Highland Son (Highland Sorcery: A New Dawn) by Clover Autrey Page B
Authors: Clover Autrey
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power.
“Ut-ut.” Sheppard’s gaze flicked to Alexander’s hands, apparently seeing the misty waver distorting the air around him. Somehow Sheppard knew the telltale signs of magic being unleashed. “Think you can release your evil taint faster than Hank can exhaust a round in your friend’s here head?”
“Go,” Ethan shouted, struggling against the men holding him. “Don’t listen to him and go. Get out of here.”
As fast as a coiled snake, Sheppard pulled his blade and slammed it into Ethan’s thigh.
Alexander’s “no!” rolled over Ethan’s cry as his friend sank to his knees where the men held him up by his arms and Hank repositioned his gun’s muzzle against Ethan’s temple.
“Pull your magic back or he dies right here right now,” Sheppard ordered.
Chest heaving, Alexander let his magic recede back into his core. Features gray with pain, Ethan looked up at him and shook his head.
Alexander swallowed. “I can’t.”
“That’s right.” Sheppard yanked his knife out of Ethan’s leg and the young man cried out again, wobbling in the men’s grasp.
“Stop it!” Alexander cried. “I’ve done what you want.”
“Hold your hands out front.” Sheppard canted his head and the guy covering an unconscious Dez stepped over him with a length of rope that he quickly bound Alexander’s wrists together with. He patted him down, talking his empty pistol and pulling out the length of electrical wire he had coiled in his pocket. He gave Alexander a wary look.
Satisfied Alexander was secure, the guy reached in his pocket and pulled out a syringe.
Alexander’s eyes widened. “Wh-what’s that?” He inched back, the tall grass sweeping at the backs of his legs.
“Insurance.” Sheppard smiled. He had all the winning cards in his hands. “Don’t worry, it won’t kill you. It’s just a sedative. Mild, but fast acting. You creatures aren’t too keen on using your magic when you can’t think straight. That’s dangerous for you, right?”
Alexander didn’t answer. His heart pounded hard. Ethan’s eyes were huge. Furious. He shook his head, whispering, “No, don’t. Alexander…” Blood trickled down his leg.
The guy grabbed Alexander’s bound hands and shoved his sleeve up. The tiny prick was followed by a hot white burn moving through his arm.
“Take him back,” Sheppard ordered, calm as a crocodile waiting just beneath the river’s surface.
The guard pulled Alexander back to the backstop, lifted his arms high, and used the rest of the rope to secure him to the chain links. And he was letting him do it. But he couldn’t do otherwise, not with Dez down and defenseless, and that muzzle against Ethan’s head.
The metal of the backstop felt sticky. Turning his head to the side, he realized what he’d thought was rust was in actuality dried blood. Lots of it. He wasn’t the first person that had been brought here.
His kind. An abomination. Jewel…the fear in her eyes. Did she know about this? What Sheppard and Hank had been doing to any magical wielders they came upon?
The man trudged back across the field to the others, leaving Alexander bound to the fence alone and vulnerable.
His vision went in and out, his focus hazy. He felt weird, his stomach started cramping. The sedative. What were they going to do now? Shoot him like a firing squad? His legs suddenly went out from under him, the tranquilizer messing with his strength, leaving him hanging by his wrists. On instinct, he clawed for his magic. It was a slippery flowing stream he couldn’t grab a hold of.
“Do the others know what you are doing?” he shouted. Suddenly it was very important that he know. Did Jewel take part in this? He had to know, dreading the answer. She couldn’t. He wouldn’t believe that of her. If he was going to die, fine, but he had to know he could believe in her.
Sheppard’s dry chuckle reached him. “Just these few. The others don’t have the stomach to do what needs to be done to
“Ut-ut.” Sheppard’s gaze flicked to Alexander’s hands, apparently seeing the misty waver distorting the air around him. Somehow Sheppard knew the telltale signs of magic being unleashed. “Think you can release your evil taint faster than Hank can exhaust a round in your friend’s here head?”
“Go,” Ethan shouted, struggling against the men holding him. “Don’t listen to him and go. Get out of here.”
As fast as a coiled snake, Sheppard pulled his blade and slammed it into Ethan’s thigh.
Alexander’s “no!” rolled over Ethan’s cry as his friend sank to his knees where the men held him up by his arms and Hank repositioned his gun’s muzzle against Ethan’s temple.
“Pull your magic back or he dies right here right now,” Sheppard ordered.
Chest heaving, Alexander let his magic recede back into his core. Features gray with pain, Ethan looked up at him and shook his head.
Alexander swallowed. “I can’t.”
“That’s right.” Sheppard yanked his knife out of Ethan’s leg and the young man cried out again, wobbling in the men’s grasp.
“Stop it!” Alexander cried. “I’ve done what you want.”
“Hold your hands out front.” Sheppard canted his head and the guy covering an unconscious Dez stepped over him with a length of rope that he quickly bound Alexander’s wrists together with. He patted him down, talking his empty pistol and pulling out the length of electrical wire he had coiled in his pocket. He gave Alexander a wary look.
Satisfied Alexander was secure, the guy reached in his pocket and pulled out a syringe.
Alexander’s eyes widened. “Wh-what’s that?” He inched back, the tall grass sweeping at the backs of his legs.
“Insurance.” Sheppard smiled. He had all the winning cards in his hands. “Don’t worry, it won’t kill you. It’s just a sedative. Mild, but fast acting. You creatures aren’t too keen on using your magic when you can’t think straight. That’s dangerous for you, right?”
Alexander didn’t answer. His heart pounded hard. Ethan’s eyes were huge. Furious. He shook his head, whispering, “No, don’t. Alexander…” Blood trickled down his leg.
The guy grabbed Alexander’s bound hands and shoved his sleeve up. The tiny prick was followed by a hot white burn moving through his arm.
“Take him back,” Sheppard ordered, calm as a crocodile waiting just beneath the river’s surface.
The guard pulled Alexander back to the backstop, lifted his arms high, and used the rest of the rope to secure him to the chain links. And he was letting him do it. But he couldn’t do otherwise, not with Dez down and defenseless, and that muzzle against Ethan’s head.
The metal of the backstop felt sticky. Turning his head to the side, he realized what he’d thought was rust was in actuality dried blood. Lots of it. He wasn’t the first person that had been brought here.
His kind. An abomination. Jewel…the fear in her eyes. Did she know about this? What Sheppard and Hank had been doing to any magical wielders they came upon?
The man trudged back across the field to the others, leaving Alexander bound to the fence alone and vulnerable.
His vision went in and out, his focus hazy. He felt weird, his stomach started cramping. The sedative. What were they going to do now? Shoot him like a firing squad? His legs suddenly went out from under him, the tranquilizer messing with his strength, leaving him hanging by his wrists. On instinct, he clawed for his magic. It was a slippery flowing stream he couldn’t grab a hold of.
“Do the others know what you are doing?” he shouted. Suddenly it was very important that he know. Did Jewel take part in this? He had to know, dreading the answer. She couldn’t. He wouldn’t believe that of her. If he was going to die, fine, but he had to know he could believe in her.
Sheppard’s dry chuckle reached him. “Just these few. The others don’t have the stomach to do what needs to be done to
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