Blind Salvage: A Rylee Adamson Novel(61)

He paced the barnyard, then paused, lifted his head to the air, and took a deep breath. The scents were jumbled. Alex and Rylee came through loud and clear, a whisper of Eve, Calliope and then another scent. One he recognized all too well.
Faris, the motherfucker; he’d been here.
There would be no respite this time; he’d seen it in Rylee’s eyes. It was one thing to hurt her, one thing to take a child she didn’t know, but to hurt one of her own?
Liam had a feeling that Faris was about to meet a side of Rylee he’d not yet encountered. A side that Liam had seen glimmers of over the years, but that she’d never fully unleashed.
The squeak of tires on the hard packed snow brought his head up. Terese pulled into the farmyard in a small red truck. He waved at her and she ran toward him.
“Who is it, who’s hurt?”
He didn’t answer, just led her to the barn. Gods, let her have made it in time.

Terese stepped into the barn followed by Liam. A fierce look settled on his face, reminding me of his Agent days when he thought he’d caught me in a lie. There was only one thing I could think of that would leave him looking like he was ready to interrogate someone at the end of a hot poker.
He’d figured out who’d done this, or at least, he thought he did. I didn’t ask him, though; right now, there were more pressing matters. I’d kill who I needed to kill soon enough.
“Terese.” I pointed at Eve.
The witch stopped. “Are you serious? You called me out in the dead of night to help a Harpy?”
I fought not to reach over and smack her for her assumption Eve wasn’t worthy of healing. Pissing Terese off wouldn’t help anyone. “They took Pamela, the young witch I told you about. We need to help Eve and then we can figure out who has Pam.”
That seemed to get through to her. “They took … .” Her eyes widened and she dropped to her knees next to Calliope. Startled, she stared at the filly for a full ten seconds.
“Terese, we are running out of time.” Eve was slipping again, and I didn’t want to take anymore time than we had to.
“Right.” She leaned forward and put her hands on Eve, words breathed out past her lips as she wound the spell over Eve’s body.
The Harpy let out a low, pain-filled moan, her body jerking as it knit back together.
“Hang on, Eve, I know it’s bad. But it’ll ease,” I said, but I kept my hands to myself. No need to have my Immunity interfere with the healing.
Eve shifted, clacked her beak, and Alex started to jump up and down. “Evie!”
Evie, indeed. Her threads were running strong, if fatigued. She rolled to her feet, and I pointed at Calliope.
“Watch out, your savior is rather tiny.”
Eve ducked her head down. “Little foal, you brought me back. I am forever in your debt.”
Calliope bobbed her head once. But stayed where she was.
Terese bent to her. “Since I’m already here.” She laid her hands on the foal, and the broken leg knit in a matter of seconds.
The filly scrambled to her feet, startling us all as she reared back, front legs flashing in the air. I Tracked her, felt the joy running through her.
Two Salvages now, one for Calliope and one for Eve. One more to go. One that I couldn’t feel.
A fucking blind salvage. Why, oh why did Doran have to be right about this?
Terese stood, dark circles under her eyes. “I hope you have no more injuries because I am done. I do not have the power you are used to seeing in Milly. Most witches are lucky to perform one spell a day, never mind curatives of this level.” She waved her hand at Eve. The Harpy bowed her head. “Thank you, Terese. I am, it seems, in your debt as well.”
Calliope stomped her foot into the straw, then flicked her head to the doorway. Standing there was her father, the leader of the Tamoskin Crush. The filly ran to her father, butting her head against his shoulder.
Tracker, you have brought her home. You have our undying loyalty.
At that moment, I didn’t give a shit about his loyalty. “Where were you when Eve was attacked?” I snarled, pissed off that they would just allow this to happen, to just stand back and watch Eve get gutted.
They came on suddenly, and we ran them off, but it was too late. We grieved the Harpy’s loss. How is it she is yet alive? He tipped his head to one side, then flicked his nose toward Eve.
“Your daughter saved her.”
Calliope saved … the Evening Star?
I nodded, the anger flowing out of me. “Yeah. She’s going to be something when she grows up. They both are.”
He bobbed his head once. A new generation, a new understanding. So it begins; Tracker, you are the catalyst we have waited for.
With no more words, he backed away from the door. Calliope reared up, tossing her head, her thin-spiked mane waving, and struck her front feet into the air.