Blood Kissed (Lizzie Grace 1)

Waverley was suspended in the air, three feet off the ground. The wild magic pulsed around him, a cage that rippled with all the colors of creation. Anger contorted his features and the black threads of his magic began to twist and tear at his prison. They had little effect.

He’d obviously used most of his strength on the spells that guarded this place; otherwise, he would not have used a gun against us rather than magic. And even though he’d fed from me, it had not been enough to boost his strength for long.

As the black threads faded and his spelling stopped, I took a step. But my legs felt like jelly and simply gave out. Pain reverberated through me as my knees hit the ground, and I sucked in air, fighting the deepening call of unconsciousness.

If I couldn’t get to Waverley, then he’d have to come to me.

“Loop the fishing wire around his neck and his feet,” I ordered. “Then bring him to me.”

Again the wild magic obeyed. Waverley was brought forward and then forced into a sitting position in front of me. The fishing wire appeared, and was quickly wound around his neck and his feet.

He didn’t say anything. He simply glared at me as the wire got tighter and tighter, until a gaping wound appeared and blood washed down his neck.

“Tie the wire off then release your hold on him,” I continued. The wild magic could not be involved in his death in any way. I had no idea if it could be stained by something as simple as holding evil still while I erased its presence from this place, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to take the chance

As the powerful rainbow somewhat reluctantly pulled away, I pressed the stake against Waverley’s heart. Though his shirt lay between the birch and his skin, it didn’t remain that way for long. As the material smoldered away to reveal his flesh to the sharp point, I said, “This is for Karen, Mason, Marjorie, and Anna. May you rot in hell for all eternity for the pain and the suffering you inflicted on them.”

And with every ounce of strength I had left, I shoved the stake deep into his heart.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t get the chance. His body simply burst into flame and consumed him.

But even as hell reached for his soul with eager fingers, the unconsciousness I’d been fighting finally overcame me, and I knew no more.

Epilogue

They kept me in hospital under observation for five long days. It wasn’t my arm they were worried about—even though the bullet had gouged out a good chunk of flesh that would result in a decent scar, it was still just a flesh wound.

They weren’t even worried about the blood loss—a transfusion had fixed that easily enough.

It was the damn vampire bite that concerned them—or, more precisely, the possibility of serious infection. Apparently, more than half of the people who actually survived vampire attacks subsequently wasted away within a couple of days.

Happily, I wasn’t one of those people, though I suspected the wild magic had a whole lot to do with that. Aside from being so damn tired I could barely move without needing several hours of sleep to recover, there’d been no lasting side effects from carrying the wild magic within my body. There had, however, been at least one physical change—my green eyes were now ringed by silver. A silver that ran with the colors of all creation.

If that was the only price I paid, then I’d gotten out of the whole experience very lightly. And if it wasn’t, well, I’d worry about that when the time came. Right now, I was simply glad to be alive.

As the sixth morning rolled around, they finally cleared me to leave, though they gave me a bucketload of antibiotics and orders to take it easy for another couple of weeks. I rang Belle to let her know, and then carefully climbed out of bed and got dressed. After which I sat back down and tried to curb my impatience.

Footsteps finally approached the room. I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. “About bloody time—”

The rest of the comment died on my lips. It wasn’t Belle who’d come to pick me up. It was Aiden.

“You,” I all but blurted, even as I came to an abrupt halt. His right arm was in a sling, but he otherwise looked as fit and healthy as ever.

A smile touched the corners of his eyes, warming both them and me. “Alive and in person, thanks to you.”

“Hardly just me.” My gaze dropped briefly to the sling. His arm didn’t appear to be bandaged, but that didn’t really mean anything given silver ate away at a werewolf’s flesh and muscle even as it poisoned their blood. “How bad is it?”

“They’re saying that if I keep doing the physical therapy, I’ll regain full use.” His mouth twisted. “I have, unfortunately, been placed on damn sick leave until that happens.”

I frowned. “Then why are you here?”

That eyebrow rose once again, but this time, there was only amusement evident. “You need a lift home, do you not?”

“I do, but Belle—”

“Asked me to do the honors,” he said. “I was indulging in a cup of coffee and several of those addictive brownies when she got your call. You’ll be pleased to hear the place is packed.”

“No doubt the gossip brigade is trying to figure out what exactly happened last week.”