Night Season

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Floating … thoughts breaking up, shutting down, sliding off into gray…

I've got you.

Huh?

"… don't touch him!"

"Where's the ash, dammit?"

Something splashed.

"Cullen? Oh, God… No! You can't have him!" That was Cynna's voice. He knew it, clung to it, through the haze dimming his mind. "Let go, or I'll—"

"Don't touch him." He knew that voice, too… Tash. "He's got the poison on Mm."

"My coat's leather. It will protect me."

Was Cynna touching him? Why couldn't he feel it?

Another splash. Funny. He could hear things going on but couldn't see anything, couldn't feel…

A sigh. "You can't help him, girl. He's gone."

"No! He can't be." Cynna again, stubbornness personified.

She was right, though. He wasn't gone. He couldn't move, couldn't see or smell. He had no sense of his body whatsoever. None. He didn't understand what he was, but he wasn't gone.

Tash's voice, very gentle: "His heart isn't beating."

Well, hell. That couldn't be good.

Footsteps, then: "I've got the salt and ash, but you're wasting it, using it on him."

Cullen didn't recognize the speaker, but the man had used the Common Tongue. He noted that with a quiet corner of his mind. The spell was still working even though, technically, he was dead.

Didn't feel dead. Where were the tunnel and the white light?

"Give it to me. Ash neutralizes the poison, right? I need to get it cleaned off—"

"It is too late, Cynna Weaver."

Tash was probably right. He wasn't astral traveling. He'd done that twice, and this was nothing like it. His astral form still saw and touched… well, it wasn't the same kind of touching he did with his body, but there was a similar sense. Not this… nothingness.

"He'll heal it," Cynna was saying stubbornly. "He can heal it. I just have to get the poison cleaned off."

"Healing doesn't work on poison," Tash said in that gentle voice. "Only with wounds. That's why the obab are so feared. Nothing stops their poison. It's a… I don't have your word, but it paralyzes everything. The lungs stop working, the heart stops beating."

"Lupi heal from poison. He can heal this. Dammit, Cullen!" Fury whipped her voice. "You will heal, you hear me?"

Doing my best.

Tash again. "It doesn't usually act this quickly. He must have swallowed some."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." Who was—oh, Daniel Weaver. "You have to accept that he's gone."

"No, but anyone who tries tipping him into the river will be. Steve, keep them back."

"Got you covered," That was Steve's voice. "No one touches the wolf."

"All right," Tash said, weary. "We'll leave him for last."

"Hail, Mary, full of grace," Cynna whispered. "Our Lord is with you…"

Cynna was praying for him? Couldn't hurt. Probably wouldn't help, but it couldn't hurt.

Another splash. Cullen knew what the sound meant now—dead obab being dumped over the rail into the river. Maybe some of their own dead, too. Couldn't be environmentally sound, but he was more concerned with Tash's intention of doing the same with his body. He wasn't finished with it. He just had to figure out how to get connected to it again.

"… for us sinners now and at the hour of our—our—oh, dammit, Lady! Bring him back! You can't have him! If you're real, if you want me as your priestess or whatever, bring him back!"

At once he was all sensation. Pain. A giant had him in his grip and was trying to make lemonade from his chest. His ribs shuddered with the effort to draw in a breath. Alive hurt.

"He's breathing! Look, he's breathing!"

Scents flooded Cullen. His other vision came back, too, but dimly. He was about empty. He forced his eyes open… oh, yeah. He was still wolf, which meant his vision was black-and-white. And that was Cynna, her face shiny-wet, scrubbing at his fur.

Damn fool woman! She was going to get the poison on her. He drew another breath, found the moon's song, and forced the Change.

And oh, shit, but that really hurt. Took way too long, too. Changing always hurt. Changing away from earth and right after a cardiac arrest… well, he'd survived. "Stop," he whispered.

"Stop?" She blinked damp eyes. "Stop what?"

Crying, he nearly said. That would piss her off, knowing he'd seen her crying over him. His lips twitched at the thought.

"Why did you do that?" She was kneeling beside him, her coat gathered carefully around her to keep her from touching any of the slime the assassins had left behind. Good. She wasn't completely stupid. Fear and joy and anger vied for control of her face… such an expressive face. Those tattoos she hid behind had never concealed her from him. "Why did you Change? You can't afford to waste your power that way. You need it to heal."

"Got rid of the poison," Cullen pointed out in the whisper that was all he could manage. Whatever was on him—clothing, blood, poison—couldn't follow him through the Change.

"Oh. Right." Her breath shuddered out. "God, but you scared me."

Scared himself, too. His eyes were trying to close. Sleep sounded like a fantastic idea, but first… "Steve's here?"

"Yes. He held them off with his gun so they didn't… we thought you were dead. Your heart had stopped."

Tell me about it

. "Need to tell him something."

Hurt flashed across her face, but she motioned. A moment later Steve's face hovered over him. "Yeah, buddy?"

"They were after Cynna," he whispered. His eyes were trying to close. "Targeted hit."

"Don't worry," Steve said grimly. "I'm on it."

Okay. Good. He'd just rest his eyes for a bit…