Every last one of them is aiming rifles in our direction, and they can most definitely see us. The contrast of their clothing to their weapons is so startling all I can do is stare at first.
Xers.
Instinctively I know who they are. A life flash tries to pop into my vision, but one of their guns goes off again. Pain sears through my shoulder, knocking me backward as I let out a little cry. Shock stops me more than anything else.
“You shot me!” It comes out more like I’m offended by an insult, than suffering from a bullet wound.
Black shadows snake into the air from the hole just below my clavicle. Confusion wraps around me as my brain attempts to make sense of this. I’m dead. How could I possibly get shot? Before my stupid musings can get me into more trouble, Rafe whips me out of the way of another bullet and puts his back to the Xers.
One of the guns goes off again. He stumbles forward, wincing and letting out a grunt, then lifts me into his arms. I squeeze my eyes shut against tears as fire pulses up my neck. Curling into Rafe’s chest, I focus on his cedar scent. Air rushes around me. He shouts something I don’t understand at first, then I realize is a single word: Kaz.
I squint, but everything around me ripples, smearing into a blurred mess. Even with the fog clogging my senses, I recognize the Xers’ chants. Cold fear hardens in my gut. They’re trying to trap us, lock us into a nearby object. Power tugs at my very essence and I cling to Rafe. I can’t let this happen.
I won’t let this happen.
With absolutely no thought as to how I know the words, I murmur a counter spell under my breath. Our magic collides, pushing against each other, resisting opposing purposes. Mine shoves Rafe and me away from the Xers. I can’t see them, but I know it’s happening. We stumble into Kaz, who grabs my arm and Rafe’s shoulder, and then we’re again sliding across the sky.
Sheer agony throbs through me as we touch down at Locklear. The last thing I see is Rafe bending over me, fading off into shadow.
Chapter Sixteen
Words echo through my sluggish mind. Or around me. Actually, I’m not sure where they’re coming from. A woman’s reedy voice swirls in my ears. I fight to understand her, but my brain can’t make sense of the sounds and syllables. Straining to hear more clearly, I let out a whimper that’s way more pathetic than I care to admit.
Cold numbs me and my stiff limbs won’t do what I tell them. A part of my brain understands that pain hovers just beyond my reach. The moment that cold thaws, agony will hit full force. My inability to move fuels my terrified confusion. I try to struggle against it, hearing myself whine yet again.
Then a hand touches my face.
It’s warm and callous and smells of cedar. Rafe. I peel my eyes open to see those dark eyes, that trio of freckles, those kissable lips. Still only half aware of the reality of this situation, I cup the back of his neck, my thumb trailing across the faint red scars I would do anything to wipe away.
“You’re sad.” My tongue tangles. “So sad. I don’t want you to be sad...smash all the glass...that woman doesn’t deserve good glass...”
He lets out a breath and ducks his head. “You’re okay, a little loopy, but okay. Thank goodness. How do you feel?”
I groan as my thoughts finally speed up and start to come together. That numbness slowly fades, so naturally, pain follows. Fire pulses out from the spot on my shoulder, clawing across my chest and down my stomach and up my throat. I dig the fingers of my free hand into the blanket under me, so I don’t reach up to touch it.
“Don’t ask stupid questions. Everything hurts. All of it.” I wince. “You didn’t get hit did you?”
With a slight laugh, Rafe waves a hand and sits next to me. I only realize then that I’m lying on one of the stiff beds in the Healer Ward. The room isn’t huge, but there’s enough space for about six of those beds and a pair of desks near the front door. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Ms. Alvarez hovering by her desk with a clipboard, lips puckered to one side.
“It’s just a flesh wound,” Rafe says. “But they’re shocked you’re still functioning after the hit you took, and that crazy spell you performed. Where did that come from?”
“I’m not sure.” I grimace when I try to adjust. “The words just came to my mind. Kind of like a song you know the lyrics to so well that you don’t even have to think about it. I don’t know if that makes sense.”
“It does,” Rafe says. “Kaz says we wouldn’t have made it out of there without that spell. Thanks for saving us.”
“Thanks for carrying me like a damsel in distress. Though if anyone asks, I was a force to be reckoned with that didn’t have to be swept off my feet. In retellings, I expect to be portrayed as a warrior queen who neutralized half the Xers before we ran.”
We both laugh and the movement jars my injured shoulder. When I wince, Rafe’s face falls. “Kaz says they hit us with spelled salt, or something like that. Ms. Alvarez says it’ll take a few days for the pain to go away.”
“Psh, rude.” Again, I resist the urge to touch the painful spot. “Please tell me I’m going to come out of this with an awesome scar at least.”
It takes a little doing, but I’m finally able to crane my neck enough to see the place where the special bullet or whatever hit me. The sleeve of my tank top
