Phantom Fae Page 8

  "What?" Ena said. The woman had to be mad.

  "The arrowheads are loosely attached to the rods. They're designed to break away and make it more difficult to extract. If we attempt to pull the bolts out, the arrowheads will remain inside. Even we cannot heal with metal such as that inside us. You know how it is. Archers rest the bolts in the dirt before they fire them, and so the young man will have dirt inside his wounds also. I have herb poultices that will fight any bacteria, but the arrowheads must come out. The way they are shaped, we can't pull them the way they went in. We would have to cut more tissue and through tendons and muscle to extract them. If you have already had a healer see to him, which I can see you have as she packed the wounds with herbs, she knew how difficult this would be. And how risky to the injured young man."

  "But he will have more damage to tissue and such as we push the bolts through," Ena said.

  "He will die if we do not try."

  "All right." Even though Ena had hesitated to agree, her brother and Alton had already set Brett down, shifted, and were moving tables close together, but with a gap so that the bolts would have no blockage as they pushed them through.

  Then they lifted Brett on top of the two tables.

  "Now, as much as I know this will hurt him, it has to be done. The two of you men will pound the bolts through. I will prepare the herbs medicine, and my needles and thread. I will require more light as the sun fades. So Freya and you must fill all the lamps with oil and light them. When we are done, I'll have one of you offer him something to drink that will help ease his pain."

  "He is so still," Ena said, moving to fill the lamps with oil as Freya was doing.

  "He is in a catatonic state from the pain. Maybe he called on mage skills to counter the pain. No matter what, if he doesn't stay still, it could be worse than it already is for him, and for us," the healer said.

  "All right. Do you have chains?" Ena asked.

  "No use for them. But I have vines clinging to the trees out back that are as strong as ten men. Freya can take you to get them. In the meantime, I'll apply some of this medication to his wounds."

  "And his blood loss?"

  "Only our healing genetics can take care of that. Which may take some time even at that."

  Ena didn't like the sound of that. "All right. Let's go, Freya." Ena prayed again that they could save Brett's life and hoped he would want to stay with her after all this was through. Though she loved the hawk fae's generosity, she wanted to go home to the dragon fae kingdom. If they could rid themselves of Prince Grotto, and Princess Alicia took over, maybe they would be able to return home to their own castles.

  But first, they needed to save Brett's life.

  Chapter 9

  The healer was right in thinking Brett had used some kind of mage ability to numb the pain. Maybe some of it was from the severed nerves, the adrenaline rushing through his blood, and the shock of it all. Except for some discomfort, he didn't feel anything but a throbbing ache.

  He wished he could have knocked himself out completely. He didn't like the idea that they would have to hammer the bolts clear through him. He was afraid all the magic in the world wouldn't make that much pain go away. But he didn't understand the healer's claim that he wasn't one of them. Why? Because he was a mage? Because he had turned into a dragon?

  He couldn't believe Halloran had come to help take him to a healer. Nor that Alton would either. Not after he pummeled him good with his fists. Yet even then, the fight seemed to make Alton see him in a different light. More like he wasn't just a weakling human.

  He thought Alton and Ena's brother would not like it that he had turned into a dragon like one of them though. Most of all, what helped him to ignore the pain was concentrating on how Ena had been caressing his head. Even though a dragon was all scales and impervious to heat and cold, to fire and ice, to so much more, he could still feel the tickling warmth of her hand on his head, the way she was so tender with her touch. He had wanted to open his eyes, smile at her for her thoughtfulness, something, but he hadn't been able to manage anything but breathing in and out, the effort taking the greatest of strength beyond keeping himself from feeling the pain.

  He was surprised to hear Freya was also at the healer's cottage when he had hoped Elorian would unfreeze Zane and then force him to recant the curse he'd bestowed upon her.

  When they began to tie Brett down with vines, he didn't like the confinement one bit and started to move.

  "No, Brett, stay still!" Ena called out, and put her hand on his nose.

  Instantly, he quieted. Not because he wanted to for anyone other than Ena. He wanted to please her. Had always wanted to please her for the way that she had saved his life. He would be indebted to her always.

  "He is aware," the healer said, even though his breath was ragged, and he still couldn't open his eyes. Even though he wished to, just to see Ena and to let her know he had every intention of coming out of this ordeal alive.

  "He'll feel the pain," Ena said, worried.

  "Keep comforting him. You have helped to calm him," the healer said.

  Then she must have motioned to the men because without another word, they began to pound on the bolts. Both of them at the same time! Why couldn't they do one and then let him rest up for the other. He roared in pain and Ena wrapped her arms around his neck, her face against his, her tears dripping onto his cheek. He stilled then, as much as he could, gritted back the pain, tried another spell to numb the agony.

  "Almost through," Halloran sounded triumphant, but then there was a crack, and a pause. He swore under his breath.

  He'd cracked one of Brett's ribs, but he hadn't broken it clean through. He must have angled the bolt and hammered again, missing the rib.

  Brett didn't remember anything after that. He was shrouded in pain and clouds, of floating faces and the smell of antiseptics. Like he was in a hospital room.

  He attempted to open his eyes. He couldn't be back home in a human hospital bed. Not as a dragon. Not when he was not human but a fae.

  "Brett," Ena said softly, stroking his arm. "The healer said you had lost too much blood. She did what she could, but I had to bring you to a hospital. The same one you were in before."

  "Dragon," he said, his mouth feeling as though it was stuffed with cotton and the word sounded foreign to his ears.

  "You shifted. I brought you here at once. We heal if we haven't lost too much blood. We don't do transfusions in the fae world. It's too…" She wrinkled her nose. "Just not done. No fae would stand for having blood from another fae running through his veins."

  "Transfus…," Brett said, unable to get the rest of the word out. He felt a low throbbing pain from one side of his body all the way through to the other side and every centimeter in between.

  "Yes. I gave blood for you. Though it's not normally done. I…I had to do something for you after what you did for me."

  "You would have done the same for me," he finally managed to rasp out.

  "Don't kid yourself. After seeing what you went through? No way."

  He smiled, though he thought if a bolt had nearly killed him, she would have done anything to protect him.

  As if she knew what he was thinking, she folded her arms and looked cross at him. "I would have killed the archer, not flown in front of the bolts in flight. What were you thinking, pulling a stupid stunt like that? You could have died!"

  "I…I thought I could grab them in my teeth. I flew faster than I thought I would. And got ahead of the bolts when I believed I would have been able to snatch them out of the air."

  She laughed, then shook her head. "Okay. I feel better. I was afraid you were insane to have done something so—"

  "Heroic?"

  She smiled and he felt heartened by it. Then he frowned. "How did you get me here?"

  "My brother carried you into the hospital, saying we'd been out playing paintball in the woods and some guy was hunting with a crossbow and shot you. But afraid he'd be charged with a crime, he r
an off. After the police questioned Halloran, which thoroughly amused him, my brother left. He decided to help fight against Prince Grotto. The police will be questioning you also."

  "Great. I hope different police officers are here this time."

  "Might be, but we're in the same police jurisdiction. I'm certain from the last time you were here they probably have a record about you. What was it you said? You were playing some game reenactment the last time you were injured?"

  "Yes. How did your brother come up with the idea of a paintball game? That's a good one."

  "He's played them here before. He would like to bring the game back to our world, but we fight for real, so those ruling the kingdoms said no."

  "How bad are my injuries?" Brett was afraid it would take forever to heal and how was he going to pay for all this?

  "Your injuries were bad. Halloran said he was sorry for breaking your rib. He didn't break it clean through, but he really was trying to hammer the bolt as quickly as he could so that it would be out of your body and you could begin to heal. But it wasn't enough. Not with all the blood loss."

  "What did the doctor say?"

  "I read your chart, but it was a little cryptic, hospital jargon. But I was eavesdropping during your surgery, too. You are lucky to be alive. They cleaned out the debris, sutured you back up, pumped you full of antibiotics, and they said it would still be a miracle for you to live as many organs and muscles were severed as the bolts tore through them. Not to mention the blood loss. The police kept the bolts. I overheard them say they were handmade. The doctors don't know about our healing genetics though and you'll need to leave before they discover you're healing too fast."

  "I might be healing fast, but it sure feels slow to me. By the way, what did the healer want in payment for helping me?"

  "She didn't save you. The humans did."

  "But she risked discovery if anyone investigated what was going on."

  "She wants you to undo Freya's curse. That's it. She seems to love her like a sister," Ena said.

  "I've already promised to."

  "She thinks you'll forget."

  "Why?"

  "I cannot take you back to the hawk fae kingdom right away where you would be safe. It's too far to travel. We would have to camp out in the phantom fae woods and we would be at risk of capture."

  "We stay here then?"

  "We can't risk the human staff seeing you heal so quickly. Yet you need several days to be more yourself."

  "Where then?"

  "It's risky, but my brother and my suitors plan to get rid of whoever has seized my castle. We will use it as a staging ground for battle maneuvers. There, you can heal."

  "Will you return to your home if Prince Grotto's reign is ended?"

  "Yes. It is home."

  "Will you take me back as your gardener?"

  Ena let out her breath. She was totally exasperated with her staff. "You may be the only one left in my employ."

  "What has happened to your staff?"

  "Unless I am mistaken, they have disobeyed me and are trying to fight this war also."

  Brett smiled.

  Ena frowned at him.

  "They love you."

  "If they loved me, they would obey me."

  They heard someone coming and she said, "Shoot, I had hoped you'd be dressed before anyone came."

  "I don't think I can get out of this bed yet."

  "It's the police. I recognize their voices." She got Brett's fae clothes out of a cabinet and shoved them into his arms.

  He groaned.

  "Sorry. We have to move, now. Hold onto the I.V. also, and I'll hold onto you. Are you ready?"

  He was in pain, generally sore all over, and trying to keep his grip on his clothes and the pole with the I.V. was going to be tough. Until her arms went around her in a firm hold and all he could think of was Ena, the light fragrance of honeysuckle she wore, the way she held him fiercely as if she was afraid she'd lose him, the way she placed her cheek against his chest. When the darkness faded and he was sitting on the grassy ground in a forest, he thought she had lost her way or couldn't hold onto him any longer.

  But then she was kneeling beside him, holding his hand and looking worried.

  "What's wrong?" he whispered.

  "You passed out on me. I thought I was going to drop you. We're near my castle, but I needed to make sure that it's safe to take you there. If my brother and my friends haven't retaken it, we'll have to wait here until they do. Are you going to be all right?"

  "Yeah. I'll just lie down here and wait for you."

  She glanced down at his bare legs. He was wearing only the hospital gown with little brown bears on it. "I should have grabbed the blanket off the bed."

  "I'll try to dress while you're gone."

  "All right."

  That was the last he remembered before the darkness descended again.

  Chapter 10

  Ena was torn about leaving Brett alone in the woods in his injured condition should anyone happen upon him. She heard fighting in the distance, though not from the direction of her castle. She would be quick about it and return pronto. She couldn't leave him alone long, not in the bad shape he was still in.

  She appeared in her castle courtyard, and was expecting either a fight with whoever had taken over her castle, or her brother and friends to come out and greet her. What she didn't expect was for her butler, Ryker, to come bounding out. He did not bound out of anywhere. Not ever. He was the most sedate man she'd ever known. She thought it was because he believed that's how butlers behaved. So in a momentary burst of enthusiasm to see her, he suddenly realized his reaction and quickly slowed his pace and took on the role of her usual dignified butler.

  "Brett's badly wounded," she warned. "Was my brother here?"

  "Yes, and he found we had driven Prince Grotto's men from the castle—all on our own. Well, with some of the merchants' help, since they want very much for you and the other shifters to return and do business with them because of the most generous way that you—"

  Ladies shrieks rent the air as the women working for her ran out to greet her, then quickly stopped in place and looked chagrined.

  "If you have to fire us, we will understand, but we had to come and make way for your return," her lady's maid, Muriel said.

  "Aye, we had to put the kitchen back in order," Cook said.

  "I need help bringing Brett here. He's badly wounded," Ena said. "Where's Jacob?"

  "Here," Jacob said. "Where is he?"

  Ena showed Jacob the way, though she didn't mean for all her staff to come with her. They did anyway.

  Of all the fussing! She swore they never fussed that much over her when she was injured or sick. And yet, she loved them for it. Brett would need all the tender loving care he could get until he was healed enough to make it on his own.

  "Where did my brother and the others go?" Ena asked.

  "They decided to take over their castles one castle at a time to use as a safe haven for the dark fae and hawk fae. The shifters' staffs are ready to join them."

  "Don't tell me they did the same as you?"

  "Rightly so, my lady," Ryker said.

  At hearing him use the courtesy, she raised a brow.

  "You are a duchess, by the dark fae queen's ruling. Which means you are now to be called a lady," Ryker reminded her, as if she needed to be reminded.

  She heard the two cleaning maids in Brett's chamber fussing over him. Then her lady's maid hurried to take a new blanket into his room, and Cook was carrying a tray of sweet treats and a bowl of steaming potato soup to give to him.

  "They are glad to see him returned." Ryker folded his arms across his chest as he stood in the Great Hall with Ena, observing the flurry of activity.

  Jacob joined them. "Your brother is sending men to protect the castle and everyone in it. He said to get your rest and watch over Brett. Freya has been with them, but she'll come here once she learned Brett was here."

  Ena frowned a
t the notion. She knew Freya needed Brett's help. That part she understood. But she felt there was more to it than that where Freya and Brett were concerned. At least as far as Freya was interested.

  She heard Brett say something, and Ena strode off to talk to him. She didn’t want her people to think she was going to fall all over him like they were. But when she walked into the room, she saw the members of her staff were all smiles to see him back in his bed. At least they had the foresight to step away from the bed to allow her room to speak with him. His gaze fell on her and the oddest sensation slid through her. In that instant, it was as though something had changed between them. Like no matter how much her staff coddled him and how much she did not, he only had eyes and an interest in seeing her.

  "The castle is secure." She didn't know what else to say when everyone was listening to her. She didn't want to dismiss them and make it seem as though she wished to see him alone.

  Everyone was expecting her to say something more, as if he already had to have assumed the castle was secure and she was supposed to say something else. Something more personal.

  "I want you to rest well. I will stay the remainder of the day and then the night, but after that, I must leave to help win this war against Prince Grotto. My brother is sending reinforcements, so the place will be well-protected."

  "Thank you for bringing me here."

  "I had nowhere else to take you." No matter what, he would not make it sound as though she desired him here.

  "The first time. Thank you for making me part of your—"

  "Staff," she quickly said in the event he was going to say family. Yes, her staff was like family. She treated them that way. Loved them dearly. Paid them generously. Could not leave them behind when she had wanted to protect them, but they had given up everything to go with her. How could she not see them as family?

  But she was a dragon-shifter fae, and she had a reputation to uphold. She wasn't a duchess who wore fancy gowns to functions all the time. She was Ena, wearing her black leather corsets and breeches, and thigh high boots, her hair cut short, not wearing it long like most fae women, and her nails painted black, her eye shadow black too. Some would call her Goth in the human world. In the fae world, there was no such thing. It was just Ena's look. And derived from surviving her parents' death and living under her brother's thumb until she was old enough to break away, earn enough gold, and have a castle built of her own.