Jagged Embrace

Chapter 51 - Mason

Mason stepped on her cigarette and pulled out her flask. She had to be ready to see Ander, couldn't be upset. She slipped the flask in her pocket and opened the door. She heard the various animals as she strode to the back area, but refused to look at their said faces. Mason was not there for more furry kids; it was hard enough to keep up with her critters. Mason's steps slowed as she wondered about the last time she'd fed Spaghetti, her Burmese python. Spaghetti was over ten feet now and she'd had to start feeding her more. Her lips dipped into a frown. She'd been in such a hurry to get to Ander, she didn't know if she had remembered to give her dinner. Shit. Mason hoped Spaghetti didn't eat Fluffy and Poppy, her Bengal cats, before she got back to her keep.

She tilted her head at the doctor as she passed him in the hallway and went to the last room, where Ander rested. It was supposed to be a storage closet, but the doctor had converted it into an all purpose room to take care of Soldiers of Night as needed. Her hand paused on the doorknob, and she concentrated to make the tremble go away.

Ander was almost as she expected, except worse. Fuck, that werewolf had ripped him open. Mason closed the door harder than she'd meant to, stunned he wasn't in a coma. But he didn't stir. She told the vet to keep him sedated until she got there. His chart sat on a utility shelf near her, but she didn't bother to read it. Most of it she didn't understand. She took in the machines they had connected him to and glanced at his vitals.

Mason leaned closer and peered at his chest and shoulder. Even with bandages, she could tell the damage was bad. Fucking fleabags, their teeth and claws didn't heal like regular wounds. Something in their saliva and in their claws, almost like poison, kept healing to a minimum. At least for most people. Some took even longer to heal from werewolves. Ander was one of those people.

Mason stepped back, slipped off her flannel, and locked the door. She stretched out her arms and cracked her knuckles before putting the small cat tote bag she'd brought with her on the utility shelf and started separating and preparing the various components. There was no choice. She had to do the ritual, or he wouldn't heal up for weeks and the damage would be permanent. His shoulder would never work the same way again. 

She mixed the components into the small stone bowl. Although she tried not to let her thoughts wander, it was impossible for her not to recall the numerous spells and rituals she'd casted on Ander to heal him over the past nine months. Components she never believed she would run out of were low and hard to replace. Mason grumbled as she used the pestle to grind things together. 

The healing ritual wouldn't be as intricate as the ones she'd used to reattach Ander's hands and not nearly as draining as when she and Will had repeatedly battled the sorcerer to save Ander's soul. Her damn boys were going to send her to an early grave. She paused. No, her failing body was already doing that. She was tempted to take another drink from her flask to ease her anxiety. Instead, Mason rolled her shoulders and shook out her hands. She removed the carefully placed bandages and refused to feel the nausea or fear that threatened to engulf her. His wound was grisly: meat, bone, and tissues.

Everything was prepped. Mason closed her eyes and allowed the image of Deirdre's turquoise eyes gazing at her with love and compassion to fill her mind. Her chest seized as the memory sliced through her heart. Mason had kept her promise. She would always keep her word. She would always watch over them, until her last breath.

Mason began as she always did, thanking the spirits of her ancestors and nature deities. Most of her power was borrowed from her deceased family members, or the earth itself. Unless it was arcane magic, she didn't need to tap into her bloodline. Technically, because most of her abilities were tied to the natural elements, she shouldn't use arcane spells, but did so because most of her family, before they were involved with the Soldiers of Night, were what others would have called witches and specialized in arcane magic.