Page 78 of Of Flame and Fury
Emme lowers the card and looks at us. “It’s a gift certificate for a tummy tuck—”
“And a chin lift,” Celia interrupts. She lifts two pointy fingertips. “Two chin lifts.”
Without missing a beat, Edith steps into a “ta-da” pose.
Murmurs erupt near the entrance. We scramble as the first of the injuredweresand vamps are helped in.
Celia rushes to her feet, barely taking two steps before Aric is on her, gathering her in his arms. Emme breathes a sigh of relief when Bren appears, carrying a werebear whose bowels are protruding through the gaping wound at his side. She looks at Bren briefly before lowering herself to help mend the bear. Bren is careful not to meet her gaze, but dear God, he seems ready to sweep her into his arms.
Shayna pushes through the throng. There are more supernaturals present than we originally had, yet some that chose to reside with us didn’t return.
“Koda,” she cries out. “Koda, where are you?” She releases a sigh of relief intermixed with a sob when Koda emerges from the growing crowd.
“I’m all right, baby,” Koda tells her.
Shayna tackle straddles Koda. Like the rest of the group, he’s covered in blood. Shayna doesn’t care, and neither do I.
I stroke the fur of Gemini’s twin when he trots to my side. Thick gashes line his pelt, similar to the ones imbedded in Gemini’s chest. I ignore the blood seeping against my cheek when my head falls against his chest.
He’s alive. We were lucky. But not everyone was. “How many did we lose?” I ask.
“Fourteen,” he replies. “Including Misha.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Catholic schoolgirls can’t stop crying. Tim, Misha’s bodyguard, who lost a foot, won’t stop pacing.
Hank, Misha’s other bodyguard, crouches in front of where Celia sits on the floor. Out of all the vampires, he and Agnes are charged with leading the family in Misha’s absence. Agnes because of her high intelligence and Hank because of his muscle and warmonger mentality. The only one above them is Celia. Yeah, it’s nuts. Misha entrusted Celia as Mistress to the House of Aleksandr, a position she became aware of at the worst possible time in her life.
Hank shakes, blood caking his dark hair to his features. He tries to focus regardless of the noise and chaos Misha’s absence brings. “Celia, do you have anything?”
Celia shakes her head, tiny wrinkles forming along her closed eyelids. She’s worked up and just as worried as the vamps are. She hasn’t moved in a while, clutching Misha’s tuxedo jacket against her. Ileana found it and gave it to Celia, hoping his scent would help Celia locate him.
“Celia, come on,” Hank begs her. “You’re more connected to the master than anyone here, can you feel anything?”
Ileana remains naked, with the exception of the tuxedo shirt Misha gave her to wear. I don’t think she likes the idea of Celia having a stronger connection to Misha than she, and I very much don’t care.
Celia opens her eyes, her shoulders sagging as she holds tight to Misha’s Jacket. “Sorry, Hank,” she says, her voice heavy with grief. “There’s nothing. I can’t sense him anywhere in the house.”
“How would you?” Liz snaps, her worry turning quickly to anger. “The Fate has overtaken a fortress the incompetent fucking witches were too weak to hold.”
Said incompetent witches take high offense to the dig. Their amulets glow, casting spheres of light against Misha’s family. Gemini, as the liaison between theweresand witches, shakes his head tersely. He doesn’t lead the witches, but with the majority of them on foreign land and their head witches absent, they heed his request. The light from their amulets fade, sparkling just enough as a warning to the vampires.
Hank doesn’t notice, keeping his attention on Celia. “Try again, Celia,” he pleads. “It’s only been an hour.”
Aric narrows his eyes, his hold on Celia turning more shielding. “An hour too long. This is too much for her in her condition,” he warns.
“She is all we have,” Hank hisses. “Our master needs her.”
Celia squeezes Aric’s hand when he releases a warning growl. “Aric, I’m not hurt, nor am I in pain. Please, they just want Misha back.”
“No, but you’re exhausted from trying to reach him, love,” Aric tells her. “You need your strength.”
She meets Aric square in the face. “What I need is Misha alive. I can’t abandon him if there’s a chance we can help him. Not after all he’s done for me.”
Aric bows his head. Like him, hate him, or not, Misha has helped and protected Celia. He stayed true to Celia when even Aric’s own kind forbade their relationship and forced Aric to leave her. His focus wanders to me. “Do you think you can form a magical circle around Celia?”
This is a good time to remind Aric that I’m not a witch. Not in the true sense. But even though I was forced to attend witch school and assigned books I never did read, I did learn a thing or two. “I can, but those things are used to protect the one on the inside.”