Page 19 of Discovered Magic
“I should kill that blasted trio,” Jonas muttered. The only reason he hadn’t was because, until that moment, he’d been unable to associate them with anything but cattle rustling. And he wouldn’t fault people trying to fill their bellies. What was a missing cow or two compared to starvation? Unfortunately, it was becoming clear they were more than mere rustlers and had a deadlier mischief in mind.
With another wave of his hands, Jonas created enough airflow to lift himself, and he stepped onto the rock ledge.
“Stay cloaked, Masters,” he called. “I’ll bring her down after I deal with Larkham.”
Time rebounded with a snap, but he was prepared. Drawing on his elemental magic of air, he pushed outward. The force threw Eustace off balance and tumbling to the ground thirty-five feet below. Based on the awkward angle of his neck, the blackhearted villain wouldn’t be harming anyone else.
“What do we do now, Pa?” Gus Green cried.
“What the hell do ya think, ya demmed fool?” Harlan gave the reins a vicious tug, whirling his mount and digging his spurs into the poor creature’s sides. The horse gave a screeching whinny before galloping east toward town.
“One more thing to hold the bastard accountable for when we get back,” Jonas muttered as he knelt to check for the woman’s pulse.
Gus was slower to react, splitting his concern between Eustace and the pale blonde. Opposite his sire, it seemed the boy had a conscience. Swinging out of the saddle, he began the arduous climb.
“Fuck.” Jonas ran through the catalog of spells he knew, hoping to recall one to dissuade the youth.
Other than as a witty companion with a fast fist and faster gun, Draven was little use to him. Having shunned his latest gifts, he was on borrowed time with the Witches’ Council for refusing to bend to the Goddess’s and Fates’ will and accept his new job as Guardian. Jonas had been picking up the slack to keep the stubborn bastard from a showdown he couldn’t win.
Movement behind him caused Jonas to round on the potential threat, gun palmed in his left hand and his right prepared to blast whoever or whatever to perdition.
“Shadow,” he murmured before becoming disconcerted that the man could see him despite the cloaking magic.
Stands-in-Shadow gingerly picked his way toward Jonas, keeping his attention on Gus’s progress. The fact he’d ventured out of the darkened cliff crevice suggested he didn’t believe the young man was a viable threat.
“You can see me, yes?” Jonas asked.
The Apache man nodded. “Traveler’s child,” he said in a low voice, indicating the injured woman. “Came through the rocks.”
Damnation.
They could only hope no one would follow her. The last thing Jonas needed was a group of witches turning Perdition Ridge upside down. Despite their town being a hellhole, the residents weren’t mentally equipped to handle any level of supernatural chaos. Only the Witches’ Council had a snowball’s chance in Hades of keeping the magical community in line. Well, them and the Aether, Damian Dethridge.
Jonas considered summoning him and dumping his latest headache in Damian’s lap.
Though Stands-in-Shadow didn’t display any outward signs of suffering, he moved with a caution unnatural for him, and the skin around his eyes was pinched.
“How badly are you injured, Shadow?” he asked his old friend. “Be honest.”
“Bullet to the back from Crooked Neck.” Stands-in-Shadow didn’t bother to glance at Eustace’s broken body.
“Lodged?”
“Yes.”
Double damn!
“Okay.” Jonas rose and whistled to Draven. “Larkham shot Shadow. Get your ass up here and get the bullet out while I heal the woman.”
“What about the runt?” Draven asked as he materialized beside him. “He’s gaining ground, cher.”
“Yeah, I know. I can’t seem to recall any spells to deter him.” Squinting one eye, he studied his friend. “But you can.”
“Mon dieu! Kindly fuck yourself in the face if you believe I’ll play with Guardian magie.”
Leading Stands-in-Shadow back toward the wider part of the shelf, Draven removed his duster and rolled up his sleeves. “This will hurt like the very devil, Shadow. You are ready?”
The Apache withdrew a strip of leather from a pouch attached to the cord slung across his chest and slipped it between his teeth. Without hesitation, he sat, presenting his back, and rested his palms on his knees. With a grim nod, he indicated Draven should proceed. His trust alone was courageous.
