Windburn (The Elemental Series #4)(39)

“Thanks, Dirt Girl.”

“Any time, cat.” I spoke to her, but my eyes were glued to the Tracker. She had stepped back and waved at the space around her.

“If you want to talk, then f*cking well spit it out,” she yelled up at me.

I scooped up my spear and started down the slope, taking my time. “Call off your dragon.”

“Ophelia,” she waved a hand above her head, “ease off, you big bitch.”

The dragon dropped like a giant red rock, thumping into the sand and sending up a wave as if it were water and not earth. I made myself not look at the enormous creature. But even from the corner of my eye I couldn’t help but pick up details. The dragon was easily twice the size of the adult Firewyrms I’d encountered in the Pit, and her wingspan was impressive. Not to mention the size of her teeth and claws. Her hide caught the sun, sending flickers of red light dancing across the sand like a prism.

A formidable creature indeed.

I reached out to the power of the earth and tugged it to me. In case this discussion with the Tracker went in a direction I did not like.

“You know,” Peta said, her body swaying with each step I took, “I can’t help but think this is a crossroads for you.”

“Why?” The question escaped me before I thought better of it.

“You mean besides the fact that you’re willfully breaking rules?”

We were halfway down the slope. “Yeah, besides that.”

Her whiskers tickled my cheek as she spoke. “Trackers bring chaos to all they do. Like you, they can’t help it.” She blinked several times. “It’s because of their heritage. Add a Tracker to your own tendency to cause problems . . .”

A chill swept through me. I had a feeling I knew what she was going to say. “Should I guess, or are you going to tell me?”

With a shrug and her tiny cat smile, she shook her head. “You know already, I see it in your eyes. The Tracker has Spirit Elemental blood running through her veins, as do they all.”

I slid to a stop at the base of the sandy valley. Once more I planted my spear haft into the sand. “My name is Larkspur, and I need you to Track my father.”

The dark-haired Tracker arched an eyebrow at me. Her eyes were tri-colored: emerald green, chocolate brown, and a deep gold that swirled within and around one another. She didn’t hold her hand out, only tipped her head ever so slightly forward as her eyes narrowed.

“My name is Elle, and you already know I’m a Tracker. But what the f*ck are you?”





CHAPTER 13





eeth and muscles clenched, I had to fight the response that rose to the tip of my tongue.

“Tell her you’re a witch. It will explain any usage of your elemental power around her,” Peta said.

Elle’s eyes never wavered from my face. I mimicked her head-tipping motion. “I’m a magic user, as you thought.”

“Weird f*cking way to say witch.” Her eyes narrowed until they were mere slits.

“Not as strange as a Tracker having a Slayer’s dragon with her as protection,” I countered.

She grinned, a flash of white teeth and a smile that softened her face immensely. “Ah, Ophelia isn’t mine. She belongs to my husband, Bram.”

Bram . . . could it be? No, I must have heard wrong. “What is his name?”

The smile disappeared and her gaze darkened once more. “Bram.”

I gripped the spear until I was sure I would break it in half. “Is he here?”

Her frown deepened. “Why?”

Calm, I had to remain calm. The chances that my brother had somehow survived Cassava’s attack were slim, and the rational part of my mind knew that. But my heart . . . ahhh how my heart hoped it was possible. “I knew someone by that name. It is an uncommon one. I wonder if he is the same Bram.”

“A lover?” Her eyebrows went up at the same time. She tried too hard to look like it wouldn’t bother her if that were the case. I shook my head and laughed quietly.

“No. Someone I knew a long time ago.”

“Couldn’t have been that f*cking long, you aren’t much older than me.” She turned as she spoke. It was only then I realized I’d lost Cactus somewhere along the way.

I turned to see both Ophelia the dragon and The Bastard staring toward the water’s edge, away from Elle and me. Shit on green sticks . . . I had a bad feeling about what exactly they were staring at. A shout floated down to us. I looked at Elle, our eyes met, and we scrambled up the slippery slope at the same time.

We reached the top, me a few steps ahead of the Tracker. Cactus and the man I assumed was Bram circled one another with their fists up.

“Bram, what the f*ck are you doing?” Elle hollered. Bram glanced at her and it was enough of a distraction. Cactus shot out a fist that caught Bram in the side of the head and he went down in a heap. “Hah! You owe me.”

What in all that was holy was this nonsense?

“Cactus,” I strode toward him, “what is going on?”

“Oh, well, it’s funny really.”

Bram let out a groan from where he lay in the wet sand. “Not all that funny, if you ask me.”

I allowed myself to really look at him now that I was closer. His hair was a dark auburn, and his eyes were hazel. Nothing like my Bramley, who’d been blond-haired and blue-eyed. Disappointment, and at the same time relief, flooded me.