Page 29 of Hexes & Heartstrings (Shifters of Bastion Keep #2)

Russell buried his nose against Bruin's shoulder, sniffing. "It's fine. You were tired."

In the middle of the night, Bruin had been summoned to a distant anchor.

One of the guardians that had been hunting the massive shadow spirit had been critically injured, his lower limbs crushed.

Bruin had scarcely had time to grab his witch's bag before he'd been rushed to the helicopter and flown out.

Benjamin would have survived, Bruin had told him later, but this way the werebull hadn't been forced to wait an extra hour for humvee transport.

But after he'd healed his primary patient, Marka had called a halt to the hunt, bringing the packs back home, and then Bruin had spent the rest of the night and the early morning helping in the infirmary.

Russell kissed his wonderful, friend-shaped helper on the top of his head, hugging him again.

"What time is it?"

"One-thirty," Russell said.

"Maybe two more hours, then? I got up for lunch, then went back to bed."

Russell grunted his agreement. He could give his boyfriend that much. And with Ser away, he had that much more affection to share, and needed an outlet.

◆◆◆

After a pleasant nap, Russell woke his boyfriend, who excused himself to do another check on the wounded.

He told Russell that afterwards he'd like it if they could go for a walk together, but that in the meantime, he knew of someone else that could use his help.

Then he'd asked if those ideas sounded good to him.

Russell thought both ideas were great, and told him so. So after crushing his thoughtful boyfriend goodbye for now, he did as he was asked.

"Come in!" Rosemary said, and Russell opened the door to her room, stepping inside.

If you combined a mausoleum with a cottage and then convinced a bucket of black paint to explode over everything, that'd be a fair assessment of the current state of the witch's room; there were black shelves filled with books, accessories like skulls and chalices, and a wall-rack with hanging collars and chains, but also cookie-scented incense and a black wicker basket containing readily available fleece blankets in case a guest got cold.

Russell had helped Rosemary with most of the reorganizing, swapping out the original furniture with things she'd somehow unearthed in the castle's deep storage rooms. Overall, the room kind of felt like when his ma decorated the store for Samhain, combined with lazing around the kitchen in his wolf form while Ser's dad baked. It was nice.

"Bruin said I should visit," he said to her.

"I asked him to do that, yes. I have an important job for you!"

Rosemary was at her desk, and he saw her pick up a black candle and dribble a healthy dollop onto a closed envelope.

Then, she held a few fingers up in front of her lips and whispered an incantation of some kind.

Once she was done casting her magic, Rosemary pressed her lips into that wax, leaving behind a sealed imprint.

With a gleam and a smile, she turned to him, holding out the envelope, and he had to wait until he finished clapping his hands before taking it reverently. Another letter!

"Can you deliver this to you-know-who?"

"Yes! Thank you for letting me help. I like doing this."

"I can tell," she said, looking down, and Russell realized he was shaking his rump in lieu of a tail. She then lifted the lid off of a candy dish, holding it out to him. "Mint?"

"Mm."

Russell reached for the bowl, but discovered that he still had both hands holding the letter. After a hard moment of being unable to figure out which hand to release, he simply bent over and allowed Rosemary to put two of them into his mouth. The soft candies melted pleasantly.

"I will deliver your letter now," he said around the candies, then turned to go, excited at the prospect. He heard her get to her feet with a swish of her dress, and he stopped to turn back around.

"You don't have to go right away," she said, her belly shaking as she laughed. "We can stay and talk."

Russell looked at her, trying to figure out what she wanted. From her scent, she seemed calm, but that could mean a lot of things. Then he looked down at the letter as he danced back and forth on his feet, then back up into her face with a frown.

"Ooh, in a hurry to deliver it?"

Russell nodded once.

"Then go. Come back if you can, I'd like to see how my best friend's boyfriend is doing. And Russell?" Reaching out, she touched him on his hip. "If anyone bothers you again, let me know, okay? Bullies are everyone's problem."

Russell hesitated, then nodded.

She wasn't talking about today, probably, but she always seemed to know so much, so maybe.

With most of the regular guardians away, some of Lady Yi's pack had been emboldened at dinner the night before, and Russell had been harassed out of his seat twice for reasons he didn't understand.

Rosemary had stepped up, chastising the offenders.

Russell's hands nearly clenched at the memory as he brought his hands to his chest defensively, but the sound of paper alerted him before he could crinkle the letter. With a firm nod, he left Rosemary's room and headed to the third floor.

Carefully, he watched for signs of anyone walking down the halls, but fortunately this area of the castle was empty. He adjusted the waist of his kilt, then shifted into his werewolf form so that he could be certain, sniffing the air.

Padding lightly down the hall, he made his way to a certain set of quarters, sniffing at it carefully and listening for the sounds of anyone moving within. Nobody. It seemed he was safe.

Russell bent down and was about to slide the letter under the door when he heard a sound from down the hall. He froze.

Approaching from around the corner was Marka, her arm in a sling, talking with pack leader and salamander shifter Summer, a blond-haired, self-professed cowgirl. Seeing Russell, she gained a puzzled expression, and then her eyes saw the letter that was in his hand.

"What's this?" she asked, striding purposefully down the hall while Russell remained in his crouch. She gasped, putting her good hand to her chest theatrically. "Russell! Are you my secret admirer?"

What should he do? Should he say yes? Should he say no? Should he finish sliding the letter under the door and pretend that he didn't see her?

Paralyzed with indecision, canine instincts made the choice for him—shoving the letter into his mouth, Russell shifted fully into his wolf form and ran away.

He heard Marka laugh, and then the sound of padded feet as she chased him in her own werewolf form. Russell had a head start, but lost ground as he tripped on his kilt before he managed to kick himself free of it.

Run run run. Playful howling followed him, a hunter chasing her prey. Russell made one loop around the third floor, then raced down a set of stairs. He just needed to get outside. If he did that, she'd never be able to catch him! Then he could chew on his toy in peace.

Wait, don't chew!

He stumbled as he remembered that he had a delicate letter in his mouth, not food or a chew toy, and that was enough of a distraction that Marka was able to catch up, leaping upon him. After they finished tumbling, Russell found that he was pinned beneath Marka, and his head in a headlock.

"Drop it," she commanded. Russell growled, and she shook him. "I said drop it!"

Russell opened his mouth, and the damp letter fell to the ground. Surprisingly, the seal remained unbroken.

"Aha, at last!"

Reaching over, Marka reverently picked up the letter, giving it a whiff. "Smells like wolf slobber and someone's perfume. No idea who, though, and it'd be just impossible to guess, woe is me . "

Getting off of him, Marka rose to her feet, then reached out a paw before wincing.

"Ah, shit," she said, and Russell saw her flinch in pain as she brought her arm back against her chest. "Busted my damn arm again. Can you help me with the sling?"

Russell shifted into his human form in order to have hands, and Marka followed suit to be the right shape.

The human-sized sling dangled loosely from around her neck, having become dislodged when she'd adopted her werewolf form.

Gently, he put her elbow back into it, being careful of the soft splint that covered her forearm and elbow.

As Russell made last adjustments to the straps, making sure it was at the right angle, Marka swore at herself.

"Don't tell Teresa I did this, okay? It'll be our little secret… what? You have that look you get."

Russell was thinking about how she smelled strongly of pain. Her arm was clearly broken, and she'd just tumbled on it. Was there anything that could be done?

"You smell like pain," he said simply, then saw her roll her eyes. "You should see Teresa."

"I'll be fine. I came from her not ten minutes ago, and if she knew what I'd just done, she'd have my hide for a rug."

He tilted his head, thinking. "Bruin."

"Nah, let your boyfriend recover. He went all out last night, and he's busy checking up on Benny and the others. I'm not gonna waste his energy on this. I'll take some more meds and drown my pain by reading this lovely mysterious letter."

Russell perked up, and he tapped Marka on her shoulder as she turned to go upstairs. He leaned in carefully, indicating her injured arm.

"Rosemary," he said.

He wanted to giggle, seeing the different expressions on her face. Stubbornness, at first, a guardian wanting to tough it out. But apprehension slowly gained ground as Marka apparently realized that it made sense, and she had no real excuse to decline.

"She does have some skill with healing, doesn't she," Marka said, her face turning red. "Fuck it, sure, let's go see her."

Rosemary made some interesting faces herself when she saw the two of them and heard the reason for their coming, nearly shoving Marka into a sturdy black chair made soft by a cushion and two blankets.

She had Russell fill a small basin with water from her bathroom tap, and by the time he returned with it and some washcloths, the witch was already bending over Marka, sling and brace both removed and her witch's bag at her side.

Marka seemed to be struggling to keep her head turned away from where the witch's corset-enhanced bosom was practically in her face.

"I may not be a Green witch like Bruin," Rosemary said pleasantly, adding some kind of salt into the water that gave the room a eucalyptus scent. "But I know some charms to help soothe this angry redness, though it might take half an hour."

At Rosemary's request, while she began to gently run a wet cloth over her patient's arm, Russell grabbed a bottle of red wine and two fancy glasses from a cabinet. He filled one and went to hand it to Marka.

"Oh, thank you," she stammered, reaching for it, but then froze when she saw that her good hand still held the sealed letter. "I'll just, uh…"

She made to put it down on the floor, changed her mind, then tried to put it under her thigh, but seemed to think better of that as well, and began to growl.

Rosemary dried a hand on a cloth, then deftly plucked it from Marka's hand to set it on the nearby sitting table, not even giving it a second glance.

"I'll wipe your arm down, first, then do a minor Boneknitting charm I know how to do," Rosemary said. "Let me know what you think of the wine, it's one of my favorites, but I also keep some of Bastion's dragon ale stocked if you'd prefer that."

Filling the second glass for Rosemary, Russell maintained a straight face as he set it right next to the letter. He recorked the bottle, laid a gentle hand on Rosemary's shoulder to say goodbye, a firmer pat for Marka, and then he left the room, shutting the door behind himself.

He clapped his hands; it was nice to be helpful.