Page 97 of Shadows of Nightshade
“Bianca!” The touch moving over me was now gentler, much less urgent, and migrated to the side of my face. I peeked at the owner.
“Are you okay?” Miles asked. He’d wrapped his much larger form around mine, and everything was better within his shadow despite there being an angry ghost nearby.
And wasn’t it Miles who was somewhat useless against spirits?
But as I looked into his concerned chestnut-colored eyes, I couldn’t help but relax into his honeying comfort. He was terrified of ghosts, yet he was here, in the midst of evil, to help me.
“I’m fine,” I said, grabbing his hand. His heartbeat was thundering against my cheek. I was so proud of him.
“I’m glad.” His returning grin was only a little shaky.
“Oh, knock it off,” Finn scoffed. He’d pushed into a seated position beside us. His voice was strangely strangled but still familiar to my ears as he continued. “This is hardly the time or place for any nauseating displays.”
“You knock it off!” I glared at him, noting that, outside of his mussed hair and askew glasses, he appeared to be quite alive.
It was good, at least, that the ghost hadn’t murdered or maimed him too badly.
But he had a point. Finn was nothing if not logical. We’d just been almost killed, and there was still a taint to the air, anunsettling eeriness moving between the shadows of the trees, even though the attack had subsided.
He was still ready to fight, warily scanning the area, and Miles was tense. It was obvious, though, that they were conceding to Damen, Julian, and Titus’s far more imposing forms.
But I had to admit if only to myself, Finn’s continually evolving experience in battle remained impressive.
“Are you okay?” Damen’s query stifled my dangerous thoughts—I was nowhere near ready to rekindle my friendship with Finn—as he left his defensive formation and knelt in front of me. Behind him, Titus and Julian stood guard, both watchful, yet allowing their curious attention to drift to the four of us.
I swallowed as Damen’s fingers lingered over my cheek—I must have gotten scratched as I’d been dragged across the ground—and I shivered. Julian, still watching us, silently frowned.
“How did you get here?” Damen asked.
So nosy. Yet…
Why was my heart racing at his worried expression? However, I couldn’t answer him. I touched my trembling fingers to my lips.
I didn’t know the answer to that either.
“I…” How could I describe it? “I walked. I think,” I muttered the last part.
Even more importantly, “How did you know where I was?” I asked.
“Never mind,” Damen scowled. “We’ll figure it out later.” Instead of pressing forward, he turned to Finn.
“What happened?” he asked him. Although he’d only spoken two words, there was an expectation of something more hidden within them.
“There’s a spirit trying to kill Bianca,” Finn said, standing even as he said the obvious. He would not look at Damen. “Maybe it’s too stubborn to move on, or it could be lonely. How should I know? I’m not an expert on ghosts.”
“And why areyouhere?” Damen asked.
“I…” Finn opened his mouth, this time glancing toward me. “Coincidence.”
Damen clearly did not believe his brother, but before he could respond, a resounding screech began to echo through the area. I was suddenly suffocating under the tension of Miles’s tightening grip as the men shifted into quick alertness.
There was a shout—I wasn’t sure from where—and with an agility I hadn’t thought possible from the broad, muscular-framed witch, Miles picked me up and jumped only an instant before a thick branch crashed into the ground. The wind screamed, whipping around us, as the momentary abasement ended.
“Bring her back!” The air reeked with malice, grabbing, pulling at my bare ankles. My skin prickled in terror as the bone-chilling command seemed to cling to my feet. My clothes pulled, the thin gown tearing, as the voice grew louder in its desperation to drag me from my defender. “Give her to me!”
Even though I could feel Miles’s arms gripping my shoulders, a steady force anchoring me to earth, I was drowning.
Just as suddenly, the pressure released, and I gasped as the bitter, night air forcibly rushed into my lungs.
