Blade Song - By J.C. Daniels Page 0,82

to fade away on me but I battled it back.

Damon’s hand grabbed the back of my neck, squeezed. “Don’t,” he said. Even though his voice was gentle, there was a thread of command in it. “You act like you got balls of steel, now is the time to show it.”

“If you don’t quit bossing me around, I’m going to show my balls of steel…and cut yours off,” I muttered, shoving back another round of the shakes. Then I glanced down and smirked. “They’re rather exposed.”

One of those weird expressions—was it a smile?—came and went. “That’s my girl. Come on.”

He went first, checking every step of the way.

Then he knelt at the lip of the pit. I moved to stand at his side, resting a hand on his shoulder and clinging to sanity by the threads.

Three terrified faces stared up at us.

Two girls and one boy who was painfully close to a man.

Blond, yes. Blue-green eyes like Doyle had.

But the face…a familiar face.

Sanity tried to twist away again. Time shifted—reversed. That face, staring down at me while I clambered up a rope. Me kneeling on the ground, all but ready to kiss the soft grass, so grateful to be out of the pit.

Then, cold water—cruel hands.

Rathias—a third cousin. One of the crueler ones.

She said to let you out tonight…you’re out, cousin. Now you can say thank you—

A sharp wail split through the memories crowded into my mind and I shoved them back, breathing shallowly as I stared at the girl instead. Girl. This one was a witch. Red-haired, green-eyed, skinny and frail. She looked like she didn’t stand a chance against the muscle the shifters could weld.

The shifters…

Against my will, I felt myself looking back at the boy. The blond hair.

The eyes.

Through a throat gone tight, I whispered, “Is that Doyle?”

“Yeah.”

I stumbled away and went to my knees.

Rathi—

“Damn it, Kit, what the fuck is the matter?”

I wanted to run. Everything in me screamed it.

Behind me, I heard long, low, furious curses.

Swallowing, I slipped out of my backpack and unzipped it. Coiled in the bottom was a rope. We hadn’t planned on needing it, but then again, we hadn’t planned on coming across snakes, steel traps or landmines.

And I hadn’t planned on finding a kid with a face that looked like the hell of my past either.

“Why doesn’t he look like the picture?” I asked quietly.

“The spike. Hitting him hard.” Power ripped, rippled and I found myself staring into Damon’s face—that familiar face. “What’s wrong, kitten?”

No. Mutely, I shook my head and I passed the rope over.

Not now.

Probably not ever.

I couldn’t do this now.

“No time, remember?”

They were all weak.

Malnourished.

Doyle was the worst.

He watched me like…well, a predator who’d sighted its prey. Even after Damon had forced three bottles of water and several of the protein shakes on him, the kid still had a half-wild look in his eyes.

A few times, he made a move toward me and each time, Damon stepped between us.

The girls crowded around me and I let them.

The little witch broke down sobbing, wrapping her arms around my neck. “He’s spiking and he’s trying so hard, but…”

I heard the unspoken words. Hell, I could see it.

Doyle was teetering on the brink. “It’s okay,” I told her. “But we can’t stay here.”

We started out, me herding the girls along in front, even though every instinct demanded I not leave the hungry, predatory kid at my back.

Several times, I heard a growl. Snarls.

Once, there was a weird, rushing sound and I looked back, saw Damon holding the boy in a bear hug. He stared at me. “Go,” he said flatly. “We’ll be along.”

I grimaced and kept moving.

If I thought that first day in the park was hell, no. This….this was hell.

It was nightfall before we reached our car. There were more traps set, but we evaded them with ease, thanks in part to the little witch. Her name was Erin and she told me she’d been out on two hunts already. She said this in a broken, awful little whisper.

I wanted to cuddle her and hold her and promise nothing else would ever happen to her.

But I didn’t make promises I couldn’t keep.

Park rangers were up ahead. Shit.

My bow. My sword. I had them clutched in my hands and I stopped, shooting Damon a look and then I groaned as I saw his utter lack of clothing. He calmly dropped his pack and pulled out some clothes. He’d lost his shoes—did he have shoes?

“Kit. Do it…and don’t argue,” he told me.

I