Page 6 of Witchblood
Chapter 3
“Iplan to ask him when he wakes up.”
“If he wakes up,” someone was saying.
“He’ll wake up. He’s been in and out a couple times already,” the first voice answered. His tone was soft, soothing and close. My whole body ached, it wasn’t pleasant, but I didn’t feel like I was dying. The pain also meant I wasn’t actually dead. Which made me wonder where I was. Did the werewolves have me? If so, which ones?
It was sad that I immediately thought of begging them to call home for me. Not that I really had a home. MaybeApawould take me back. Maybe he’d send help. Maybe he’d just put me out of his misery.
Inside my gut, almost for the first time in ages, something sat quietly and settled. Anxiety almost non-existent. I’d lived so long with the overwhelming pressure that its absence was remarkable. Had I truly felt this way before that night? Free of the endless fear? Usually not even sleep offered a full sanctuary. Maybe I wasn’t dead, but dying, and that’s why I felt no fear. I tried to open my eyes, but just didn’t have the energy. Sleep lingered just out of reach, teetering me on the edge of the darkness again. I waited for it to pull me back down, only it didn’t.
A warm hand touched my head as though feeling for a fever. “He’s not running hot anymore. That’s a good sign.”
“His blood mixed with the wolf I killed.”
I was with the wolves who’d attacked the ones chasing me. That, of course, didn’t mean I was safe. “It’s well known that he’s immune.” Werewolves were never born. They were made. Violence and death changed them much the same way vampires created their own. Most of the truly awful curses were blood related. I knew that from experience even if mine was from tainted blood at birth. Growing up in a wolf pack gave me plenty of opportunity to watch thegiftbecome a curse.
“Witchbornusually are immune. For a good reason,” the other snarled. “I say dump him back where he belongs. We don’t need that kind of trouble here,” the man sounded irate, moving back and forth, likely because he was pacing. “Felix has a reward out for him.”
“Which Xander has already overridden. They almost went to war over it. Only no one will fight Xander. Not even Felix,” the voice close to me said. “And if Felix comes my way, I’ll just beat the shit out of him again.”
“You’re too cocky sometimes.”
“It’s not cocky when stating facts. The only reason Felix still lives is because Xander wishes it so.”
Xander Volkov is my adoptive father and leader of the North American werewolves. Felix is his youngest son and my former lover. It was rare the two fought over anything. I was apparently the exception as they’d been fighting over me since I’d turned sixteen and caught Felix’s ever roving eye.
“Let them sort it out. Dump him back in the Volkov’s territory and be done with it.”
“He is not a puppy to be dropped off on the side of the road. If he wishes to leave once he’s well, he can go. If he wants help returning to the Volkov, I will help. If he asks for sanctuary, that too, I will allow him.”
“Even if it means bringing the wrath of the Volkov down on us? We are a small pack.”
“Agrowingpack,” the man closest to me said. “The Volkov put me in charge of the area. Gave me specific instructions. He’s not going to come raging through because we’ve helped thewitchchild.”
“You’re being unreasonable,” the first man said.
There was a tiny bit of chill that charged the air. Anger from the man perched beside me. Restrained but unmistakable since it wafted through the room with tangible energy like tiny needles, just ready to strike.
“Forgive me, Alpha.”
The silence lasted a moment longer before the man beside me said,“You can go. Call Dylan. Once he arrives he can replace you as guard. I think you’re tired.”
“Yes, sir.” I heard a door open and close.
The man’s hands were on me again, soft and soothing over my face and down my arms. My tattoos didn’t react to him at all. No malice in him then. At least not for me. I sucked in a deep breath and tried again to open my eyes. There was a lamp in the corner as the only source of light, but even that hurt my eyes. I squinted back tears and rainbows. Had the wolf cracked my skull? It had felt that way at the time, only now it was just a mild throb. At least the anxiety didn’t rear its ugly head.
“Sebastian Volkov, it’s good to see you awake.”
“Not dead?” I asked. The words came out in a half grumble as I blinked furiously to clear my vision. The light wasn’t so bad, and the room was filled with shadows.
“No. Thankfully. Though our local witch suggests you rest a few days as your injuries were severe.” The man who hovered over me finally solidified from a wobbly shadow into Liam, the manager from the bakery. An old memory leapt into my head of a night long ago, someone leaning over me in the dark as blood blotted out my vision, and then it was gone.
“Did you follow me?” I asked, trying to roll over only to realize I was naked in a bed, with only a thin blanket separating us. Fuck.
Not many knew of the number of tattoos I’d added in the past year for protection. I had hoped to keep that information from Xander and, most especially, Felix. Had that been why Liam was touching me? He was studying the spells? I’d need to start filling up my right arm soon with distraction and look-not-at-me spells. Though I really hated to lose full use of that one too.
“No. I didn’t go looking for you until one of my wolves said they’d spotted your car on the side of the road. There is a lot of open land out here, and not much traffic. It was sheer luck that they spotted your car so soon.”