to his sides, his eyes riveted on the scene before him.
Mary hunched over Skye and let the snake slide from her grasp until it lay coiled in the middle of Skye’s belly. As the animal unfurled its length and slowly moved along Skye’s body, Mary began to murmur words and phrases Jagger had never heard before. And Lord knows, he’d spent a good bit of time among the Mayan and other indigenous peoples of Belize.
She sprinkled herbs, foul-smelling concoctions, in a circle around Skye and then rubbed something together between her fingers. Skye began to shake violently, and Jagger broke from Nico, his long legs carrying him to her side in seconds.
Mary glanced up at him and he stopped dead in his tracks. Her eyes were glowing, swirling rings of fire. She motioned to him and he fell to his knees, holding Skye still while the old woman cradled her face between the bony fingers of her hands.
When she lowered her head once more, Skye began to moan loudly and when Mary’s mouth closed over Skye’s, Jagger struggled to hold her down.
The keening sound that built from deep inside Skye was awful to hear. And when Mary drew away, spitting black, foul-smelling liquid into the dirt beside her, Jagger watched in shocked silence. Acrid smoke rose and every bit of greenery the liquid touched withered and died in front of his eyes.
The snake lay limp on Skye’s flesh, its dark green color fading fast.
Mary repeated the procedure, again and again. Eventually there was nothing more for her to draw from Skye, and when she was done, Mary fell back to her haunches, clearly exhausted. She wiped her mouth with a cloth, rinsed with a solution that was equally repulsive, and then turned to Jagger.
She didn’t say a word but her eyes spoke volumes.
“Thank you,” he said hoarsely, not really knowing what to make of what he’d just witnessed. His eyes drifted to Skye. She lay on her side, but her color looked healthier and the scent that had clung to her since the attack was no more.
Mary turned from him and grabbed the snake. He watched in silence as the carcass hung from her hands before she deposited it back into the bag. Without another word she crossed to Nico.
She paused and then spoke softly to the warrior, her hand gentle on his. When she turned once more to Jagger, her features softened and her large expressive eyes misted. She seemed incredibly sad.
She nodded her head and then disappeared into the darkness that lay heavy along the jungle floor.
“What did she say?” Jagger asked as he carefully tucked the blanket around Skye once more, thankful to hear that her breathing had returned to normal.
Nico had begun pacing again, his body coiled tight and his face dark. The energy that clung to him was frenetic and dangerous, off center. But then again, the dude was crazy.
“She called upon every god imaginable and asked for a blessing.”
“Great, I’m guessing she thinks I’m about to get my ass kicked.” Jagger grimaced. “Good to know.”