Flamebound A Lone Star Witch No(39)

Close doesn’t count. I turn the words over in my mind, trying to make something of them. Something’s there, hovering around the edges of my brain. But every time I reach out to grab it, it flutters away. Close doesn’t count. I’ve heard that combination of words before. The more I repeat them, the more sure I grow. I know the rhythm, the—

Agony. Excruciating, omnipresent, eternal. My whole body, one long unending shriek.

Intellectually, in the small part of me that is still Xandra, I know that this is it. This is the death blow that slowly—oh so slowly—killed Councilor Alride. It happened to him—it isn’t really happening to me. And yet I can’t stop myself from clutching at my stomach.

I swear to the goddess I can feel the squish of my intestines between my fingers, smell the metallic earthiness of my blood, hear the sound of that same blood ping ping pinging into the metal trays set up directly below me.

At least that answers the question of where the blood went—as if I had any doubt.

Time passes—I don’t have a clue how long—and I feel myself growing weaker, more tired. The pain is still there, but it’s dull now. Background noise to the lethargy that is creeping over me a little bit more with each second that slips by.

I can hear voices again. Not the killer’s, not that evil, indistinguishable hiss, but real voices. Loud, urgent, desperate. I try to respond, but I’m too far under. The pain, the vision, the magic, has stripped everything else away but Viktor Alride’s last moments.

The wheezing starts, the gasping, and then he’s slipping away from me.

Slipping.

Slipping.

Gone.

Only silence remains.

“Xandra!” I hear Declan calling my name, feel his hands cup my face. It’s the first time I hear him, though I get the sense that he’s been trying to reach me for a while. Is his the voice I heard when I was under? Was he the one trying to reach me? Or was it something else—something much more sinister?

Either way, I’m me again, thank the goddess. Viktor Alride is long gone from this plane of existence.

“Damn it, Xandra!” Declan sounds panic-stricken and I realize this is the first time he’s ever really seen me like this. Though he’s been with me at other murder scenes, he’s always come after. He’s never seen the whole show before.

“Come back to me, baby. Open your eyes. Come on, Xan. Look at me.”

I struggle to do what he asks, but it’s so hard to get my body to cooperate. So hard to do anything but lie here in a stupor.

“Xandra!”

The urgency in his voice finally gets through to me and I force my eyes open. Only it’s not Declan’s concerned face I see hovering above me. It’s Lily’s tear-streaked one.

“You have to stop doing this to me!” she tells me in a shaky voice. “One of these days you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“Sorry.” I look from her to Declan. He hasn’t said a word, but if possible he looks even more freaked out than my best friend does.

I reach a hand up, cup his face. His fingers grab onto mine, squeezing so tightly that I feel the circulation cut off to my fingers. I don’t protest. How can I when I know I’ve put him through hell a dozen times in the last few weeks?

It takes a minute, but his grip finally loosens. Blowing out a long breath, he says, “We need to get you out of here.”

“Like right now,” Lily agrees.

I nod, even as I answer, “You know I can’t go.”

Declan’s mouth forms a grim line. “You will go.” His arm slips behind my back, presses me gently up into a sitting position.

“The compulsion doesn’t work that way. Until he’s been cut down and taken away, I won’t be able to leave this room.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t stay here. Do you know what will happen if they find us in a murdered Councilor’s office?”

It’s a mess of massive proportions. Even strung out and exhausted from the past few hours, I know that. The queen and king of Ipswitch’s daughter found at the bloodiest crime scene in ACW history? That would be bad enough. Now add in the fact that I have a grudge against them—as does my lover. I figure even if we aren’t found here, we’ll be on the short list of suspects that WI puts together.

That doesn’t matter, though. Logic and self-preservation never do. Not when my magic is involved.

But just because I’m screwed, that doesn’t mean Declan and Lily have to be. Pushing shakily to my feet, I tell them, “You should go. I can handle this on my own.”

They stare at me, looks of utter noncomprehension on their face.

“I mean it. You two need to get out of here while you still can. Those two guards out there aren’t going to go undiscovered for much longer.”