Page 69 of Haunted By the Shadow of Death

Had I ever really known him? I didn’t recognize this person at all. Even his choice of words, like I was a rabid dog.

“Fine, you hate me. I’m a threat. I get it. But how do you do this to Kicks? He’s done nothing. He’s one of you. He’s a shifter.”

“A shifter who made bad choices,” Duncan said. “He declared his loyalties, and they weren’t with us.”

“Then kill me. Then there’s no conflict and you can let him go,” I said. I was as good as dead anyway. But if I could save Kicks somehow…

“It’s too late. He won’t be manageable once you’re dead,” Groza said. She signaled to her goons. “Throw him in the hole.”

I barely kept myself from heaving. The hole had been freshly dug by Kicks and Dirkin on the pretense of being a new well. Dirkin had made Kicks dig his own grave. I turned, meeting the old man’s eyes. He’d be the first I’d kill.

They grabbed Kicks’ arm, spinning his body and dragging him over the compacted dirt, leaving a trail of his blood behind. He didn’t move, didn’t even moan. I stared at him, watching for the rising of his chest. Searching for a sign of life. They got him to the edge of the ditch and then kicked him in.

A scream pierced the air, but it was mine. Kicks’ only sound had been a thump when he hit the bottom.

Groza turned to me. “First I’m going to let you watch your mate die. And then, once he’s dead, I’m going to burn you alive in the ditch.”

Why not kill me now? Why bother with this? Was there a reason, or did she simply relish the torture? Either could be true, and I wouldn’t put the question to her.

“Throw her in. Try not to break her neck as you do, but if it happens, that’s all right too,” she said.

“No! She has to be burned,” Dirkin yelled. “It’s the only way to get rid of the demons.”

They steered me closer to the hole. I would’ve jumped in to get Kicks. That was when I realized…I loved Kicks. There was no doubt in my mind. It was as clear as a switch being flipped.

They pushed me closer, and I held on to one of the poles attached to my neck, hoping to make it to the bottom in one piece. I fell in, and the nooses tightened for a moment, stealing all my air. Then they were released, pulled off and upward.

The well had been dug so deep it was darker down here. I knelt by Kicks’ body, tears streaming down my face. I felt his head, trying to see if he’d taken a hit there. I didn’t feel anything, but maybe it was too soon?

I grabbed his wrist, feeling for his pulse. It was there but thready. The first time I learned of shifters was when Buddie had been shot. He hadn’t healed until he shifted. Was this the same? Did Kicks need to shift?

I needed him to wake, to ask how to help him. I needed him to live. He wasn’t allowed to die. He didn’t even know I loved him. All I’d done was push him away, and now he was dying and I wasn’t sure if there was anything I could do.

I put my arm under his head, cradling him, kissing his cheek and then his forehead.

“Kicks, please, please don’t leave me. Please.” When he didn’t answer, I looked upward. “Death! Please, I know you can hear me. Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll do whatever you want.”

I waited, hoping she’d finally show, but nothing happened. I called her again, and then again. I cradled Kicks’ body as close as I could, trying to give him warmth from my own.

“Death, please, please come.”

Nothing. No answer as I lay there, feeling his blood seeping onto me.

“Kicks?” I laid my hand on his cheek. “Kicks? I need you to talk to me. You have to hang on. I’m going to get us out of here.”

His breathing quickened slightly, and I felt him stirring.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice weak and soft.

I shifted, moving to get into action. He was back with me. We’d figure this out. “What do I do? Should I pull the arrows out?”

“Yes. Out.”

I knelt by his side, feeling around for each protrusion in the dark as best I could. As soon as I laid hands on the first one, I tried to feel for the angle it went in, and then tried to pull it straight out. He grunted softly as more blood gushed out behind it.

“Should I keep going?” If I did, would he bleed out? He’d bleed out if I did nothing, too.

“Yes.”

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