Crimson Wind (26 page)

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Authors: Diana Pharaoh Francis

Tags: #Good and Evil, #Urban Life, #Soldiers, #Fantasy, #Supernatural, #Fiction, #Magic, #Contemporary, #Fantasy Fiction, #General, #Withches

BOOK: Crimson Wind
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As he expected, she appointed Ivy and Oak to the bed of the truck. Alexander took up his position again, fastening himself with the witch chain. Max took the passenger-side running board, punching holes in the door to anchor her chain.

“Still won’t go fast,” Steel mumbled.

Alexander was beginning to think he could not speak any louder.

“How fast?” Max asked through the window.

“Maybe thirty.”

She looked across them to Alexander. “Do we need blindfolds?”

“The others came through without them. They might be too busy to worry about illusions.”

“Then let’s get on with it. Get us out of here safe, Steel.” She squeezed his shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Alexander smiled to himself. Max had that effect. She was dangerous and scary.
Thank the spirits for that
. It kept her alive, and it was sexy as hell.

The truck rolled forward again. This time it did not stop at the ward line. Fire flickered through him as they crossed. Alexander hardly noticed. They were in the smoke now, and he could hear the coruscating howls of
obake
as they called one another to the hunt. His entire body tensed. There must have been hundreds. Thousands, even. They must have been gathering around the farmhouse, preparing to attack the wards. Lucky for them, their prey was coming out.

He firmed his hand on the sword and took a grenade from his bandolier, pulling the pin with his teeth and spitting it out. He heard the
ping
of pins hitting the bed of the truck as Oak and Ivy did the same.

The smoke swirled and moved, so thick it was like swimming in milk. Sounds seemed both close and far away. Steel murmured directions, talking nonstop to Peter, as if aware that the driver needed reassuring in the blinding smoke. “Straight ahead now, easy, steady, don’t worry if you hit things, they need hitting, go a little left, not too much, that’s good …..” His voice was gentle, as if soothing a frightened animal.

Then Alexander ceased to listen.

Teeth and claws boiled up at him. They leaped up to his face and arms, ripping and tearing. He battered at them with the sword. The truck swerved and bumped as it ran over bodies. There were squeals and shrieks and whimpers. Oak swore and went silent as he fought the swarming
obake
. Alexander heard the whine of Max’s sword and the wet smack as it hit flesh. A grenade exploded twenty feet away. Alexander tossed his. The explosions rocked the truck. Muffled screams erupted inside the trailer. But the grenades did little good. To be of real help, they needed to explode right beside the truck, which would blow them off the road.

Pain traveled up Alexander’s legs. He had not expected so many
obake
. He kicked and slashed, drawing his knife and swinging with both arms. Still, the creatures climbed on him.

“Faster!” he called to Peter and Steel.

The truck lurched, and they bumped and heaved like they were on a deeply rutted road.

“Hold on!” yelled Steel, and then the truck turned sharply. Tires squealed as they caught the blacktop.

Obake
fell away. Alexander clung to the frame of the truck to keep from falling off. He heard the patter of feet, and the ghostly hands of the
bakemono
caught at him without any effect. The truck swerved again, and Peter swore and coughed, as did Ivy and Oak. Steel continued his calm reassurances, his voice turning raw and raspy. Alexander’s throat felt like he’d swallowed acid, and his lungs seemed to bubble without letting him draw a breath. The smoke was thickening, and his chest squeezed painfully.

Human hands grabbed at him. Men and women alike. Dozens of them. They clutched at him, dragging him down. He fell off the truck. Shrieks of triumph sounded from a chorus of
bakemono
throats. Fangs and claws gnawed and scraped at him. He was being dragged along the ground by the witch chain.
Obake
wrenched at the witch chain, then followed it down to his waist to untie it. He wrapped his wrist in the chain, gripping it tightly in case they succeeded, chopping at them with his sword as he did.

Screams filled the air and fists pounded him. They grabbed his hair and stabbed at his eyes. He bit down on the thumb that hooked into his mouth. His teeth cut through skin and Uncanny blood spilled across his tongue. He coughed and twisted away. Another thumb jabbed his left eye, driving in. His eye burst, and blood and fluid ran down his cheek.

He cried out in agony and kept fighting. It could not be much longer.

Bakemono
straddled him. They had freed the witch chain from his waist and now clawed at his arm to make him let go. He used the sword like a club, battering at them. Every time one fell away, another solidified instantly in its place.

The truck veered. Alexander slid underneath, just in front of the rear tire. He pulled his feet up and bucked, knocking the two
bakemono
on top of him against the undercarriage. They fell away and screeched as the rear tire bounced over them.

Alexander panted. No more
bakemono
came to replace the others. He felt their ghostly caress over his body, but under the truck, he was safe. If he did not let go and if his skin did not completely shred away.

He held on with single-minded ferocity. His sword was gone. He reached up with his empty hand and gripped the chain. It was slick with blood and had cut to the bones of his wrist and hand. His body flamed with unending agony. Smoke condensed around him, and the
bakemono
pressed their wraith bodies against him. It was as if they’d poured lye over him. He moaned and clenched his teeth, clutching the chain with all the strength he had left.

How long that agonizing journey lasted, he had no idea. But suddenly the smoke vanished and the truck pulled to a stop. He gasped the clean air, too hurt to move. He felt like he was miles underwater. His head swam, and he could not let go of the chain.

Hands gripped him and pulled him out from under the truck.

“Holy fuck,” said Ivy in a shocked voice.

“Can someone survive that?”

“Oh, good, Oak. Suppose he can hear you.”

“Look at his eye.” That was Steel.

“I didn’t even know he went down.” Oak again.

“Me either. Mother of night, it looks bad.” Steel.

“Slick? Can you hear me?”

Max
. She called him Slick. That meant he could not be so hurt that she had need to worry. Otherwise she would call him Alexander. He nodded and made a whimpering noise at the fire that spiraled around his body.

“Good. I have to get this chain off you.”

He felt her yanking it loose from the truck. Then she unwound it from his hand, pulling it free from his flesh. Pain streaked through him, and he yanked away. She had an iron grip on him and didn’t let go. A few more seconds and he was free. His arm throbbed. His body throbbed. Nothing did not hurt.

“Over here.” He thought it was Maple. She sounded shaken.

“I’m picking you up, Slick. There’s no way to do this that won’t sting a little.”

She pulled him up and slung him over her shoulder. His head dangled down her back. It was excruciating. He could not stop the sounds that slipped from his mouth. Mewling, whining noises, like baby kittens.

“This way.”

A door opened and they went up steps inside somewhere. He was still whimpering. They turned into a space, and Max laid him down. It was soft, but he burned and burned.

“What kind of medical supplies do you have? We need warm water and towels. And sugar. He needs calories.”

Max’s voice was cool and deliberate. Alexander held on to that.

“If you like, I can tend him. I have some experience.” It was the witch, Judith.

“Are you in any shape for it?”

“I am better than I was. I will do all that I can.”

“Fine.”

He felt her withdrawing. “Max,” he croaked.

She leaned over him, her smell washing over him—sweat, blood, and pure Max. He breathed her in. “Slick, I’ve got work to do. So shut up and let Judith clean you up. I’ll be back.”

There was nothing to say, even if he could. She had her family to see to. And he would heal. He had been hurt worse. He was sure of it. He just could not remember when.

Chapter 18

MAX STEPPED DOWN OUT OF THE RV HER NEWLY adopted friends had arrived in, fighting the urge to puke. Alexander looked like hamburger. His crushed left eye was hanging out of its socket, his hand was half torn off, and what skin hadn’t been grated away on the road was covered with bites and claw marks. The
obake
had pulled him down and no one had seen it; no one had helped him.

Guilt fought with fear. No. She would not be afraid that he would die. Judith was a triangle-level witch. She was in miserable shape, but she could help him. Max believed it. She refused not to.

She fought to push her fear down into the cold place where she kept all her pain, but it wouldn’t go. It was too big. She couldn’t get her mind around it. She was being ripped in half. She’d never felt anything like it before. Nothing had ever hurt this much.

Tears burned her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. She wasn’t going to grieve; Alexander was going to live.

Gathering herself, she strode to where her family clustered in front of the truck. They stared at the white wall behind them and then at the Leshii, who had climbed down off the trailer. All but her father and Kyle, who were chattering in low voices, their excitement palpable.

Steel, Oak, and Ivy stood to the side in silence, looking at one another with vague smiles, their bodies stiff with pride. As well they should be. They’d fought a bloody battle and come out safe on the other side. Steel was wheezing, but was mostly unharmed. The other two looked like a stiff breeze would blow them over. Blood and wounds covered their arms and legs. They wore them like badges of honor.

Max checked the sky. From here, she couldn’t see the coming wild magic. But dawn was arriving all too quickly. The RV was light- and dark-sealed, so she didn’t have to worry about where to spend the day. One of Maple’s three Spears could drive it. That left the truck, the car she and Alexander had been driving, and a little SUV that belonged to Maple’s group.

She strode up to her waiting family. “Kyle and Peter, go into the RV. See if you can be any help.” Her tone brooked no argument. They hurried to do as she said, no doubt driven more by curiosity than anything else. Max bit the inside of her lip to keep her temper. They were like children at an amusement park. Neither seemed to understand how deep the shit was they were standing in.

She surveyed the rest. Tris was hugging Sharon close, and her husband, Paul, held Tory. The younger girl was crying, and Tory was staring, her expression set as if she refused to let anyone see her fear. Max liked her. Max’s mom held both of Kyle’s stepsons. They looked terrified and lost.

They eyed her nervously. Max looked down at herself. Her clothes were ripped to shreds and she was covered in half-healed wounds. Her hands and arms were red with drying blood, and she could feel that her hair was plastered to her head with it. No doubt she looked like she’d bathed in the stuff. All in all, she looked like something straight out of a slasher movie.

Too bad. They were going to have to get over it. There was no time for squeamishness.

Still, she didn’t speak to them immediately. She didn’t have the energy for the drama.

She went to the Leshii instead. “You fulfilled your bargain. It is appreciated.” She was careful not to say thank you. In the world of the Uncanny and the Divine, those words carried bindings that could be dangerous down the road. “You will want to ride on top of the RV.” She pointed. “It will likely be most comfortable for you.” That and fewer people might see them up there.

The father nodded and did as she suggested. Max turned to the three Blades. “You did good.” She put a hand on Steel’s shoulder and squeezed. He nearly jumped out of his skin, then flushed. “Without you, we never would have made it. Without all of you.”

“Is Alexander going to be all right?” Ivy asked, looking at the RV. “I’ve never seen anyone—” Her throat convulsed, and she turned and puked violently.

“He’s going to be fine,” Max said, sounding more certain than she felt. Her stomach churned with worry, and she wanted to go back into the smoke and start slaughtering the little bastards who’d done this to him. “He’s tough.”

But was he tough enough? She’d survived worse on Giselle’s altar, but then, Giselle was a good healer and at full strength in those sessions. Alexander was as strong as she was, but Judith wasn’t as powerful as Giselle, and she was severely depleted to boot. Max swallowed the bile that rose in her throat, forcing herself to focus on what needed to be done. “You three had better eat. You weren’t in good shape coming into this, and I’ll want you helping to drive until the sun comes up.”

They nodded and climbed up into the RV.

“Where are you planning to take us?” Tris demanded from behind Max.

Max closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning around. “Montana.”

“And then what? What will we do there? We’re not like you.” It was an insult. Her gaze ran over Max and she didn’t bother to hide her fearful repugnance.

Max glared at her sister, feeling the power of her Prime rolling off her as she rose back to the killing edge. Her fingers curled into claws. Tris fell back a step, her face turning white.

Max smiled. This was what she was. Dangerous. Terrifying. Strong.

“Is something wrong with me? I can’t imagine what. Because of me and the rest of us who came to help you, you and your girls are still alive.
We
fought the battle.
We
sold our pain and our blood so you wouldn’t have to. Maybe we even sold a life.” Her fury was growing, fed by her fear for Alexander. “Maybe you wanted to stay in there and wait until the smoke suffocated you or the
obake
broke through the ward line and killed you all.”

She felt her adopted Spears and Blades tumbling out of the RV as if called. It was the power of her Prime. She ignored them.

“You’re coming to Horngate because there is nowhere else you can be remotely as safe,” Max said flatly. “I don’t care if you want to or not. If I have to, I’ll tie you up and haul your asses back in the trunk of a car. Your choice.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Actually, I would love to.” Max grinned and it wasn’t a nice expression.

“What about Kyle’s daughter, Kristen?”

Max frowned. “Where is she?”

“She was with his ex-wife, Lynn, today. They were going to San Francisco. And Darla, his wife. She went to Placerville to visit her grandmother. We can’t just leave them.”

Max shook her head. “There’s nothing we can do for them. Not now. They’ll have to survive on their own.”

Tris backed away. “The Anne I knew would never act this way.”

“You’re right. But I’m not her.
My
name is Max. Split yourselves up between the SUV and the Mustang. We’re leaving the truck.”

She walked away then, afraid she’d punch her sister.

“Flint and Steel, I want you at the wheels until sunrise. Then Eagle and Stone can take over. Understand this—I don’t care what anybody says, they are coming with us to Horngate. Do whatever you have to to make sure of it. Got it?”

The Spears and Blades nodded. Black was starting to thread beneath the skin of the Spears—dark poisoning. She waved them inside before turning back to her sister and mother. Max didn’t trust them not to try to escape, and tying them up would make things harder. Fine. There were ways around it.

She went to Tory and grabbed her arm. “You’re riding inside.”

“What?” The girl pulled against Max’s hold, but she seemed more resentful than scared.

“You’re riding in the RV. They won’t go trying to run off if you’re inside. They’ll follow quietly or never see you again.” Max looked at the two stunned women. “Right?”

She pushed Tory into the RV and stepped up inside without another word. Oak and Ivy followed.

The smell of blood filled the interior of the motor home. Max glanced at the narrow hallway. It was silent. Her chest tightened. She turned her attention to Tory, pointing her to a chair by the window. “Get buckled.”

The girl stood a moment. “Is it really true you’re my aunt?”

“Afraid so.”

“And that guy who got hurt—is he my uncle?”

Max snorted. “Hardly.”

“He’s cute.”

“Yeah.” Max resisted the urge to tell the girl that Alexander would break her in half. “Buckle in.”

Oak took the wheel and started the engine. Max looked out the window. Her mother, Tris, and Tris’s younger girl had climbed into the SUV with Flint. Tris’s husband got into the Mustang with Kyle’s stepsons and Steel.

“Get going,” she told Oak, then went to rifle the galley kitchen for food. She hurt, and her lungs felt like they wouldn’t inflate. She wanted nothing more than to collapse in a heap, but she couldn’t.

Forty-five minutes later, they were forced to change drivers. Max and the Blades retreated into the back of the RV, sealing the doors and locking the wards so they could not be opened from outside. She went down to the room holding Alexander, her father, Kyle, and Judith, sliding down the wall to sit outside.

Oak, Ivy, Steel, and Flint sat beside her. She frowned at them. “You should go get some sleep.”

“We will,” Ivy said, unmoving.

Max tipped her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. She could hear chanting—Judith. Alexander was silent. But as long as the witch was working her magic, there was hope.

Hours ticked past. The five of them kept their silent vigil. After a while, Steel tipped his head onto his brother’s shoulder and fell asleep. Ivy rested her head on Oak’s leg and followed suit. Not long later, Flint was snoring softly.

“Can’t be comfortable,” Max said, eyeing them with exasperation, though she was glad of their company.

Oak watched her. His eyes no longer had that feral ring they had had when they first met. Gone also was that psychopathic edge.

“One time, we found this cave up in the hills,” he said, startling Max. “Patricia was excited. It went deep, one of those caves that’s really a tunnel to someplace mystical. We couldn’t get through unless we made it bigger. So some of the witches went in with a few of us Blades. Something happened and the roof caved in. We dug out, but Shana—one of the witches—was crushed. I didn’t know how she could still be breathing. Didn’t seem like a bone of her body wasn’t broken. You could hear her lungs bubble, and her head was shaped kind of like a football.” He shook his head at the memory.

“They sent for Judith. She saved Shana.” He looked at Max. “Judith’s triangle-strong, and she knows how to heal. She said Gregory should make it, too.”

Max nodded. “Thanks. That helps.”

The wait went on for two more hours. At last the door opened and Max sprang to her feet, the others with her. Her father came out first. He looked haggard, but his eyes sparkled. Kyle came behind. He looked less weary and more than a little satisfied. Judith swayed, exhaustion digging deep grooves into her face. She motioned for Max to come in.

Alexander lay on the bed. His chest was bare, and the rest of him was covered with a sheet. Much of the blood had been wiped away and his wounds were closed. His skin was pebbly and pink, but healing. His hands and feet twitched and jerked.

“He’ll be okay,” Judith said, her voice hoarse and cracking. “He’s restless. You might see if you can reassure him. He needs sleep. Food, too, when he wakes up.”

“Thank you,” Max said as relief sluiced through her. Her legs shook. She bent over, catching herself on her knees. Her head spun, and her stomach lurched. She drew a long breath and let it out slowly, then straightened.

The witch patted her shoulder as she turned to leave. “No, m’dear. Thank you.”

The door shut behind her. The room was tiny and smelled of sweat and blood. She reached down and ran her hand down the side of Alexander’s face. He turned into her touch, his body going still. She made a face at the dried blood on her hands and washed them in the bucket of cool red water on the floor. She rubbed the rag over her face, washing away what she could, then slid into the little gap between him and the wall.

She pressed her face against his chest, sliding her arm over his stomach. Silent tears slid down her cheeks. For Jim, for the family who no longer loved her, and for nearly losing Alexander.

AT SUNDOWN, SHE WOKE. ALEXANDER HAD NOT MOVED, but his skin was smooth, and he slept easily. She frowned, smelling the brine of the ocean and the scents of sand and pine. She crawled out of the bed without waking him and went to the cab of the RV.

They were parked in a lot in front of a tall dune. Maple yawned as Max came out. Tory was sitting in her chair, and Kyle and her father had opened the door and were stepping out.

“Where are we?” Max asked.

“Oregon. Florence.”

“You made good time.”

Maple flushed at the praise. “There’s a Fred Meyer here. I thought we should get some clothes for you and Alexander, pick up groceries and anything else we need. There’s a shower in the RV, or we can go find a campground and use theirs.”

She was smart. Max dearly wanted to get cleaned up and put on fresh clothes. She grimaced. She still wasn’t wearing underwear.

“Go get some sleep,” she told Maple as Oak, Ivy, Flint, and Steel came out of the back, yawning. “I want three of you to go shopping,” Max said. “Got a credit card? You’ll be paid back.”

They nodded. She made a list of clothing and sizes, guessing at Alexander’s. Ivy, Steel, and Flint went, leaving Oak with her.

“Bring her,” she told him, motioning at Tory.

She stepped outside. The wind was blowing and sand stung her skin. The ocean lay just beyond the big grocery outlet. They were parked off to the side. Her father and mother were talking heatedly in low voices. Tris was fuming beside her car, as Sharon walked up and down, stretching as she listened to music on her MP3 player. Paul was watching the two boys, who were climbing on the sand dune. Max grimaced. She wouldn’t want to be around her sister right now, either.

Max nodded at Eagle and Stone, who were standing guard. “Go eat and get some sleep. And thanks.”

They flashed smiles at her and climbed inside. Just like puppies.

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