Page 11 of Traitor Witch (The Deadwood #1)

Chapter Eleven

CASIMIR

I ’m cheating at cards—and winning—when the cat leaps up to Kier and jabs its claws into the fae’s inner thigh. I wince in sympathy as he shoots into the air with a yell that could wake the dead. It takes Kier seconds to reach down and extract its claws from his flesh, but the cat just goes straight for him again.

I can’t help my chuckle because, so far, the little tabby seems quite fond of anyone who feeds or strokes her. Obviously, Kier and Val haven’t figured that out, and I have no intention of telling them when the results are so funny to watch.

But when the cat goes after Rysen? That’s when we all know something’s wrong.

I lurch to my feet, staring at the cat in confusion.

“Nilsa?” I ask.

The feline nods at me.

I’m worried enough that I don’t even question it .

All three of us bolt for the hatch, supernatural speed making the distance to her door take less than a second.

Val’s already there. “What the hell is the witch doing?” he demands, rubbing his arms like he’s trying to ward off a chill.

The door is iced over, but Rysen ignores that and kicks it open, charging into Nilsa’s cabin like a man possessed.

She’s not here.

The whole room is covered in a layer of frost, and we look at Kier who shrugs.

No. This isn’t his doing.

We spin on the spot, searching for our mate.

The cat doesn’t have time for us; she leaps from Rysen’s arms and bolts into the bathroom like a creature possessed.

I don’t hesitate, storming after her and into a scene from my worst nightmares.

Nilsa’s head has fallen back over the rim of the bath, her dark hair spilling down to the floor as she lounges in a block of solid ice. Her skin has turned from a rich peaches and cream to the pale colour of death, her lips a ghostly blue.

I don’t think she’s breathing.

My beast roars, trying to force his way forward. His only thought getting to his mate.

Scales flash across my skin.

My bones ache from resisting the change, but I force him back with a strength I’ve never possessed before now.

A loud crack rends the air. The ice splinters under Kier’s command and the fae wastes no time, pulling her limp form out of the cold and shoving her frozen body into my arms.

Calm down, I try to placate my beast, she needs us to warm her up. If we shift now, we destroy the ship and she’ll die.

My beast stills, which I take as an encouraging sign. I drag Nilsa’s body as close as I can. Shifters have the highest body heat of any supernatural; our fast metabolisms and unique brand of magic bring our ability to stay warm in the coldest depths of the ocean to our human forms.

Her heart is still intact, and her head is still attached; there’s a good chance she’ll survive this.

But her breathing is still shallow. Her eyes are closed, but the lines of strain around them make it clear it’s not a peaceful rest.

My beast growls in my head, bucking against his restraints.

It takes everything I have just to grind my teeth together and stay human.

If you let me stay, I’ll bring her to swim with you, I promise the beast.

My other side will hold me to the bargain. Creatures of the deep have long memories, and he's no exception, but hopefully by then Nilsa will be more comfortable around us, and willing to go for a dip in the open ocean.

His next growl is quieter, and I know I’ve won this round.

“Come on.” Rysen rips open the vein at his wrist with his fangs and lets the blood drip into her mouth.

The cat twirls around our legs, mewling for her witch.

I’m pretty sure none of us breathe as we wait for her to swallow.

The first time her throat moves, I almost disregard it as wishful thinking.

Her next gulp comes with a tiny moan, and I almost drop her in relief.

Ry lets her suck at his vein for a few more seconds before pulling his arm away. Too much of his vampiric blood will mess with her magic for hours, and although vamp blood is a popular high for many, I can’t see our witch being into it.

Now that she’s improving, colour returning as a result of Rysen’s blood, the questions start flooding into my brain.

Chief among them, “What happened? ”

“Is she safe?” For a second I think Val’s asking me, but a quick glance in his direction shows he’s addressing the cat. “Will there be any more attacks?”

I squeeze our mate closer as we wait for the cat to answer.

But the feline just rolls its eyes and struts from the room.

Val follows, the rest of us trailing behind him. When the cat pauses at the door frame, butting her nose against the two unfinished sigils Nilsa had started carving the night before, Val glowers at her.

“Fine.” He flicks a glance at Nilsa, then back at the rest of us. “One of you lot make her come and see me when she wakes up.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before he sinks into the floor, the wooden boards swallowing him.

“She okay?” Nos stumbles through the doorway, panting. “I didn’t See anything, but I heard the commotion and came as fast as I could.”

I stare down at the woman in my arms. The stress has eased from her face, and now she could be sleeping. “She is now.”

I’m reluctant to relinquish her to the bed. My beast whines at the loss, but he’s instantly pacified when I climb in beside her and pull her close to me.

Purely for warmth, of course.

She’s still cold to the touch, her skin damp from the ice.

Nos feels his way over and climbs in on her other side, sandwiching her between us while Rysen stands vigil at the end of the bed. All of us remain tense, wondering if whoever came after her will be back to finish the job.

I’m pretty sure we’re all silently begging for her to wake up too.

Hours pass before she starts to stir.

Kier, who’s spent the time patiently removing the ice from her room, disappears into the shadows the moment her eyelids start to flutter. She’s silent as she wakes up, no stretching or moving. Nilsa takes in all three of us and the open door to the bathroom before her whole body stiffens.

“What happened?” Her voice is scratchy as her eyes find the cat, still sleeping on the covers at the foot of the bed.

“Your familiar helped us find you,” I answer. “Opal sank her claws into everyone until we got the hint. Kier broke you out of the ice, and Rysen gave you a bit of his blood to keep you alive until we got you warm.”

She pushes up and noticeably pulls away from both of us. The moonlight from the window makes her skin glow as she rubs at her temples.

“Who attacked you?” Nos whispers.

Nilsa is silent for so long I think she won’t answer. “My coven.” Her voice has a tiny, broken hitch at the end, and I have to force myself to stay where I am and not hug her. “I was stupid. It won’t happen again.”

“Are you safe now?” Rysen demands, arms crossed over his chest.

“I think so. The ship is a moving target and harder to get a lock on now that I’ve gotten rid of my trace magic.”

She may as well be speaking another language for all the sense that makes, but Rysen nods like he understands before turning and striding from the room.

Nilsa stares after him for a moment, but I draw her attention back to me with a small smile.

“Val wants to see you when you’re feeling up to it.” Keeping my hands to myself when she’s next to me is harder than I’d like to admit, and it’s only made worse by how sleep-mussed and adorable she looks right now.

I can’t help pushing a stray lock of dark hair out of her eyes.

The creature within me doesn’t see the point in waiting. No. My beast would rather I mate her here and now. He sees claiming the other half of my soul as natural and resisting as stupid.

I try to express how upset it would make her, but I don’t think the point makes it across. We’re so caught up in our mental argument that when she pushes my shoulder, I instantly let her out of bed rather than insisting she rest a little more.

Despite my concern, she doesn’t wobble as she heads for the bathroom. The steel in her spine as she turns to face us in the doorway makes me question, again, how she can belong to a coven of healers yet be made of such warrior fire. Her white robe, stained with Rysen’s blood, only adds to the impression and I find myself getting hard as my mind summons the image of her in nothing but leather and the blood of her enemies.

I shake away the fantasy with a mental eye roll. Our mate is a gentle—albeit stubborn—Solar. Not a fighter. Definitely not the leather and blood type.

“Thank you for your help.” I can see her eyebrows crease with a frown as she considers her next words. “I owe you a debt.” Her expression is carefully blank, but her closed-off body language tells a different story. Our witch is uncomfortable by the admission.

“You owe me nothing,” Nos interrupts. “I didn’t foresee this, I didn’t help free you…”

Nilsa shoots him a glare he should be grateful not to see. “I owe the debt. That’s final.”

I shrug, downplaying the entire thing. “Can I use the debt to get you to come out on deck with us? The fresh air will do you good after what happened, and you can find out whatever Val wants.”

Plus, the deck is one step closer to the swim my beast will soon demand of her.

Her face doesn’t change, but the powdery sweet smell of fear fills my nostrils as soon as I finish speaking. My beast shudders in displeasure beneath my skin, demanding we kill whatever has spooked our mate.

Easier said than done. I have no idea what’s scared her, so I take a stab in the dark.

“You’re not scared of Val, are you?” I ask.

She turns the withering glare she gave Nos on me, and I have to admit, it’s impressive.

“Stop smelling my emotions. And for your information, no. I am not scared of your asshole Captain.”

“Then what is it?” Nos is so quiet I can barely hear him. “You can tell us.”

Nilsa scowls. “I appreciate your help, but my feelings are none of your business.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder and disappears into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

“What freaked her out?” Nos’s harsh whisper disrupts the staring match I’m having with the wood.

I grimace. “I don’t know.”

The corner of my twin’s mouth twitches. “From what I’ve seen in my visions, our mate isn’t the type to ever admit to fearing anything. Pushing her to trust us with her feelings, even if you’re doing it with good intentions, is likely to prove counterproductive.”

My reply is cut off by the bathroom door opening once more.

Our mate stands there, framed in moonlight like a physical incarnation of the Goddess. Her robe is clean once again, her eyes glowing with light.

“I’m still tired,” she mutters. “I’d prefer to rest for a little while. I’ll speak with Valorean when I wake up.”

Nos, recognising the dismissal for what it is, climbs out of the bed with a gentle smile. “Of course. ”

I’m not so easily dissuaded. “Sure you don’t need a hot shifter to keep you warm, princess?”

She bites her lip, eyes flaring with interest, but shakes her head.

Gah, Solar witches. Maybe Nos is right and Fate really does hate us.