Page 11 of Big Top Bear Raid (Wolves of Stone Ridge #64)

WRAITH GRITTED HIS teeth, fighting against the pain. Peering down at his left arm, he saw the blood seeping through his torn shirt. On instinct, he gripped just below the wound with his right hand, cradling his bicep to his chest.

Who knew a little scratch could hurt so fucking bad?

“Let me see,”

Urskin urged, kneeling beside him. He was already pulling a canister from within the folds of his long coat.

“I wasn’t lying to your mate, Wraith.”

The dark-skinned warlock flicked his gaze over him before unscrewing the tin’s lid.

“I could see the faint glow of poison magick on the blade he threw.”

Meeting Wraith’s gaze, Urskin explained.

“I need to leech it before it can do damage to your muscles.”

Slowly, Wraith released his arm and held it out to Urskin.

He grimaced a little when he saw him set down the tin and pull a knife from a sheath at his belt.

Still, from his call to Alpha Declan, Wraith did his best to trust that Urskin was an ally.

Supposedly, his alpha had gotten this warlock’s information from the Shifter Council.

“Just relax, Wraith,”

Urskin murmured soothingly.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Shouldn’t you be off chasing Lawrance or Steele?”

Wraith asked, needing something to concentrate on as he watched Urskin cut off his sleeve.

“And who was the big blond with you?”

“He’s Warsaw. My familiar. Like your mate.”

Urskin smiled a little, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling.

“He knows how to take care of himself.”

After carefully removing Wraith’s shirt sleeve, Urskin added.

“And if Lawrance tries to use magick against the bears, it won’t work, so they’ll be fine.”

As he focused on Wraith’s wound, pulling a pouch from some hidden inner pocket, he told him.

“And as soon as I’m done removing the poison from your wound, I’m going to cast a tracer spell. In the event of Lawrance getting away from Zion and Acadia, and he casts another spell, I’ll know right where he is.”

“Damn,”

Wraith muttered.

“You can do that?”

Finally, he added a mortar and pestle to the growing group of supplies on the ground.

“Only if I’m familiar with the signature of another warlock’s magick.”

Focusing on Wraith, an expression of distaste twisting his features, Urskin admitted.

“Which I am.”

Then Urskin refocused on what he was doing. He used a small spoon to scoop a dollop of the ointment from the tin into the mortar bowl. Then he opened one of the small pouches. Holding it near Wraith’s arm, Urskin reached into it.

Pausing, Urskin held his gaze once more.

“I apologize in advance, but this will hurt,”

he warned. “Ready?”

Wraith had no clue what he was supposed to be ready for, but he jerked a nod anyway.

Urskin’s lips tightened as he drew out a bit of pale purple powder between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Stay as still as you can.”

With that final warning, Urskin sprinkled the powder directly onto Wraith’s slice wound.

Searing pain flashed through his arm, and Wraith barely stopped himself from jerking away.

Dark spots actually danced across his vision.

Sweat broke out on his forehead and temples, and his jaw ached with the effort it took to keep it clenched so he didn’t scream.

Faintly, Wraith heard Urskin encouraging him to breathe.

Right. Breathing would be good.

Wraith sucked in a harsh breath before letting it out on a hiss through bared teeth. After a few seconds, he forced himself to take a second, then a third lungful of air. It took a moment, but finally, Wraith got his breath back.

Urskin eyed him with sympathy as he dipped his fingers into the pouch again.

“I know this hurts like a bitch,”

he murmured.

“But I need to do that one more time.”

“Gods, seriously?”

Wraith would forever deny the whine in his tone. When Urskin grimaced and nodded, he grumbled.

“Anyone ever do this to you?”

When Urskin began to shake his head, Wraith scowled.

“Then how the hell would you know?”

Yup. Now I’m being pissy.

Smirking, Urskin claimed.

“I had to do it to myself.”

He glanced toward the left side of his torso, his inference clear.

“Shit.”

Wraith really felt like a douche.

“Sorry. Let’s get this over with.”

Wraith mentally steeled himself for another round of agony.

Unfortunately, it was worse the second time, and he may have passed out for a few seconds, but he wasn’t certain.

When Wraith blinked his eyes back open, he saw something that looked suspiciously like a sickly blue-green puss oozing from his wound.

Gagging, Wraith barely kept down his second lunch.

“What the fuck?”

he managed.

“The color of that discharge tells me what kind of poison was used on the blade,”

Urskin explained, quickly adding a scoop of powder to the ointment he’d already placed in the bowl. He added a couple of drops of clear fluid with a dropper, saying.

“Distilled water,”

then began using his pestle to mix it all together.

Urskin began a soft chant. Immediately, the gritty-looking paste took on a vibrant, glowing blue hue. When the warlock stopped speaking, it remained a rich color.

Gripping Wraith’s arm just below the bleeding wound, Urskin smiled and told him.

“You’ll like this part.”

Then, using what looked like a butter knife, Urskin spread the ointment over his torn flesh.

To Wraith’s surprise, a cool, soothing sensation spread through his arm. The pain immediately eased. It even tingled a little, which felt sort of neat.

Urskin was right. Wraith definitely liked that part. He watched in fascination as the green sludge was expunged from his body. Urskin caught it in a metal container, using the butter knife to make certain no drop was missed.

Once Urskin appeared to have gotten it all, he used a damp cloth to wipe away the excess ointment. He put a lid on his container and tucked both items, as well as the used tools, into a resealable bag.

“I’ll clean everything later,”

Urskin explained as he began tucking everything away.

“As well as sanitize them, disposing of the toxins properly.”

Wraith nodded slowly as he felt the effects of the spell dissipate.

“Did you send my mate away because you knew how painful this would be?”

he asked curiously. After all, shifters could be irrational about keeping their mates from pain, regardless of the how and why.

“In part.”

Urskin chuckled as he rose to his feet, then offered him a hand.

“And you have to admit, getting Zion out of my way was important.”

Once Wraith was on his feet, the warlock crossed to a trailer and picked up the poisoned knife from where it’d fallen.

“Plus, Lawrance needed to be tracked.”

Urskin wrapped the knife in a piece of leather before tucking that away, too.

“And this also gave Acadia a chance at a little revenge.”

Wraith nodded. There really wasn’t any other word for it. He supposed it could be called restitution, but revenge definitely fit, too.

Another thought hit him, and Wraith couldn’t help but ask.

“Aren’t you worried about Lawrance running into your familiar? Uh, Warsaw?”

Easing his soiled shirt from his body, he continued.

“He and Steele have been working together, after all.”

Urskin smiled as he shook his head.

“No. I gave Warsaw immunity to magick after bonding with him,”

he told him nonchalantly.

“Hmmm...I can clean that, but not repair it.”

Urskin held out his hand.

“Wow, you can do that?”

Wraith asked in surprise as he handed over his bloody shirt.

“Give him immunity, I mean. That’s impressive. Can all warlocks do that for their familiars?”

“Only the powerful ones who’ve learned the spell,”

Urskin replied.

There wasn’t any hint of smugness or pride in his tone even though he’d just declared himself one of the powerful ones.

Instead, Urskin pulled out a small pendant in the shape of a broom and placed it on Wraith’s shirt.

Then he muttered something.

The shirt undulated gently as if caught in a wind that Wraith didn’t feel. The pendant glowed yellow for a few seconds before fading. Holding out the shirt, Urskin smiled.

“There you are.”

“Uh, thanks,”

Wraith murmured, finding himself in awe of the aging warlock.

He took the shirt and pulled it back on.

Since it was minus most of his left sleeve, he quickly tore off his right sleeve at about the same height, making him sort of match.

Then Wraith wrapped the sleeve around his left bicep in a make-shift bandage.

“Should we—”

Before Wraith could finish his question, he heard the padding of feet approaching.

He tipped his head and realized from the crunching on gravel that they weren’t human feet.

Turning, Wraith watched as Zion and Acadia, both still in bear form, peeked around the corner.

Spotting them, Zion led the way forward.

To Wraith’s surprise, Warsaw rode on Zion’s back.

He cradled a small dog in his arms, and his expression held worry and pain.

The dog whimpered softly, and Warsaw made crooning noises to it.

“Warsaw?”

Urskin cried, jogging toward them.

“What happened to Jasmine?”

Wraith hurried after him, glancing between the trio.

“I caught Steele and had put him in cuffs,”

Warsaw told him. His expression held a mixture of anger and worry for his dog as he glanced at her.

“Lawrance showed up on my motorcycle. Jasmine was still in my sidecar.”

Warsaw shook his head, his tone turning pained.

“He threw her out, Urs. Just picked her up by her scruff and flung her. I tried to catch her, but she hit a tree.”

Warsaw stared down at his whimpering dog.

“I think she broke her leg or something.”

Then his cheeks darkened as he muttered.

“Steele hopped in my sidecar, and they got away.”

As Warsaw had been explaining, he’d slid from Zion’s back. Zion took that opportunity to shift. A second later, Wraith found himself wrapped up in his naked mate’s strong arms.

“Are you okay?”

Zion rumbled, one hand teasing along the edge of the bandage on his bicep.

“I hated leaving you, but—”

“I know, Zion,”

Wraith comforted him by rubbing up and down his back, teasing along the edges of the raised flesh.

“And I’ll be fine now that Urskin removed the poison.”

Tipping his head back, Wraith gave his mate a peck on the jaw.

“I’m kinda glad you weren’t here. That poison shit was gross.”

Wraith didn’t add that it had hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. He would keep that little tidbit to himself.

“You can help her, right?”

Warsaw asked plaintively, redrawing Wraith’s attention to the big distraught man.

“Of course, I can, my familiar,”

Urskin assured, caressing the big blond’s cheek.

“Come lay her here.”

He pointed toward a patch of nearby dirt. As they both moved that way, Urskin called over his shoulder.

“Would you guys take charge of Goldsteen and Kyle, please? Don’t worry. The cuffs on the apprentice nullify any magick attempts.”

“Right.”

Wraith felt a little embarrassed that he’d completely forgotten about them.

“We’ll take care of ’em.”

Wraith eased out of Zion’s arms and peered toward where a shell-shocked-looking Kyle was sitting where Urskin had left him earlier.

He was staring at them all, but his expression held an odd mixture of vacancy and fear. It seemed that seeing Zion shift caused his brain to check out a bit.

Has the guy never seen a shifter change?

While Wraith thought that was odd, there was no telling what ridiculous notions Lawrance had filled Kyle’s head with.

Not my problem.

Wraith turned his attention to Goldsteen, but he needn’t have worried.

He still lay unconscious where he’d fallen when Wraith had pushed him out of the knife’s way.

Wraith had registered that he’d hit his head on one of the bars of the bear cage, but considering he’d seen the rise and fall of the human’s chest, Wraith had been more concerned about his own pain from the poison.

Crossing to Goldsteen, Wraith knelt beside him and first checked the man’s pulse.

It was strong and steady.

Then he carefully felt around the human’s head. Wraith found a little blood at the top of his temple, almost hidden by his hairline, telling him where he’d hit his head. There was also a bit of swelling there, too.

After relaying that information to Urskin, the warlock told him he would check him after healing Jasmine...just in case.

Wraith began moving Goldsteen into a more comfortable position, a little bit closer to Kyle, and noticed Zion hovering close to him while his attention bounced between him and Acadia.

His bear’s cousin stood near Urskin, still as a statue.

If a bear could stand at parade rest, Wraith imagined that was what it would look like.

Once Wraith had Goldsteen settled, he called.

“Uh, Urskin?”

When the warlock glanced his way, he pointed at Acadia and arched one brow.

Urskin glanced at the bear, and his eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, uh, right.”

With a smile at Acadia, he told him.

“Relax however you wish, Acadia. I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.”

The tension immediately drained from Acadia’s body.

He eyed Urskin for a few seconds, and the warlock gave him a smile and nod.

Finally, Acadia began slowly moving toward Zion, his expression almost wary as he took one step after another past where Urskin knelt beside the dog.

“The spells make you take everything very literally,”

Urskin murmured, glancing Zion’s way before refocusing on Jasmine.

“Don’t they?”

Zion nodded once.

“They did,”

he confirmed. When Acadia reached Zion’s side, he rested his hand on his cousin’s massive head.

“And the spell to remove this hurts like a son-of-a-bitch, but it’s worth it. I promise.”

Acadia chuffed before leaning into Zion’s touch, as if saying that any pain to end his entrapment would be well worth it.

Deciding to give Zion and his cousin a moment, Wraith squeezed his mate’s free hand.

“Keep an eye on these two, okay?”

When Zion furrowed his brows in silent question, he grinned at his mate before looking at his nakedness pointedly.

“I’m going to pop over and find you some clothes from that clown closet we hid behind.”

Zion grimaced.

“Clown clothes?”

he whined.

Wraith laughed as he shrugged.

“It’s better than nothing. I’m going to give Detective Mathers a call, too, so we can’t have you running around naked, now can we?”

Heaving a put-upon sigh, Zion muttered.

“I guess not.”

Acadia made a chuffing noise, as if laughing at his cousin.

“Laugh it up now, fuzzball,”

Zion growled. Then, after giving Acadia an evil look, he ordered Wraith.

“Don’t forget to get something for my cuz.”

Wraith laughed as he began jogging away. Acadia’s bear definitely sported an absolutely horrified expression. As Wraith moved, he pulled out his phone and called the detective.

They would need his help to keep everything under wraps.