Page 12 of Bones
Whatever momentary calm I’d woken with evaporated as I realized I was curled into Trey’s side, my head on his shoulder. I jerked upright, but there was nowhere to go to get some space. Trey turned his head to look at me, but I just folded myself in half again despite the pain in my shoulder from the movement. I stayed that way for a long time, dozing until the rover slowed. I sat upright to see we’d driven up to a metal gate blocking the dirt road. Jax hopped out with a ring of keys, unlocking the gate and shoving it open. The rovers drove through, and Jax locked it behind us before clambering back in. We drove through three more gates like that, and I started feeling queasy. Wherever we were going was well protected, but I couldn’t help feeling like they were locking usin.
We went steadily up, and the trees thinned a little. When we crested a ridge, I caught my first glimpse of the hold nestled in the trees and surrounded by high walls that looked like metal. A massive watchtower sat in the middle. My heart sank. I’d never seen a hold so well protected. It looked like a damn fortress.
“Home sweet home,” Griz said.
“You ready?” Trey asked.
I stole a glance at him, but he was looking at Mac. Mac’s gaze flashed to me in the rear mirror, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. My stomach sank at the tension filling the air. Whatever waited for us at the hold, it wasn’t going to be good. I knew I should give Trey his jacket back, but I found myself clutching it tighter to my body like it might protect me.
“Let’s do this,” Mac replied, his voice tight.
Mac roared up to a metal gate that creaked open. I stole one last desperate glance at the woods before they disappeared behind the huge wall towering over us. The second rover followed close behind, and I heard the metal gate slam shut.
Buildings made of logs, wood, and metal filled the hold. People milled through what looked like a small marketplace. When the rovers drove up, most people stopped to look. A few people approached, an older tall woman leading the way. She had a leather belt over one shoulder that had two holstered pistols in the front and what looked like a giant knife holstered at her hip. Faded tattoos covered her wrinkled and weathered skin, and her grey dreads were pulled back by a scarf. Her eyes studied me, sharp as a hawk. No emotion shone in those eyes, just calculating judgment, and my stomach twisted at how much that look reminded me of Juck. Three men with impressive-looking guns stalked behind her. Most holds I’d encountered had some sort of council of leadership, but this show of force made this hold look more like the desert garrisons run by the violent warlords Juck often worked with.
The rovers came to a halt. Mac stepped out and approached the woman, tipping his head. Trey and Griz climbed down, Griz pulling me out with him. He hauled me a few steps away from the rover and then stopped, his grip tightening on my arm like a warning. Mac spoke to the woman in low tones, and she replied. I couldn’t hear what they said, but the energy seemed to shift toward something ugly. I stared at my feet, waiting, and tried to prepare myself as best I could.
“Bring her,” the woman finally called in a clear, cold voice that made me want to shiver.
Griz jerked me into motion. We filed up to the watchtower, passing through a fortified door. Guards watched us pass, holding automatic weapons that would’ve made Juck?—
No.I gritted my teeth. I didn’t have to waste my thoughts on him. Not anymore.
We went down a long circular flight of stone stairs that led to a dingy hallway. The woman and her guards entered a dim room with straw on the floor, but Griz and Trey stopped in the hallway. Mac took my arm from Griz, and the three of them exchanged a look heavy with significance. My heart stumbled into overdrive, but then Mac yanked me forward, leaving Trey and Griz in the hallway as the door swung shut.
The small room smelled of blood and vomit and fear, and my hands started trembling. A single chair stood in the center of the room covered with straps and buckles capable of holding someone down no matter how much they screamed and strained to get free.
“So, Mac,” the woman said, smiling in a way that made my skin crawl, “you promised me your informant was trustworthy. You swore this trip would be worth the cost.”
She paused, but Mac didn’t say a word. I stole a glance at his face. He stared at the woman, standing rigidly like a soldier. An expressionless mask hid whatever emotions he felt, but as he gripped my arm, I could feel both our hearts racing.
“A quiet covert operation to retrieve Juck’s secret weapon.” Her sharp gaze swung to me, and I fought the urge to shrink back. “And what have you brought me? A fortune of gasoline gone, half our supply of ammunition used up in a rooftop firefight, one of my men dead, and a scrawny girl with ‘magic healing powers?’” Her voice dripped with scorn.
“Bones could be a powerful asset,” Mac said. “There’s a reason Juck called her his ‘secret weapon.’”
“How about a demonstration?” The woman clapped her hands together, her smile growing wide again.
My stomach lurched.
“You can give us a demonstration, right, Bones?” The calmness of Mac’s tone clashed with the hardness in his eyes.
I knew it wasn’t a question.
C’mon,Wolf growled in my head.You’re not helpless, dammit!
“Yes,” I got out in a hoarse whisper, fumbling to unwrap my bandaged hands.
The woman’s smile showed all teeth now. She beckoned us forward, and Mac pulled me along with him. I dropped the bandages into the hay and prayed the queasy feeling in my gut wasn’t showing on my face. The woman drew a wicked-looking knife from the holster on her belt and Mac released my arm. Two of her men stepped forward to grab Mac by the arms, holding him still, and my lungs turned to stone. I had a flash of memory back to the baking hot desert, the glint of Juck’s pistol, and the smell of Grip’s blood. The woman continued smiling ear to ear as she raised her arm and slashed Mac’s stomach clean open.
Mac doubled over as much as he could with the men holding his arms. Blood stained his shirt red and ran down his pant legs. I blinked and for a moment it wasn’t Mac standing there bleeding out in front of me. I moved forward in a panic, grabbing him as the men released his arms. I stumbled under his weight, but I managed to get him down on his back. His hands pressed against the wound, but the straw on the floor beneath him turned scarlet.
I ripped his shirt up and pulled his hands away from the wound, replacing them with my own. The hot, slippery mess of organs pulsed against my hands, threatening to spill out onto the dirty floor. Mac panted hard through his teeth, fear and death creeping into his wide eyes. My powers felt fainter than I hoped, but the comforting warmth swept down my arms and into Mac.
“It’s ok. You’re ok,” I whispered to him.
His eyes locked on mine as the blood flow eased, and my powers wove his body back together. When only a fresh, pink scar remained, I let go. I wrapped my shaking arms around myself, noting Trey’s jacket was now covered in Mac’s blood.
The woman moved forward from where she’d been hovering near my elbow and ran her hand over the scar on Mac’s stomach. Mac lay still on the floor, panting.
