To Race the Wylde Wynd Chapter 23

Templer's awareness came slowly to him this time. Two transformations in a day was a lot to ask of his body, modified or not. He remembered the harrowing race to the river and the terrible realization that they weren't going to win it. A desperate need to know that everyone was still alive and unharmed had him dragging himself into a sitting position before his body was ready. The priest realized this was a serious mistake as all of his muscles seized up. He helplessly rolled back onto the ground, his entire body caught in seizure like spasm. There was no stopping the gasp of pain that pushed itself past tightly closed lips.

The Talon could not hear or see anything, so caught up was he in the struggle to get his screaming body unlocked enough to draw the next breath. He did feel as strong hands rolled him up against a large warm body that was vibrating strongly. The subliminal rumble of Nuva's sweet, deep croon penetrated the haze of pain, and very slowly dissipated it. Templer realized, as his muscles relaxed enough for him to suck in lungful after lungful of the sweet night air, that he had been propped against the resting mare. She was lying down with her body partially curved around him. The deep rumble gradually quieted and then died away. His pain returned but thankfully at a level that the priest was able to control.

The subtle sound of movement nearby had his eyes snapping open and caused him to reach instinctively for the Trinity. Chrysta materialized out of the darkness and the Talon just managed to stop himself before he triggered another spasm. It only took him a moment to figure out that reaching for the weapon was a wasted effort anyways. The big gun wasn't on his hip. For that matter neither were his pants.

“It seems to be becoming a habit for me to wake up naked when you are around.”

Templer was a little surprised by how weak and hoarse his voice was. Chrysta's worried face relaxed into a smile but her green eyes were dark with concern as she untwisted the blanket he had managed to tangle himself up in and tucked it back around his suddenly chilled and aching body.

“Crap Constantine, don't scare me like that!" She sounded a little shaken. "Azra wasn't kidding when he said these changes were hard on you.”

The woman very carefully lowered herself down until she was sitting with her back against Nuva next to him. Templer quickly realized that the blanket she was wrapped in was her only attire. He couldn't help himself.

“Where are your clothes?”

Yes, he would be the first to agree that this was a stupid question. He HAD an excuse though... he was tired, his brain felt like mush and his body felt like it had been joyfully trampled by a team of Chrysta's drafters. Templer believed he was entitled to ask a stupid question or two.

The woman's eyes flicked sideways and the wicked little smile that stirred her lips set all the little alarms off inside his head. She closed her eyes as she tilted her head back to rest it on Nuva's warm hide before answering.

“Azra MADE me take them off.”

“WHAT?”

Templer couldn't stop the reflexive jerk of his body as his head snapped around in shock. As everything locked up again in pain, the thought that was foremost in his mind was... ask a stupid question!!
Chrysta swore as she flew to her feet and disappeared into the dark again. This spasm wasn't as bad as the one before. By the time the woman returned, he had managed to prop himself back up. Just this little bit of movement had him breathing hard through clenched teeth.

The woman knelt next to him and held a cup of steaming liquid to his lips.

“Here, drink some of this.”

The Talon took a sip and at the look on his face his companion sternly warned him.

“Don't you DARE spit that out! I have had my fill of sitting on top of stubborn males tonight because they don't have the brains to know what is good for them. You WILL swallow that and drink some more!”

As if the grim look she gave him wasn't enough, Nuva rumbled in support of her trainer. The mare curved her ridged head around and gave the gunman an evil look of her own. Templer wisely swallowed the bitter brew. When he had managed to down about half of the cup, Chrysta relented and settled back to sit next to him. He watched in morbid fascination as she drank the rest of the nasty stuff in one go and did not bother to try and hide his satisfaction when she shuddered as she set the cup down.

Those lovely eyes met his gaze and Chrysta shrugged, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Hey... I never said it tasted good, just that it was GOOD for what ails you.”

“What's in it?”

The Talon was curious because he could already feel the pain releasing its razor edged grip on his overtaxed body.

“It is DREAMLEAF...” Azra's deep voice not only held a note of concern, but also one of relief “...and although this is not the safest way to administer it. I for one, would rather take the risk than deal with any more pain tonight!”

Chrysta snorted, and in response to Templer's raised eyebrow she added.

“Azra, and by proxy YOU, took one hell of a beating opening a path for us to the river. Add to that a frigid swim in the river along with almost drowning...” She shook her head. “Your outrider was in pretty rough shape by the time he made the shore. He reminded me of a piece of meat that had gone through one of Grant's sausage grinders. When I tried to treat his injuries... He did point out the fact that you have accelerated healing abilities...”

“Like THAT mattered!” This bit was muttered under Azra's breath. Chrysta smiled before continuing…

“He also mentioned that with two transformations so close together YOU were going to need them. After watching you wake up... Let’s just say I was pretty sure that without the dreamleaf, neither one of you is going to feel like getting up and RIDING in the morning!”

Nuva chortled her agreement and then settled her nose back into the grass with a sigh.

Chrysta stretched her bad leg and a slight grimace tightened her lips.

“I even gave some to Zephyr, he is going to be very stiff tomorrow.”

Templer realized he hadn't seen the big male since he regained awareness, and he sat up straight to look around for the black. He was pleasantly surprised when the movement was almost pain free. He still could not see Zephyr.

“I wouldn't be too worried about him, he felt well enough that he is taking a trip around the camp to make sure nothing nasty sneaks up on us. I would imagine he is also looking for little sleeping tidbits to snack on. Speaking of which...”

Chrysta shifted next to him and slowly climbed to her feet. “Are you hungry?”

As Templer watched his companion limp heavily to the banked fire he felt Azra stir uneasily in the back of his mind.

“What's wrong?” he quietly asked the demon.

The outrider answered with his own question, so softly that his host almost couldn't hear him.

“Are you feeling any pain?”

It took a moment for the point that the demon was trying to make to sink in.

“How long does it take to build up a resistance to dreamleaf?”

Templer knew nothing of the drug but trusted in Azra's knowledge.

The demon kept his reply at an almost subliminal level.

“I am not sure. It is not highly addictive. I believe that developing a substantial resistance to it would take a very long time.”

They both watched in silence as the woman made her way back and carefully sat down. She had a bag that Grant had stuffed with bread, cheese, apples and little spicy meat pies. He had also packed a small bottle of red wine that Chrysta regretfully set aside.

“We will have to save that until tomorrow. Drinking alcohol and dreamleaf together would be a big mistake.”

Azra made an odd choking sound. Chrysta looked up from cutting the bread and apples. Templer's expression must have caught her attention because she set her knife down and asked,

“What?”

“How long have you been taking dreamleaf?”

The demon saved Templer from being the one to ask.

Chrysta's eyes narrowed a little, but she answered him.

“Six years, every day, twice a day except for one day out of every eight, to clear my system.”

“That's DANGEROUS!”

The demon made no attempt hide his shocked reaction.

“I have no choice and you do NOT want to be having this conversation with me.”

The woman's voice had taken on an icy edge that Templer had not heard before.

Azra was practically sputtering,

“SOMEBODY needs to have it with you!”

Something shifted in those eyes and the priest tried to intervene. He had a sudden, very bad feeling about this.

“Shut up, Azra.”

“I will not shut up... HOST. Taking it like that can have LETHAL consequences!”

His outrider evidently wasn't paying close attention to Chrysta's face because if he had, he would have taken Templer's advice. The gunman saw his companion's face take on an unearthly stillness and her eyes were like dead flat ice. He felt SOMETHING that had been placed between her mind and his suddenly crumble. Nuva jerked, moaning in reaction. Templer had a split second to think "Oh Shit" before a knife of ice and flame buried itself just left of and below his left nipple. It drove deep, through his ribs then down across his stomach and groin. A tendril of flame snaked across his right hip then all the way down his leg. The muscles all along the lethal slash pulled back, jumping and twisting as if trying to remove themselves from the unbearable pain's vicinity. For the third time that night, Templer found himself in the grip of uncontrollable muscle spasms. For one hideous moment he had the fear that somehow he was back under the Maker's scalpel, reliving one of their worst experiments. Then it just STOPPED.

All the man could do was lay there and gasp. He could hear Azra savagely cursing as if from a great distance. Chrysta finally stirred and gently helped him to sit back up.

The woman held his glowing eyes captive with her own. Hers still held that strange, dead ice look.

“Not very pleasant... is it?!”

The green started to leak back in as she sat back and her gaze was almost back to normal when Chrysta looked away with a sigh and went back to slicing bread and apples.

“When you can tell me how to live with that every moment of every day, I will gladly give up the dreamleaf.”

Templer couldn't help himself.

“Gods be DAMNED... Azra! When I say shut up... SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

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link to next chapter
https://steemit.com/fiction/@fetherhd/to-race-the-wylde-wynd-ch-24