I looked to him. I felt like I was moving underwater. “Feel what?”
He tapped his chest. “Joe. Me. Us. Here. You feel it?”
I did. It was thin and weak, but there all the same.
Bonds.
Stretching between us.
“That’s real,” Kelly said quietly. “I swear it. It’s real, Carter.”
“You’re… here?”
Joe nodded. “We are.” He took another step toward me. He was careful. Cautious, like he was approaching a cornered animal.
He grunted when I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward me. I wrapped myself around him, burying my face in his throat. I breathed him in as he hugged me as hard as he could. A wave of pain rolled through my back, and I cried out.
He took a startled step back. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Hurts. Back. I got—no. No, no, no.” I shoved Joe toward the door. Kelly told me to stop, stop, Carter, stop it. “You have to get out of here,” I snapped at them. “Both of you. You need to leave. Before he—”
“Livingstone,” Kelly said. “We know.”
That stopped me cold. “What?”
Joe and Kelly exchanged a look. “We feel him,” Joe said. “It’s how we knew we were close. He’s out there, isn’t he? Somewhere in the woods.”
“He’ll hear you,” I snarled at them. “He’ll know you’re here. He can’t—”
“He won’t,” Kelly said. “Not unless he’s close. We’re protected. Muted. He can’t hear us. He can’t smell us. Not while we’re here.”
“How?” I demanded. “You don’t know what he is. You don’t know what he can do. He’s—”
The door to the cabin opened. I jumped forward, shoving my brothers behind me. I snarled at the shadow in the doorway.
“Oh, go to hell, Carter,” the shadow said. “Is that any way to act for saving your sorry ass? I swear to god, I’m surrounded by morons.”
“Gordo?”
Gordo Livingstone stepped into the cabin. He scowled as he shut the door behind him. The lines around his eyes were more pronounced, hair a little longer. He looked me up and down, shaking his head. He took in a shuddering breath. “Come here.”
I couldn’t move.
He rolled his eyes before coming toward me. A moment later I was enveloped by the warm scent of his magic as he hugged me, his hand going to the back of my head, fingers in my hair. “I can’t believe you,” he grumbled into my shoulder. “How could you possibly think this was okay? What the hell is wrong with you?”
My knees gave out, but he held me up, leading me back toward the bed. He almost fell over when he sat me down but managed to keep himself upright. He crouched before me, and I thought he was trying to pull away. I didn’t want to let him go. “Look at me.”
I did. “You still don’t have a hand.”
He snorted. “Yeah, imagine that. Haven’t figured out how to grow one back. Weird, right? Hold still.”
I didn’t look away for fear that he’d vanish.
He reached over and slid the sleeve of his jacket up his arm. His tattoos were glowing, and I watched as more and more were revealed. Signs. Symbols. Roses. And then the—
Raven.
There should have been a raven.