After a quick murderous glance at what was happening outside their private cage, he said from between gritted teeth, “Shit. All right, hold still.”
She froze, pushing out the panic. Moving fast, he tore her capris above the knees and stripped the bloody cloth off her. He used it to wipe her legs and the edge of metal that had cut her, and wadded it up. She fought to wriggle out of her overshirt, hampered by their close space. He helped by shredding it and then he used it to wipe the cuts on her arms and her face as best he could. He added it to the wad of material he clenched in one fist.
Magic surged. The truck coughed and stalled. Goblins ran to unhitch the flatbed, calling to one another as they ran chains underneath. A dozen Goblins grabbed the chains and began to haul them forward.
“We’ve crossed over,” he said.
She had never been to an Other land before. Her mother refused to take her, insisting their best chance at avoiding discovery was to hide among humankind. Despite everything else going on, the feeling of the land was intoxicating.
She peered out the ruined window. Majestic old-growth trees draped with vines towered around them. There was a symmetry to the land that fed her tired spirit. Her gaze followed the thick twist of a tree trunk up until the branches spread out high overhead with the graciousness of a vaulted cathedral ceiling. Steeped with age, drenched with magic, everything looked richer, greener, and the early-morning sunlight shone more golden and bright.
Pain forced her to lie back. She whispered, “It’s beautiful.”
“I’m pretty sure it won’t be where they’re taking us,” he said.
They both looked down at the short-sleeved lemon yellow T-shirt she had worn underneath. The right shoulder was soaked red, along with an area at her waist where she had bled through the overshirt.
“Tear it off,” she said. She pushed away a panicked sense of exposure. She hoped her bra was clean.
His eyes went lava hot as he glared at the Goblins surrounding them. “Fuck if I will,” he snapped.
He shoved the wad of material into her lap and then ripped the shirt at shoulder and waist until he got all the bloodied cloth. What was left of the T-shirt was a ragged mess that left her stomach and shoulder bare but the collar was intact. She peered underneath it and sighed in relief. Her bra was unbloodied.
Last of all, he tore off his own shirt, which was dotted with red spots. He tied the bundle up in the pieces of his shirt.
Then he held it up in one hand close to the crumpled window opening. His eyes narrowed. The lava in them flared just as his Power did. The bundle burst into flame.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
He said, “We are so going to talk about this when we get home.”
She shrank against his chest, away from the flare of fire, staring as he held the ball in his fist. It burned with too much intensity, fueled by his magic. She felt the heat lick along her skin but he was unburned.
He sent a sideways glance outside, a quick evil look, then flung the flaming cloth with enough force that it slapped a nearby Goblin in the face.
“Two birds, one stone.” He shrugged when Pia stared at him. He watched with interest as the screaming started.
The Goblin ran in erratic circles, slapping at his flaming face and howling. The fire refused to die. Instead, fueled by his Power, the magic of the land and whatever was in her blood, it spread to the leather armor. Pia turned away from the gruesome sight. She covered her ears and buried her face in his chest. He cupped the back of her head and watched as the Goblin fell down and died.
Payback was a beautiful bitch. She was also a good friend of his, and they were just getting started.
There were twenty Goblins left after the two Dragos had killed. Before long they were joined by another dozen. The newcomers switched places with the ones that had been hauling the flatbed. The pace picked up.
After Dragos pushed the distorted car out in a few more carefully chosen places, they could move around a little more inside and make themselves more or less comfortable. Then he focused his attention on what was going on outside.
She had watched with wide eyes as he had bent the jagged ends of metal around her legs so she didn’t cut herself again when she moved. That was some kind of scary strength he had. She fished around in the cramped, alien area at her feet and managed to find a battered bottle of water that hadn’t been punctured. They shared half of it in sips; then she capped the rest for later.