Wolf Bound Read online

  Her gaze went back to his body. He had a hole in his chest, but his heart was still beating. He was still breathing. She hadn’t killed him. He wasn’t dead. So there was no way she could see his spirit or ghost or whatever the hell people like her called them. The Sixth Sense wouldn’t have been such a huge movie if Haley Joel Osmont had said, ‘I see the images of still-living-but-not-attached-to-their-bodies-people.’ No. ‘I see dead people’ was much more dramatic. And eerie. And correct. Mediums and banshees saw dead people. They didn’t see the spirits of those who were still alive.

  So, ipso facto, she was either going completely insane, or Adam was dead.

  She shouldn’t be so surprised by the insanity. It ran in her family. It had been hovering on the periphery of her mind for years. This was obviously just the first encroaching fingernails-down-the-blackboard announcement of it descending. The dream memory of her aunt was a reminder of what was in store for her. The only choice she had was to ignore it and press on and hope she could keep it at bay with sheer stubborn will.

  Why her insanity had to take on the form of Adam was beyond her. It was cruel. Simply cruel. But then, why should she expect insanity to be kind? It had been a horrifying nightmare for her once beautiful and intelligent aunt. She closed her eyes against the image of Lilyanna as she’d last seen her, lips a mass of sores, scars on her arms and face, fresh wounds from where she’d scratched deeply at the insects only she could see crawling under her skin, hair shaved off so she couldn’t pull it out, more scabs all over her skull. Horrifying. Simply horrifying.

  ‘Come on. That was funny. Or if not funny, annoying. I know you hate the Queen of Hearts.’

  She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to see the hallucination of him move towards the desk. She shot up out of the chair—back creaking in protest—and walked to where Adam’s body lay.

  The hallucination-Adam stopped in his tracks, frowning in consternation at her. ‘That nightmare looked pretty nasty. You were crying and shaking. Want to tell me about it? I might be able to help.’

  Her breath puffed out of her, fast, hard, painful in her Nullarbor-dry throat. She scrubbed at her face, forcing herself to slow her breathing before she hyperventilated. Of course, her subconscious would want to go over the nightmare. But she was in no mood to parse over the useless feelings the memories brought forward. There was nothing she could do now to change any of it, so why think about it? Especially that kiss and what happened after. Only a masochist or insane person getting off on their own misery would do that, and she certainly was no masochist. And she had no wish to let insanity dig its teeth in any further.

  Busy. She just had to keep busy. That was all.

  She picked up Adam’s hand, her fingers finding the pulse point on his wrist. His heartbeat was strong, despite the hole in his chest. It was so strange, but it had to be a good sign, surely? She pulled the sheet away from his chest. The bandages covering the wound were going black. The wound was still seeping. She’d have to change them again. The only problem was, hallucination-Adam was standing right in front of the cupboards where all the supplies were kept. Which meant if she wanted to get to them, she’d have to walk through him. Walking around him wasn’t an option—that would be accepting he was real. Acknowledge his presence. She swallowed. She could do this. She hated walking through the spirits she saw—they always made her feel so cold and shuddery—but he wasn’t really there, so she wouldn’t feel anything. Right?

  Her fingers curled on the edges of the sheet. She had felt something. He’d reached out and touched her the night it had happened. Grabbed her wrist. Touched her arm. And while it hadn’t felt like when his actual fingers touched her, it had still been solid enough to let her know he was there.

  But he wasn’t. She was imagining him. Because his body was here. In front of her. Lying unconscious on this bed. Not dead.

  Just walk through him, Shelley. Prove to yourself he’s just some stupid figment of your imagination and get over it.

  Right. Sounded like a good idea. So, turn around and move. Now. Do it.

  The door opened behind her and she almost sagged onto the bed in relief.

  ‘Hey Shels.’ Bron walked in, River close behind.

  ‘How’s Adam?’

  She looked down at the body in front of her. ‘His wound is seeping. I was just going to get some new bandages.’

  ‘I’ll get them for you,’ River said, heading straight to the cupboards. He moved so quickly, the Adam hallucination wasn’t able to completely get out of the way and River’s hand went through him.

  ‘Hey!’ Adam said, rubbing at his side. She frowned. How had he felt that? River didn’t give any sign that he’d heard or felt anything. Which he wouldn’t if the image of Adam was a spirit. Or a figment of her imagination.

  She turned back to the body on the bed and busied herself stripping off the old bandages.

  ‘That doesn’t look any better,’ Bron said from beside her. ‘I was hoping the last healing might have changed something.’

  Shelley gave her friend a one-armed hug. ‘You’re doing your best. I think the problem here is a lack of understanding about Warlock Lightning and its impact on the Were body.’

  ‘I know. You’re right. It doesn’t make it any less frustrating.’ Bron gingerly touched the edges of the wound. ‘I don’t understand how I could heal the entire pack last year at Yule when my power fully kicked in and yet I can’t heal this. It doesn’t make sense.’

  Shelley rubbed her back. ‘It might if we knew more.’

  ‘What are you thinking, Shelley?’ River handed her the saline irrigator and new bandages.

  She began cleaning the wound. ‘I think maybe it’s time I headed back to Melbourne and started researching the diaries more thoroughly for clues as to what’s going on here.’

  ‘You want to find out more about banshees?’

  ‘No.’ Her fingers clenched on the pad of bandages she was using to mop up the black gunk seeping out of the edges of the wound. The only research she wanted to do about her own powers was on finding more ways to shield. The things she’d learned so far about shielding had been incredibly useful—it had saved her and the others from Cain that night.

  ‘But surely that’s an important part of all this?’

  ‘Understanding what I am isn’t as important as finding out more about what could be causing Adam to stay like this, despite all the healing energy you’ve poured into him. This can’t be the first time this has happened. And given the Pack Witches liked to record everything, there has to be some mention of it somewhere. We just need to find it.’

  ‘Patrick is already researching for us. He’s using the notes you put together and is going through the other chests you suggested he go through. He’s follow your instructions to a T.’

  ‘I know. But you know Patrick can only get so far.’ The diaries were spelled so that many passages looked like gobbledygook unless you had witch or warlock blood. They were full of hidden information that could only be pulled forth by those with the power of the covens running through their veins. ‘It took us a while to get a handle on how to use them, and that was only with Cordy’s help.’ She looked over at Cordy, still in the magically induced coma. ‘Besides, I was always the one who managed to get the diaries to spill their secrets the best.’ She had no idea why. Possibly because she’d spent more time with them, more desperate to find out information about her powers so she could block them, learn to shield more effectively. She’d also found out a lot about Skye and Bron’s powers to help them, her friends being uppermost in her mind a great deal of the time. ‘Besides, you and Skye are needed here. I’m more a shag on a rock. It makes sense for me to go back.’

  ‘What about the other McClune witches? They might be able to help.’

  ‘They probably would if we asked them, but given what’s going on, I don’t really want to, do you?’ She looked at Bron, whose eyes were clouded with worry and sadness.

  Bron shook her head, whisp
ered, ‘No. I don’t. They’re barely handling keeping their coven and pack together without Cordy’s abilities to steady them. What about Eloise? I know she’s still recovering, but she’s itching to get into the diaries and will follow your instructions too.’

  ‘I know. I spoke to her before she and Iain left last week. But Eloise really needs to concentrate on finding out about what a Nexus is. We know it’s important in the coming battle but not why. I need to get down there to help her with that. I need to teach her how to use the diaries.’

  ‘She’s under strict instructions not to start until she’s better, so you have time.’

  ‘Do I?’ Shelley firmed her lips as she squirted saline into the wound. Black gunk ran out of the edges and down the side of his chest. Bron grabbed a bandage and helped mop up the foul stuff. ‘I don’t think I do. There’s just so much to read through and as I’ve just said, the diaries can be tricky for a novice to use.’

  ‘I could help.’

  She looked up questioningly at River as he handed her a clean pad and took the one she was using and put it in the toxic waste container he’d brought over.

  ‘I have warlock blood in me from my father. If the books are blood-spelled to open for those with magical powers or magical blood in their veins, they might work for me.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘He’s probably one of the only Were who could read them properly,’ Bron added.

  ‘Adam could too.’

  ‘Could he?’ Bron said, frowning. ‘That’s strange. I wonder why that is?’

  ‘Probably because I’m a magical being,’ Adam said from behind her.

  She had to stop her lips from twitching in amusement at his tone. ‘Maybe there’s more to the diaries than we know,’ she suggested.

  ‘Or maybe there’s more to Adam than we know,’ River said. ‘He is different from the rest of us.’

  ‘You’re not wrong,’ Shelley said, unable to stop herself from looking at the hallucination over her shoulder. He smiled at her. Heat flooded through her. She cleared her throat, focusing back on what she was doing.

  ‘Perhaps we should look through the genealogies to find more like River,’ Bron suggested, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil inside Shelley. ‘He can’t be the only Were from matches between Were and witch or warlock. I mean, Bridgette Colliere herself was mated to a Were. And we now know that River and Skye are both descended from Morghanna Cantrae, who mated to a half Were and had a son by him.’

  ‘It’s an interesting thought,’ Shelley said slowly, and then shook her head. ‘But we really don’t have the time and manpower to spend wading through all the genealogies right now, do we? And you really need River here to help you with the healings.’

  ‘We could have them brought up here,’ River said. ‘Then neither of us would have to go back to Melbourne at all and I could help you when I’m not busy with Bron and her healing.’

  Shelley wanted to shout ‘no’. She needed to leave. She was certain if she could get away away from Adam’s body it would help her to suppress the hallucinations of him. Being so close to his body, death riding so close to him, couldn’t be making the situation easier for her, especially because of this new banshee thing inside her responding to death like it did. It was no wonder she was slipping into the insanity that rode through her family like the horseman of death wielding a scythe. She refused to let that scythe swipe at her yet. Leaving here, not seeing Adam’s body, was key to that. She was sure.

  She swallowed hard. ‘I don’t want to take the chance that Morrigan might intercept them. The last thing we want is her getting her hands on them.’

  ‘I guess you’re right,’ Bron sighed.

  Shelley finished irrigating the wound with the saline and wiped the area around the wound clean. She began to ready the new bandages as Bron swabbed the edges of the wound with the antiseptic.

  ‘When will you leave?’

  ‘As soon as possible.’ Shelley turned her face so Bron couldn’t see anything she didn’t want her to see there. Bron was too good at reading her worries and fears. She and Skye knew about her family and their weakness, knew she worried about it. She didn’t want either of them knowing how much she worried or how urgent that worry had become ever since she’d melded with Skye’s power to save her friend. She cleared her throat and began to apply the new bandages. ‘Before Morrigan and Cain come at us again. We need to be stronger, to find out more about your powers, Eloise’s and Skye’s, and what’s happened to Adam. Especially what’s happened to Adam. As River said, there is something different about him, but I think that difference is essential to the wellbeing of the pack.’

  ‘I agree,’ River said, shifting his shoulders as if reacting to an itch. ‘There is something missing, something not quite right in the pack bond ever since this happened to Adam.’

  ‘That could just be Jason’s reaction to almost losing him,’ Bron said.

  ‘No. It’s more. You know it’s more.’

  She nodded and looked over at Shelley. ‘You’re both right. I feel it too. I was just playing devil’s advocate—which is usually your job.’ She frowned.

  Shelley pressed her lips together. ‘The lack of his presence is detrimental to all of us. I need to find a way of getting him back with us.’ Her fingers brushed over Adam’s warm skin to smooth the tape in place, lingering longer than necessary.

  ‘I didn’t know you liked touching me so much, Kitten. I’m sure when I’m back to full fitness we can explore this need in you.’

  She hissed and pulled her hand away.

  ‘You okay, Shelley?’ River was watching her curiously.

  ‘Fine. I just thought I felt a sudden surge of power from the wound.’

  ‘Really?’ Bron put her hands over the wound. After a moment she drew them back and looked at Shelley. ‘I can’t feel anything. What did it feel like?’

  ‘Static electricity maybe.’ More like a big jolt of electricity she felt every time she touched him or heard his warm, rumbling voice. ‘I must have imagined it. Or rubbed up against something that built a charge.’

  ‘You can rub up against me again any time, Kitten.’

  She clenched her fingers, willing away the tingle, the sound of Adam’s laughter-filled voice ringing in her ears as if he stood right behind her. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t. She couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t! She backed away from the bed, away from the body and the image that now stood next to Bron and River. ‘I need to get out of here. I think my brain is a little fried being around all these spirits. There’s more here than ever before. The fucking sticky-beaks.’

  ‘Oh, Shells,’ Bron said, reaching out to take her hands. ‘Is it really that bad?’

  Shelley could only nod, her throat clogged with stupid tears. Why the fuck was she feeling like she was going to cry? This had to be part of the insanity—a complete inability to control her emotions. She hated it. Hated it. ‘I read some new information about shields before I came up here. I need to read it again before I feel confident to implement it. If I can do this, it will help. I’m sure.’

  ‘Then go. Get your shields where you need them to be.’

  ‘Gareth is up giving Jason a report from Iain,’ River said. ‘He could drive you back down today if you want.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Adam said.

  She pointedly didn’t look at him. ‘I can drive myself.’

  ‘Like hell you will! I may not be able to be your Shadow at the moment, but that doesn’t mean you can go unprotected. Morrigan and Cain are still out there.’

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, she wanted to retort to his heavy-handed pronouncement. It was just like him to go all macho-Shadow bullshit on her about something like this. Her mind knew that. It was why it was creating those words to come out of his imaginary mouth.

  ‘I don’t think Jason will like that.’ Bron paused and then looked to her left where Adam was standing.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Shelley asked her.

  ‘Seeing if there’s something
on my shoulder. You keep looking slightly past me.’

  ‘I’m not. I’m just tired. My eyes are wandering.’

  ‘All the more reason you shouldn’t drive yourself,’ Adam said

  ‘Then I’ll call Gareth. You’re too tired to drive back to Melbourne.’ River pulled out his phone. ‘Besides, Bron is right. Jason won’t allow you to go by yourself anyway. Not with Morrigan and Cain out there. Probably not even if they weren’t.’

  ‘See!’ Adam said, pointing at River. ‘I’m not the only one saying it. Listen to him if you won’t listen to me.’

  ‘God! I hate how overprotective you all are. I was driving myself around just fine before you all came into my life.’

  ‘But we didn’t have an insane out-for-revenge witch hunting us then. Nor her equally insane student,’ Bron said reasonably.

  ‘All courtesy of the Were.’

  Bron gasped. ‘You don’t really think that, do you?’

  Shit! She was really slipping. She ran her hand through her hair, dislodging her ponytail. Raking her fingers hard against her skull, she pulled the band out. ‘No. I know it’s not their fault. Any more than it’s Skye’s fault I’m a banshee.’

  ‘You were always a banshee, Shelley. No power can turn you into what you’re not.’

  ‘I know. It’s just the influx of power allowed it to surge to the fore when it might have always stayed dormant.’ Fuck. She was saying too much. She jerked her hair back into the ponytail, pulling it tight so it almost hurt. She needed that little bit of pain to keep her grounded right now. ‘I’m sorry.’ She glanced at River. ‘You’re both as much a victim of all this as I am.’

  ‘You’re not a victim, Kitten.’

  ‘You’re not a victim, Shells. And neither are we.’ Bron was suddenly there in front of her, thankfully blocking out hallucination-Adam. He looked so distraught. So pained for her. She couldn’t bare it.

  Shelley forced herself to look directly into Bron’s eyes, not flinch away at the worry there. ‘Wrong choice of words. I just meant that none of us could help what’s happened. You and Skye have had just as many issues with these new powers as I have. Worse maybe. I need to stop being a baby about it.’ She rubbed her eyes.