Hellbender - Dana Cameron Page 0,15

me, but I think I’m dying over here. “Not doing so good, Quarrel.”

I tried to push myself off the floor, but my arms were tingling like they’d been asleep, deprived of circulation, and I could barely feel them. Finally, I managed to sit up, my legs straight out in front of me. I heard shouts. I had to ignore those and Quarrel and get to killing Buell.

“It is no wonder I found you so easily! You are quite radiant with—” He used a word I didn’t understand. “If I had been here sooner, perhaps there might have been some for me.”

Reaching delicately through the standing members of the house, with no walls to impede his view or him, Quarrel nudged me with his snout, breathing small wisps of steam that added to the humidity. Being nudged by a dragon is a little like being nudged by a very dainty bus, even when you haven’t been in a fight for your life, mystically transported, and shot repeatedly. I smelled a familiar aroma, bitter herbs, and felt my insides move sickeningly again, the pain from the gunshots and blood loss dizzying, as I settled back onto the mats. Maybe Quarrel was concerned; more possibly he wanted to see if there was any loose power left he could grab.

Quarrel had been a friend and ally, but I could never forget that he had once, on a hillside in Turkey, threatened to eat me and take my power as his own. This proximity and my weakness was not a good combination, as far as I was concerned. At least if it was Quarrel who killed me, it wouldn’t be Buell.

“Oh, I understand. You have not—” He again used language I could not comprehend. He gave me a look of something like awe. “You are very weak.”

I understood that okay. “Yeah.”

“Pray, allow me.”

He stretched out his claw daintily through the standing members of the house. I thought he was going to put me out of my misery and seize what power he could from me. This would be my obituary, I thought, as I felt the point of a claw dig ever so slightly into my flesh: Zoe Miller, briefly an archaeologist, a werewolf for an even shorter period, leaving a trail of dead friends and chaos behind her, died finally by being dispatched by an ambitious dragon, Quarrel . . .

Instead it was like lightning coursing through me, enveloping me. Somehow it was different from the artifacts’ assault, controlled, like jumper cables being correctly applied, and oddly cooling. Then, way too cold; I felt myself go numb through and through. The big chill, the biggest . . .

Well, it was better than the bullets and fire and bruises, I thought sluggishly. My brain slowed and . . .

I gasped and sat bolt upright. I clutched at my stomach and felt my borrowed clothing soggy, heavy, and bright with fresh blood. Biting my lip, I probed further and then dared to lift up the hem of my shirt.

Wet, but not bleeding. I brushed at it. Nothing. No wounds, no blood, no bullet-churned guts spilling out . . .

I blinked, stared again, and then poked at the skin. Nope, all was well. Still no jewels, but . . .

I looked at Quarrel, who was eying Buell with an air of disgust. I made a noise of disbelief, and the dragon swung his head around to me. “Yes?”

Still incapable of speech, I raised my brows and spread out my hands to indicate, “Look, I’m alive!”

“Yes. Well, you know I was what you call ‘vampire,’ one of the healing warriors, before I grew into this form over the millennia. My skills have always been prodigious in that sphere.”

“I’ll say,” I croaked.

“You were very weak, still adjusting to the assimilation of those . . . tools. I merely helped by employing”—he used unfamiliar language—“and by healing your body.” The dragon cocked its head with concern. “You should eat. It’s not good for one so young to go so long without food. Especially when there are many events unfolding.”

I nodded dumbly. I could not agree more. “Thank you. Uh, for healing me.”

“I am surprised you did not think to use that . . . foreign thing you have . . . on him.” Quarrel’s voice dripped with distaste.

I looked beside me and found a short sword, the one artifact that had not been transformed to the energy that was now a part of me. About three feet long, and iron;