I steel my nerve, refusing to let her intimidate me, although she very much does. “You don’t think I can hurt you,” I say.
No,” she admits. She sounds bored. “Not like the others.” The face with the multiple eyes returns in time for her to laugh again. “You move things. Large things sometimes. But that’s not enough. What hurts us is we can’t hurt your sister. Not with you around to help her mend.”
She shakes her head, allowing the face of one the Caucasian witches to make a brief appearance. “The healing, small person. That’s what we must rid ourselves of. That’s what we hate. We can’t kill the Mate and her spawn. No, no, no. Not with you around.”
Bren’s growls shake the ceiling, allowing more glacial water to spout in different sections. It rains down on me in sheets, icing over my already wintry skin.
All right. Enough of this.
I peg Bren with a look that tells him it’s time. His nod is barely perceptible, but it’s there, and it’s all I need to act.
“You think my healing ability is my biggest threat?” I ask.
Una froths at the mouth, anxious to take a bite. “What else do you have?”
I smile. “The ability to shred you apart.”
In a holler of rage, my force unleashes, sending jagged fragments of stone from the sandy floor soaring upward. They strike in a brutal wave, slitting Una’s skin and hacking into her underbelly. She screams as dissected chunks of flesh pelt the air.
Bren and I remain safe, cocooned in her tentacles and protected from the sharp fragments slashing Una apart.
Her hold loosens.
But I’m not done.
My gaze latches onto her face. In one unsparing move, my touch extracts her eyes from their sockets.
Chapter Fifteen
Bren
The winter before my best friend, Danny, became a werewolf he caught the flu. I didn’t know what the hell to do with him. Snot was coming out of all sorts of places I didn’t know existed. It was nasty. I couldn’t deal with it.
Emme couldn’t heal him. She can’t heal any illnesses. But she knew exactly what to do. She brought over homemade chicken soup. She changed his sheets. She covered him with a soft blanket she knitted just for him. She made sure he had enough to eat and that he drank plenty of water. She took care of business.
Just like she’s doing now.
The eyes she wrenches from Octobitch’s head fly in all directions, except for one. As the Puss loses her grip, I kick away from the wall.
I launch forward, catching Emme as she falls and curling my body into hers. With a wicked splash we land in the water along with the rocks Emme used as weapons.
My ass and back take a beating as I stroke like a banshee to get us to the other side. It’s not pretty and hurts like hell.
And it’s worth it. I spare Emme from all of it.
We surface near sections of stacked stone. I shove Emme toward a pile that should hold. She reaches for the ledge. I reach for her ass, pushing her up.
Una whips about, flailing and searching for us as ink pours from her face and damaged limbs. “What did one sheep herder say to the other?” I ask.
Emme turns. “What?” she asks.
“Let’s get the flock outta here.”
There’s that smile and determination I love. She climbs as fast as her small frame allows.
Except, I shouldn’t have said jack. Una may be blind, but she’s not deaf. Her head wrenches in my direction. I leap, changing into my wolf and scurrying up the wall.
Emme has barely climbed more than a few feet. She stops and shoots her hand out, her teeth gleaming as she clamps them down.
I don’t see what Emme sees until severed limbs slap the space near my hind legs. I launch off the wall, using the weight of my six-hundred-pound beast to slam down on Una’s head.
I’m back in the damn water, and Una doesn’t want to let go. I chew and rake through the remains of two limbs before I break free and resurface.
Swimming is one of my strengths. But the force of the water busting through the ceiling is almost more than my beast can take.
The cell is filling fast. I’m trying to keep pace with all the crashing waves triggered by the influx of water and Una’s spasmatic movements. I scramble out of her reach each time she nears, but only just barely.
It takes some muscle and speed to put enough space between us. I swim in a zigzag pattern to avoid those freak hands. With the motion of the lake and all the debris I’m trying to avoid, I struggle to reach what remains of the wall.
My paws dig into the rock. It brittles beneath my weight and almost right away, I’m back in the water. I try again, fighting for each stride I make, all while checking to make sure Emme hasn’t fallen.
Waves splash against my tail. I’m making headway, just not fast enough. This place will cave inward in one shot and it’s filling faster than we planned.
I jerk my head up, hoping like hell Emme still has room to breathe.
Pure fucking joy has me wagging my tail when I find Emme cowering in a small groove within the wall.
“Bren,” she says.
I can’t tell if she’s crying or if she’s just wet. It doesn’t damn well matter. I’ve never been so happy to see this pretty face.
She clutches my neck, her slender arms giving warmth and love all at once. “You’re here,” she stammers.
Jesus. Her lips are blue, her skin is the color of my ass, and she’s shaking out of control. I change to speak to her, wishing to heaven and back I could just hold her.
“Time to go, baby,” I tell her. “You ready?”
She glances up to what remains of the translucent shield, her gaze targeting a hole just big enough for two. “Not really,” she admits.
I smile. Or at least try to. “Neither am I, but
