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  I dragged him - more carefully this time - out into the field, away from the river. I was starting to shiver, and I still couldn't feel my hands.

  I scanned the mountains around us while I tried to wake him. He might have groaned, or it might have been thunder far off over the hills. I couldn't tell. He wasn't moving, that was for sure. I was going to have to climb at least partway up one of these mountains, find a cave for shelter, and get him inside. Then I needed to build a fire before we both froze, but that, at least, was no problem. Once we were safe and out of reach of the banshees, I could use magic for that.

  The rain wasn't scaring them away, either. If anything, there were more perched above, growing restless as I hauled away their supper. Their gray, ragged clothes blended well with the tree bark, concealing them if you didn't know how to look. A person passing by would never notice, not until it was too late.

  I untied my limp companion and grabbed him under the arms. Slowly, taking lots of time to rest, I dragged him to the base of the mountain and then started up. I knew there were caves up here - there were caves all over these mountains. After a moment, I spotted the one I wanted. This cave, in particular, wasn't located on an outcropping of cliff, which made it a hell of a lot easier to get him there. This slope was more gentle, and there were trees to grab if I needed a hand.

  By the time I got him to the mouth of the dark cave, a small one, I was exhausted. Forget the banshees - an owl could have come along and plucked the man off the mountain, and I wouldn't have been able to do a damned thing about it.

  Chapter Three

  The entrance to the cave was somewhat overgrown, so I spent a couple of minutes stomping down weeds and part of a briar patch, enough to drag my guest inside. It took longer than it should have because I had to stop and wipe the rain from my eyes several times. Apparently, the world was trying to drown me today.

  The cave was deeper than I first thought, maybe fifty feet deep, but I didn't know for sure because it disappeared into the darkness not far from the entrance. I'd check that out in a minute. Mostly I sniffed the air and listened for sounds that would let me know if some other creature had already claimed this particular shelter. There weren't any, so I rolled the guy inside and then went back out on my own. We were going to need a fire. A big one.

  My hands were shaking as I kicked through the weeds, looking for dead wood. I found a big log, long toppled, but I didn't think I had the strength to drag anything else today. I was already shaking with fatigue. I kicked off a few stubby branches, carried them back inside, and then broke off some of the briar bush limbs to lay on top of that.

  Drying my hands on my jeans as best I could, I called up the fire element. Fire was my buddy – it was the first element I'd learned to manipulate and the most important, in terms of usefulness. I formed a ball of energy in my hands, ignited it, and pushed with my fingers at the stacked wood. Gently, just enough to light a fire and not blow up the cave. It caught immediately, and I couldn't help but smile. Fire had saved my butt a few times.

  It lit the cave nicely, showing a fairly smooth floor, rocky but sturdy looking reddish walls, and no other inhabitants. I stripped off my jacket at the first wave of glorious heat and stuffed it under the stranger's head, trying to make him a little more comfortable. His chest rose and fell with regular rhythm, and after warming my fingers for a few beats, I could finally feel a decent pulse. So he was alive, just unconscious for some reason.

  I checked his head and felt a huge bump near the top of his skull. When I pressed gently, he twitched.

  I needed to try to wake him, but the darkness at my back - and what might be in it - made me uneasy.

  I gathered some energy and pulled up a small ball of fire, more of a pebble, and let it dance across my fingertips. Leaving the man, I turned around to explore more of the cave. Just in case.

  Beyond the fire, the walls closed in a little, but the ceiling rose to about ten feet. The ground was rockier back here, and strewn with the kind of natural debris that told me this had once been a den for some animal. Hopefully not a bear. If it was a bear, I hoped he was long gone. A few more feet, and the cave split into two tracks, both shrouded in inky blackness. I chose the left and stepped that way, but a jolt of something akin to electricity ran down my spine.

  An energy barrier. Weird.

  It felt a lot like the barrier we maintained around the forest to keep the creatures separate from the human town. I wondered what it was doing here. Lucy, Pearl and Miranda, my witchy cohorts, had no reason to be this far back in the forest, and I sure as hell didn't either. But this was definitely the work of a magical being. I stepped out, and then back in. Same result.

  This was bad. If there was another witch in the park for some reason, he - or she - would have given us notice. The fact that they didn't told me they were probably up to no good.

  This was what I'd been looking for all year - signs of a witch that might be working with Christa. The thought of her immediately sharpened my senses. I considered her more of a threat than anything in these woods.

  I heard a groan from the front of the cave and reached for the knife in my belt. It was small and I seldom needed it, but right now I was glad I had it, just in case that groan hadn't come from the unconscious guy.

  It had, though. When I looked his way I saw that he was moving a bit. I glanced toward the barrier, then gave up and went back to him. Maybe he would have some information for me, but I doubted it.

  I knelt down beside him just as his eyes fluttered open. They were almost as blue as his lips. At least he matched. "Hey," I said, snapping my fingers over his head. "You awake?"

  He blinked a few times, and he had worry lines above his nose, but he didn't answer. He didn't even focus, not quite. I tried again.

  "Hello? You in there?" I snapped again, then lowered my hand and waved it over his face.

  The worry lines deepened. He licked his lips. I waited for him to say something, but then his eyes fluttered closed. One arm slid off his chest to the dirt. He was out again.

  I thought about letting him sleep, but if he was close to awake I didn't want to give up.

  I really wished I had Miranda's healing powers sometimes. She'd know exactly which weeds to brew into a tea and how to make a paste for that bump. She was amazing. I, on the other hand, could barely figure out when to use Neosporin.

  But she wasn't here. It was just me. I reached across him and smacked his cheek. A sharp crack echoed through the cave.

  He gasped, and his eyes flew open again.

  "Wake up, dude," I said loudly.

  This time he focused, at least. Not on me, though. He rolled his head ever so slightly to the right and saw the fire. Stared at it.

  "Wake up," I said again. I was afraid he was going to go back to sleep. "I need to ask you a few questions."

  I waved my hand again. "Yoohoo. Over here."

  He grunted and swiveled his noggin back my way. This time he managed to meet my gaze.

  "Who are you?" I asked. Might as well start with the basics.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but then he coughed and winced. His throat sounded like it was full of gravel, which meant he probably needed some water.

  Even though he'd been literally drowning in it a few minutes ago.

  "Be right back," I said. I got up, went to the mouth of the cave and looked around for what I needed - a big-ass leaf. I found a tree full of them about twenty feet down the mountain. The banshees were evidently tired of the pounding rain and had disappeared, for the most part. Two stayed, watching me, but they were still down by the river. Maybe they were hoping that some other poor soul would get washed that way in the flooding.

  I grabbed a leaf, climbed back to the cave, and cupped it to fill it with water. Then I took it inside. Thankfully, the stranger was still awake. I used one hand to lift his head a little. "Drink this. It's water."

  Flimsy leaf, my unsteady shivering hands, and a guy who couldn't really hold up his own hea
d. In spite of all that, he managed to get most of it down. Then he whispered, "More?"

  I got him more. Who knew how long he'd been in the water?

  It took three trips before his voice sounded anything close to normal.

  I scooted him closer to the fire and then sat down beside him with my legs crossed. "Who are you?" I asked again.

  He took a breath, moaned, and put a hand to the lump on his head. He thought about that for s few minutes. "Tom Turner is my name," he said.

  "OK, are you a local?"

  "No..."

  "You sure?" He didn't sound sure.

  "I'm sure. I'm a -." He gasped and his hands fluttered toward his throat.

  "What?"

  "My cameras. I'm a reporter, where are my cameras?"

  I shook my head. "No idea, but most likely long gone. I fished you out of the river about a half hour ago."

  Now he looked ready to cry, but I wasn't about to go back to the river and stomp around looking for his equipment. "It'll be dark soon, but you can look for them tomorrow." I glanced at the knot on his head. "If the concussion doesn't get you first."

  "No," he grunted, struggling to sit up. I helped him. "I'm OK. Just a headache and a few sore muscles." He tried to prove it by sitting up, but that didn’t work. He laid back down.

  "How did you end up in the water?" I asked.

  "I was working on a story in Wilding. A human interest piece." He looked up. "Where am I now?"

  "About five miles out of town. You sure you were in Wilding?" If he had fallen in the river five miles away it would have drowned him before he got this far.

  He acted like thinking was hard for him right now. "Yeah. Well, no. I think I'd finished up my interviews and...." He looked up. "I went hiking in Red Rock, I think. I wanted to use a personal day before I headed back to the city."

  "What city?"

  "Richmond. In Virginia,"

  "I know where Richmond is, man. What was your story about?"

  He scratched his arms. I was pretty sure that was a good sign. Hadn’t I read somewhere that a person felt itchy when their skin started to warm up? "A Richmond native moving south. A man named Sam Salinger moved down here after his wife died. One of those 'where are they now' pieces, you know?"

  I nodded.

  "He was a big time lawyer in Richmond, so we decided to include him in the yearly round-up. No big deal, but it was nice to get out of town for a while. I can see why he moved here. I'd consider doing that myself, if anything ever happened in this town."

  I smiled at that. If he only knew.

  "So you went hiking....and ended up in the river?"

  He was quiet for a while, looking into the fire and rubbing his body to get warm. When he looked up again he said, "Yeah. What kind of birds do you have here?"

  I shrugged. "Uh, the same as everywhere else, I guess. Crows, robins, blue jays...?" I wasn't sure what he was asking, and I couldn't list every bird species in North Carolina if I tried.

  "I mean big birds. Birds of prey."

  I didn't know that, either. "Hawks and vultures, maybe? Are vultures hunting birds? And why are you asking?"

  "Because the last thing I remember was walking along the river bank, thinking that I needed to get back before it snowed. The clouds looked nasty. Anyway, something huge swooped down out of the sky and tried to sink its claws into me. That's how I ended up in the river."

  "Wow." A banshee. It had to be a banshee. I wasn't about to say that to him, though.

  "I know. It's wingspan had to be eight feet, but its feathers were pretty ragged. It's body was big, too. It could have carried me off."

  He shuddered and glanced toward the mouth of the cave. When he looked back, the fire reflecting in his eyes made him look demonic.

  "Did it get its claws in you? Do you have any cuts or scrapes?"

  He felt around his body, pressing against the legs of his jeans and his shirt. "I don't think so."

  "Good." So this was just a normal, run of the mill accident, caused by a banshee. "It was probably a vulture. Turkey vultures can get pretty big."

  "I thought they only ate dead things."

  "Oh...nah. They eat everything, I think. Anything they can catch."

  He didn't look like he believed me, but he didn't argue any further, so I got up and went toward the back of the cave again.

  "Where are you going?" He started to stand up, too, but I motioned for him to stay put.

  "Not far, just looking around back here. You're fine."

  He looked like he didn't believe that, either.

  I went back to where the cave split, feeling my way this time because I didn't want to get caught making fire out of nothing. If he saw that, he'd probably run screaming out of the cave and fall in the river again. I wasn't going to save him twice in one night.

  The right branch of the split cavern wasn't magically protected, I didn't think. I didn't feel anything to indicate that a barrier was in place. That meant that whatever - whoever - it was, was off to the left.

  I itched to follow it, see where it led me, but I didn't want to leave Mr. Soggypants alone here. If the way he acted was any indication, he'd give himself a heart attack. I peered that way, but the darkness was like a wall. I'd have to come back.

  I walked back to the fire. "Do you think you can walk?" I asked him.

  "I guess." He stared longingly at the fire.

  "Well, we can't just sit here forever. We need dry clothes and you need to get that head of yours checked out. It might be dangerous."

  "It's warm in here," he said.

  "It'll be warm at the hospital, too."

  "I think I'm too tired."

  I glared at him. "I carried you up a mountainside. You'll be fine."

  He didn't answer, just kept staring at the flames.

  "I have to go tonight. I can leave you here alone, but I don't think you'll -."

  He was on his feet halfway through my sentence. Well, that worked better than I thought.

  "I'd rather not," he said, "But I refuse to stay here alone."

  "Thatta boy." I patted him on the shoulder.

  Chapter Four

  The slog back to the house was a nightmare. Between the dark driving rain, the over-spilling creek banks, and Tom's idea to run from tree to tree, I thought we'd never get home. He swore he was hiding to stay out of the rain, but the way he kept looking at the sky, I was pretty sure he was worried about vultures.

  Finally, maybe a mile from home, I got tired of it. "You know they live in trees, right? You're hiding directly under their nests."

  He blanched at that and picked up the pace. Hallelujah.

  I was more concerned with other creatures that roamed the night. Red Rock, like most other national parks, had its share of vampires, werewolves, and other less-than-nice paranormals. Most of them knew me by sight and wouldn't bother me, but a few might push the envelope and risk the wrath of the other witches for a nice human meal. It was best to get us out of the forest as fast as possible.

  By the time I saw the lights of Lucy's little house, I was ready to drop. Tom, bless his heart, saw the signs of civilization and took off running before I could say anything.

  A few moments later I heard a yelp and a splash. He'd fallen into the creek that separated the house from the forest. Idiot.

  He was just climbing out when I got to him. "Are you all right?" I asked.

  He grumbled something, got to his feet, and walked across the back yard toward Lucy's. I hopped the creek and ran after him. "Hold up a minute. Let me make sure someone is home."

  He stopped. He didn't look happy about it, but he stopped.

  Oh, well. Better for him to be pissed off than to see something he shouldn't see, like Lucy working magic of some sort in the kitchen.

  I glanced back toward the woods across the creek and saw a familiar shadow. I smiled at it and raised a hand, thanking Myla for her silent escort. She knew the importance of keeping our secret here. She knew better than me, actually - th
e last thing she wanted was for someone to report werewolves at Red Rock. A lot of the townsfolk might scoff, but there would be a few out here with guns, doing some off-season hunting. Better safe than sorry.

  "What was that?" Tom asked. He had looked back, too. Now, he was backing toward the house. "Was that a wolf?"

  "No, probably just a stray dog."

  "You waved at it."

  "No I didn't. I was shooing a fly." What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right?

  He didn't believe me, but he didn't say anything else. He just stared at the woods again.

  I took the opportunity to jog ahead and look in the window. Lucy was sitting in her little hidden library, reading a book. "Come on, let's get you inside."

  I led him around front and knocked to give her some warning. "Don't you live here?" he asked.

  "I don't want to scare my grandmother." Man, he was starting to annoy me. Just shut up, already, dude.

  Lucy came to the door with a surprised smile, but it faded fast when she saw the dripping mess that was me, with a stranger in tow. "Indigo? What happened?"

  "I'll explain later. Is it OK if he comes inside?"

  "Of course." She opened the door wide and ushered us into the living room. "Hang on, I'll get some towels," she said, looking us up and down. We were making an ugly mess of her earth-toned carpet and furnishings. "And a rug."

  Tom was looking around, but now he turned back to me. "That's your grandma? She looks way too young."

  I wasn't about to tell him that she was nine hundred and seventy four years old. I crossed my arms. "Well, I'm not lying. Are all reporters this suspicious of the person who just saved their ass?"

  He didn't answer that, but at least he looked a little bit ashamed.

  Lucy came back and handed us towels while I made introductions. Tom shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

  She smiled. "I think my late husband might be your size. Let me see if some of his things are still in the closet."