Elle James - Possessing the Witch

He surfaced a hundred yards from the Washington Street Bridge. A cop stood at the rails shining a flashlight below, sending a sweeping arc back and forth across the water.

Gryph sucked in a breath and sank below the surface, letting the current carry him farther away. As he flowed downstream with the river, he wondered what it would feel like to drown, to let his lungs fill with water and the river claim him. His chest burned for oxygen and he kicked his feet to send him closer to the river’s edge. Dying in a river wasn’t in the cards for him tonight.

When he came up again, he had drifted far enough that the cop’s light couldn’t find him. Tired beyond endurance, he kicked and pulled with one arm to the side of the river, searching for a place he could crawl out. Several minutes later, he found a metal ladder pinned to the concrete walls of the river and dragged himself up the east embankment onto a walkway, where he collapsed, the night sky of the city fading to black.

Chapter 2

P ain...tired...can’t breathe.

Selene staggered to the door of her basement apartment below the vintage dress shop she owned that was situated among the quaint little buildings of old-town Chicago.

She could barely breathe and her shoulder ached unbearably, the pain draining her strength, sucking the life from her body.

Holding on to the handrail, she pulled herself up the steps to ground level. Headlights flashed on the street in front of the building.

Once outside the door of her shop, Selene met Deme, as her sister climbed out of her Lexus SUV. “Thank the goddess, you’re here.”

“Were you going somewhere without me?” Deme asked.

Selene lurched toward the car and leaned against the door. “We need to get there.”

“Are you all right, sweetie?” Deme started to round the car.

“I’m okay, but we need to move fast.” She opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. “Hurry.”

“Where exactly do we need to get?” Deme climbed back into the driver’s seat and inserted the key in the ignition.

“Head toward the Washington Street Bridge.”

Deme shifted into gear and spun the SUV around in a tight U-turn, bumping over the curb on the other side of the street. When they’d gone several blocks, she looked across at Selene.

“Is it the girl? The one you called about earlier?”

Selene shook her head. “No. Someone else. He’s injured and alone.” She closed her eyes, shivering. “And cold. He’ll die if we don’t get to him soon.”

“What about the girl?”

“The EMTs are with her now. But he’s alone.”

Deme’s foot sank to the floor, shooting them along the streets, dodging the occasional driver unfortunate enough to be out on the city streets so late into the night.

As they crossed the Washington Street Bridge, Selene leaned forward, her gaze panning the landscape, the steel, glass and concrete buildings rising high into the night sky, blocking the moon. “Turn left on Wacker.”

On such short notice, Deme slammed on her brakes and skidded into the turn. The rear end continued around and she goosed the accelerator to keep her SUV from making a complete three-sixty.

As they shot down Wacker, Selene dug her fingers into the dash, leaning so far forward her nose almost touched the windshield. He was near, very near. Selene leaned back in her seat, braced herself and yelled, “Stop!”

Deme hit the brakes, bringing the vehicle to a standstill, tires burning into the asphalt.

Selene burst from the door, rounded the car and raced across the street. So intent on reaching the wounded man, she didn’t see the car until almost too late.

A horn blared, tires squealed and an older model Lincoln Town Car swerved, barely missing her.

Without slowing, she ducked between buildings and headed for the river.

“Selene, wait for me,” Deme called out behind her.

But she couldn’t wait, his need drove her forward, sending her on a headlong rush toward the river. She found a staircase leading down to the walkway along the water’s edge.

“Selene!” Deme called out behind her. “Damn it, this area is dangerous at this time of night.”

She knew. He’d been injured by a dangerous animal, his blood running into the river. Selene ran along the water’s edge, heading north. Something moved in the shadow beneath the next bridge.

Fear had a place in Selene’s race to save him. But it wasn’t for herself. It was for him. She didn’t slow until she reached the bridge.

A moan echoed off the steel supports.

A man lay across the concrete, a soaked cape pulling at the string around his neck, but otherwise he was shirtless in the late autumn chill. His soaked trousers were torn and ragged, as though they’d been through a shredder. No shoes, no jacket, his hair, longish and tousled, was hanging in his face.

Selene ripped the coat from her back and covered him, pulling it up to the wounded shoulder. Blood oozed from a deep gash. Not a gunshot wound, but the vicious bite of a raging animal. She tore the hem of her blouse, wadded the material into a pad and pressed it into the gash, stemming the flow of blood.

His eyes opened and he gasped. A low growl rumbled in his throat and his hand reached out to grab her wrist in a fearsome grip, pulling her hand away from the injury. The strength of his grasp hurt, cutting off her circulation.

Selene bit her lower lip, pushing back the pain. He didn’t know what he was doing. “Shh...I’m here to help. We have to stop the bleeding. Let me help.” Tears stung her eyes as his grip tightened. She stared into his face, trying to read his expression, the shadows blurring her view.

If he squeezed much harder, he’d snap her bones. Such strength in an injured man was extraordinary.

She sent soothing thoughts into his consciousness.

Deme skidded to a halt behind her. “Let her go,” her sister said to the man.

“It’s okay, Deme. He’s delirious, he doesn’t know he’s hurting me.” Selene sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “Please, let go. I need to stop the blood. Do you understand? Otherwise you’ll die.” Please, I only want to help.

His eyelids drooped. “Tired. Can’t hold on.”

“That’s right, let go.” Selene peeled one finger loose, then another. “We need to get you help.”

“No hospital,” he whispered. Then his hand slackened and dropped to the ground.

“About damned time he passed out. I was going to have to knock him out so that you could help his stubborn ass.” Deme dropped to her haunches and pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “I’ll get an ambulance here.”

“No!” Selene’s response came swift and sure. From where, she didn’t know. All she knew was that this man wouldn’t want to go to a hospital, no matter how injured he was. “Help me get him back to your vehicle.”

“Are you kidding? He must weigh close to two hundred pounds. There are stairs and...”

“Please. We have to get him out of the cold and bandage his wound before shock sets in or it won’t matter.” She pressed the wad of material to his shoulder. “Give me your scarf.”

“But it’s my favorite.”

Selene held out her hand.

Deme unwound the scarf from around her neck and reluctantly handed it to her, a frown creasing her brow. “You don’t even know this guy. What’s so special about him?”

Selene didn’t answer, instead wrapping the scarf around his shoulder and knotting it over the wound to apply more pressure. Then she stood and grabbed him beneath the injured arm.

Deme took the uninjured side.

The man growled again, guttural and animal-like.

“Get up,” Selene said in a strong voice any drill sergeant would envy. “Get up!” With her sister’s help and the efforts of the half conscious, half naked man, they got him to his feet and led him to the stairs.