Mercy Temple Chronicles Box Set by Ciara Graves

Author:Ciara Graves [Graves, Ciara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-16T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Rafael

“Mercy?” I pulled my cell from my ear. The screen showed the line was still open. “Mercy, hang on.”

Staying on the line, I bolted from my room at the hotel and out the front doors to the street.

Snow was falling again, picking up as the sun had fallen, it was now nearly a blizzard. I squinted through the storm.

Inn, she’d said at the inn. I assumed that’s where she was staying and remembered the café I met her at was on the lower level of an inn. I took off in that direction, sliding in the snow a few times and picking myself right back up. The door for the inn was halfway blocked by snow, but I barreled through it and burst inside. There was no one at the front desk.

“Mercy? Can you hear me?” I asked her frantically. “Mercy, what room? I need a room.”

“Seven,” she breathed into the phone.

I searched in vain for a sign and found one pointing to the second floor for rooms five through seven. Taking the stairs two at a time, I reached the second floor and only had to look for a few seconds to find a trail of blood along the hardwood floor. There was more smeared along the wall, leading all the way to room seven. The door was wide open, more blood covered it, too.

“Mercy?” I called out, shoving my phone away.

There was no reply, and I walked in, reaching for my pistol under my coat. I made it two steps when I spotted Mercy’s boots sticking out from behind the chair.

Time seemed to slow then move too damned fast as I ran to her. Blood covered her shoulder and hip, oozing all over the rug and floor beneath her. Her eyes were shut, face almost serene. I checked for a pulse and frowned when I spotted the calming blue glow. There were three worms on her neck, white wisps of webbing covering wherever they touched. I’d deal with them in a minute, but I had to make sure she was alive. I found her pulse, and it was strong. She was breathing, but after shaking her gently and tapping her cheeks, she remained knocked out. I picked her up carefully and placed her on the couch then pressed one hand to the wound at her hip which was bleeding worse than the one at her shoulder.

“Mercy,” I growled louder, hoping to jar her awake. “What the hell happened to you?”

There was no response. The scar on her face was an angry shade of red, and her skin was warm to the touch, much as it had been the night she fought the goblins. If I called for help, the Feds would end up with Mercy in their possession. Glancing around for an idea of what to do, I found her cell on the floor and picked it up. It was still on the call for us, so the screen was unlocked. I checked her contacts and saw Bowen’s name.

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