Wounded: Book 8 (A Rylee Adamson Novel) by Shannon Mayer Page B

to the wall, like a fly to sticky paper. “I am right now. Now stay out of the way.”
    Rylee stared at me, the three colors in her eyes swirling. “You okay?”
    I didn’t really know how to answer without getting into the whole darkness thing, so I just nodded. “I’m fine. He’s just in the way.”
    I took her hands again and slowed my breathing. Healing took all four elements and then something from myself as the healer, a piece of my essence. Not a lot, but it was the binding between the elements to make the healing take place. I plunged in, tying the elements to Rylee’s form and threading them through her essence. I fought not to let go when she cried out as the skin sloughed off and broke away, as her tendons relaxed and the muscles rebuilt.
    A minute passed and I’d done all I could. I looked down at her hands. They were pink in patches, like she’d had a bad sunburn, but the worst of the damage had been dealt with and her fingers were no longer charred sausages, nor were her arms black to the elbow.
    Then she tried to flex her hands.
    Her fingers barely moved, creaking with the effort. She grimaced and tried again. More movement, but it was slow and obviously painful. Rylee turned her hands back and forth several times, flexing only at the wrist. “It’ll just take some work. Bad injuries are like that.”
    I stood and brushed hay off my pants and shirt, feeling tears well up. “I’m sorry I’m not as good as Milly.”
    “That’s not what I meant,” she said, but I was already walking away as fast as I could go without running. I was never good enough, not to help Rylee, not to help anyone. But I would make sure one day that I proved I was better than Milly.
    That I would be a witch to be reckoned with.
    I put my fist to my mouth, opened the barn door and left everyone behind.

    What the hell had that been about? Teenage angst, no doubt; I remembered well enough to know nothing I said would make it better. My hands throbbed and ached like they’d been smashed repeatedly by an overzealous carpenter. At least the pain wasn’t consuming me and every thought I had.
    Zane let out a whimper and Charlie handed him back to me.
    “Whats yous going to do, Rylee girl?”
    I rocked Zane in my arms, feeling more than a little awkward. I hadn’t been around a lot of babies, never mind one this small. “He needs to be somewhere safe while we deal with the demons. He can’t come with us; he’ll be too much of a temptation for Orion and his packs.”
    Lifting my eyes to Charlie and then Erik, I saw the look on both their faces; they were holding back. “What? What aren’t you telling me?”
    “There aren’t any safe places, not anymore.” Erik lowered himself to sit beside me in the hay. “But you’re right; you can’t take a baby into battle.”
    Alex crept forward and I put a hand out to him. Pamela flipping him ass over tail and sticking him to the wall had thrown both of us for a loop. It wasn’t like her. I made a mental note to sit her down and have a talk. A good, long chat about dealing with anger and fear. But first thing I had to do was get Zane to safety.
    “You’re telling me there isn’t a place anywhere in this whole freaking world that could provide even a temporary safe haven?” I couldn’t believe that was the case.
    Charlie cleared his throat. “Perhaps I can be of helps with thats.”
    Erik picked up a long piece of hay and stuck it between his teeth. “It would put you in danger. You willing to do that for a child that is not one of yours?”
    With a deep puffing of his chest, Charlie crossed his arms. “Yous don’t know me.”
    “What are you two talking about?”
    The two men looked at one another then to me. Erik spoke first. “Brownies don’t live on this plane; they live on the first level of the veil for the most part. And while it isn’t perfect, it would provide something of a temporary haven that you are looking for.”
    “Charlie, you can take the baby with