Page 58 of Witchbane

My heart began to slow. Some of the fear leeched away as the warmth of his body heat spread to me. My leg throbbed, feeling extending into my hip now. I stared at the kitsune, afraid if I looked away, he’d attack.

Moving slowly, trying not to startle the kitsune, I turned my head, fearing what might have happened. I looked at the leg. At least if the kitsune killed me, the pain would stop.

My back leg was blackened and oozing a green pus. Gross. It seemed as though I’d gotten it wrapped up in thorns, and had then forgotten to unwrap it? The vine covered in long, thick, thorns looked more at home in a Catholic church on the head of a Jesus statue than anything I’d ever seen in the wild. How would I have stumbled into that and not noticed it? Ignored it long enough that it was causing infection? That’s why it throbbed with pain, and shot through my hip.

The kitsune licked my head again, seeming to take the time to clean my ears. I turned my gaze back its way to find an intense blue gaze I couldn’t look away from. There was a tug inside, trying to reach beyond the panic, like it was trying to speak to me. Staring into those familiar eyes, I could suddenly hear counting.

86…85…84…83…82

I listened hard, following the voice in my head, letting the numbers sink in first, then the familiarity of it. Those blue eyes remained focused on me, even while he bathed my face and neck in soothing strokes with his tongue.

It couldn’t be…

No running,the voice chided me.You promised no more running without me.

Liam? The kitsune was Liam?

He turned his giant head and yawned. I was speechless. How was this possible?

He rolled over onto his back and presented his belly, head lulled in my direction with his gaze focused on me. He waited. I breathed.

Was this real?

Slowly I got to my feet, and took a step toward him, but my back leg screamed in pain. I dropped back down and glared at the injury.

Liam rolled back over, making me tense, but he stayed low, on his belly while examining me. Could he see the thorns?

Fuck, they hurt.

Assured Liam wasn’t about to attack me, I turned and began to gnaw at the vine near my hip, trying to pull it free. Moving it at all made the thorns tear into me. And I got a sudden memory of being a kid and one of the pack screaming at me.

Not one of us. Worthless brat. Shouldn’t be here.

Odd how vivid that memory was. I let go of the branch, the memory stinging as much as the thorns.

Liam yipped at me, a small sound of worry. I had to focus on breathing again to quiet the memory of those angry words thrown at a helpless kid, in order to hear him.

Seb? Can you hear me? What’s wrong?

He couldn’t see the vine, could he? I stared at him and blinked, trying to open up my senses, to let him in. The pain seemed to act as a natural barrier. We’d worked on my meditation skills a lot. Most of them focused on breathing, a release of some sort of natural shield I’d developed over the years. Most people thought of meditation as quieting the mind, but the brain was loud. And meditating was more about focusing beyond the noise.

Opening up to him hurt, the reflex relaxing slowly, the barrier fading between us. But I felt him settle over me, like a warm blanket draping me in a soft hug. He flinched when he encountered the pain, head turning to look at my leg, catching his first real look at the issue.

He leapt up, and chuffed, then licked my muzzle again before sniffing along my side to the leg. He snarled at the injury. But he could be mad at it all he wanted, that wasn’t helping.

He scented along the vine, carefully taking a bit of branch with his teeth and trying to gnaw it apart. His touch sent a wave of memories up. The memory of theHuntchasing Robin, and the terror of seeing something in the dark, undefined. Felix’s first attack, a barrage of fists for doing nothing more than handing out tea.Apa’spack filled with hate and disdain. I turned and nipped him hard with my teeth, almost expecting him to end me for the slight.

Liam let go, face pressing to mine. I’d lost his voice again beneath the pain of the memories and the growing ache in my leg. But the branch he’d grabbed was severed. A tear had appeared in the middle that made me wonder if it could be pulled free.

He licked my face again, blue gaze intense, trying to tell me something, though the memories were too loud to sort through. He sat down, pressing his belly to the ground and sniffing at my leg. I didn’t want him messing with it. It hurt too much.

He yawned, looked away, waiting, sniffed at the leg again. Then he put his nose to the ground and placed a paw over it. The memories began to fade. I could hear the counting again.

52…51…50…

Why had it taken so long to hear him again? I let out a sigh and sat down beside him.

We need to get it off,his voice was soft but worried, words slow.You with me?