The mother raised him to me, insisting I hold him. But that was no longer possible. He was dead.
And so was she.
Celia leaned over the baby, smiling as best she could. Tears ran thick in her voice. “Your son is precious.”
The ghost smiled and nodded while her cheeks streaked with her pain.
To our right, the ghost of a young soldier smiled and waved. He shuffled forward, walking with an unsteady limp and dressed in a tattered WWII army uniform. I swore again, taking in the growing numbers rising from the mist. The spirits the witch had raised tonight had had their fill throughout the years. Their victims—men, women, and hell, even babies had suffered brutally at the hands of these ass**les.
Celia’s fury flared with mine. I placed my hand on her lower back and urged her forward. “We gotta get rid of the evil spirits and kill the bitch who raised them.” I jerked my head back toward the woman and her baby. “It’s the only way they’ll get their peace.”
The ghosts before us nodded with approval and parted, allowing us through. Rows of arms pointed in the direction of a steep ravine. Our pace quickened. A little boy about six hurried beside us, trying to show Celia his small Matchbox truck. He wanted her to take it, but of course, it was no longer possible.
Celia swallowed hard when she tried to pat his head and her hand went right through him. “When we reach them, I’m taking out the witch. You go after Dan.” She froze as we took in the brambles of dying blackberry bushes layering the ravine and the cold breeze shot upward. “I can smell Danny,” she whispered.
The growl I’d forced back burned my throat. “Yeah, he’s near. Stay close to me until we absolutely have to separate.” I linked my fingers around hers. “Can you shift us down through these thorns?”
She nodded. “Hang tight.”
We leapt high into the ravine. I barely caught sight of another spread of forest before ramming my eyes shut and holding my breath. Traveling via Celia left you with eyeballs and a stomach full of dirt if you didn’t take the necessary precautions. My body jerked forward, pulled along by the sheer strength of Celia’s power. We resurfaced in the patch of woods just as an explosion of blinding light and the roar of breaking wood thundered above us.
I shoved Celia out of the way half a second before she was struck by the giant fir breaking through a sea of dense branches. She landed atop a thick bed of moss unharmed. What sucked was I didn’t move fast enough. The giant trunk slammed into me, pinning me to the forest floor and mashing in my chest.
Broken ribs punctured my lungs like knives. I howled from the burn, struggling to breathe. All I managed were a few gasps and a shitload of wheezes. Warm blood pooled somewhere beneath me while searing pain ravaged my chest and catapulted out into my collapsing limbs. Mother’s ass, even my tongue hurt.
Celia scrambled to me, her expression blanching with fear. She pushed at the trunk. It wouldn’t budge. She knelt beside me, searching my body for signs of life. She gasped when I blinked back at her. “Oh my God, Bren. Are you okay?”
I reached out a weak hand and touched the soft skin of her beautiful face. “I love you, Celia,” I choked, struggling to speak. “I’ve always loved you.”
Celia released an exasperated sigh and shook her head. “No you don’t, Bren.”
“Okay,” I wheezed. “I don’t. It just seemed like the right thing to say. Get this thing off me, will ya?”
Celia scanned the length of the trunk. “Okay, but I have to change to do it. Don’t look while I take my clothes off.”
She stood and immediately started stripping. My lids peeled opened over my head. Dan was in trouble, my lungs were hamburger, and I was pretty sure my liver had split in two. And still I watched. Closely. Don’t judge me. Knocking on death’s door or not, I was still a man, damn it.
Shit. She looks even hotter than the last time I saw her naked. I wonder if Aric ever—
“Bren! I told you not to look!”
I frowned. “I never agreed to that.”
She changed, unleashing the golden tigress eager to kick ass. Her front claws dug into the bark while her back claws pushed against the forest floor. I roared as the weight rolled off me. It would’ve landed on my right arm if Celia hadn’t managed to hurl it at the last moment.
She nudged me with her large furry face, helping me to sit when I continued to writhe on the frozen ground like a salted slug. My crushed ribs withdrew from my lungs and slid beneath my skin to realign against my sternum. A barrage of swears spat out my mouth. Holy Mother, it hurt. The pain skyrocketed into mind-blinding agony when my ribs snapped back into place one after the other.
My vision blurred, and for a moment I came close to blacking out. But it didn’t matter. I’d heal. But Celia wasn’t were; she didn’t have the ability to mend her wounds. Son of a whore. That tree would’ve killed her if it had landed on her. But I guessed that’s what the shit-witch who aimed it at us wanted.