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

blurted.
    The male harpy chuckled, surprising me. “I see where Eve got her sass. My name is Marco.”
    The two harpies banked at the same time as we dropped from the sky, right into Doran’s courtyard. Pamela was crouched over Liam’s body. Everything in me tensed, even though Tracking Liam I knew he was still alive. But barely.
    I jumped from Eve’s back before she had fully landed and ran to Liam’s side. The werewolves had retreated and were pacing around, whining. Beauty stood to one side, buck naked and leaning against Faris.
    “Faris, get them all out of here. NOW,” I said, doing my best to not let my voice break.
    “They wouldn’t go—how would you like me to deal with them?”
    “Make them.” I curled my hands into the thick fur around Liam’s neck, trusting Faris would do as I asked. “Pamela, how bad is it?”
    She lifted her eyes to mine for a split second before looking back at Liam, her hands cupping his muzzle. “Bad. It’s very bad. I can heal all the wounds except the one on his chest.”
    The sound of footsteps running told me people were finally listening and going to safety. Which was good because I suspected it wouldn’t be long before what was left of the ogres was over run and we’d be dealing with some pissed off demons.
    Sooner than you think. They are on their way to end us now.
    “Blaz, can you stall them?”
    On my way.
    A whoosh of wings and the dragon let out a roar that shattered the air, pierced my ears, and made my heart pound. His battle cry stirred my own bloodlust. Seconds later, the sound of flames roaring across the open field reached us. A fire line would buy us a little time.
    “Doran?”
    “Nothing I can do, at least, not on my own. The blade was cursed. I’d have to have more of your blood and you have given too much as it is.” He crouched beside me and held out a copper knife with a serrated edge, fresh blood on it. Liam’s blood.
    I leaned forward, Tracking Liam. Yeah, he was right there, but by Tracking him I could get a better idea of how bad it really was.
    His heart beat at a strange cadence, and his soul was slipping. I could push some of my strength into him. We’d done it before, when we were in Europe, but it had mostly been me drawing from him. But what if I could give him some of my Immunity, enough to fight off this poison, or the fucking curse or whatever it was he was dealing with?
    “Rylee, what are you doing?” Doran whispered as I drew on my own strength and gave it over to Liam. The energy flowed between us, the bond we’d made stronger than death, and his heart started to beat faster, became steadier.
    There was a moment where I thought someone was trying to pull me off, to stop me, but nothing could come between us. Liam didn’t shift under my hands, but his threads were stronger.
    I pulled back, my vision doubling as hands caught me.
    “You keep passing out like this and I’m going to think you like the head rush,” Doran grumbled.
    “He’ll make it.”
    “What the hell did you do? You aren’t a healer, Rylee.” Doran didn’t take his arms from around me and I didn’t care. I could barely keep my eyes open.
    “I’ll explain later. Blaz, take Liam to London. Please.”
    Tracker, you gave him a lot of energy. Too much.
    “Please, don’t argue with me, I have a fucking headache.” Which was the truth, my head was pounding, the sound of my own heartbeat felt like a bongo drum inside my skull.
    You are coming with me.
    “I’ll go through the veil.”
    Fine.
    Damn, that sounded suspiciously like a woman would say ‘fine’. Like ‘fuck, I’m not excited about this, but I’m doing it anyway’.
    Blaz winged over us, and scooped up Liam. He’ll survive the flight?
    “Yes. But he’ll be out of it, probably the whole way,” I said, feeling Doran’s eyes on me. No one knew the bonding that had taken place between Liam and me. Though I suspected Doran was on to us.
    Get through the veil, Tracker. Blaz called back to me