Blue Moon Rising (The Patroness) by Natalie Herzer Page B

knees. But I had recognized the sounds. Bullets. In a heartbeat I had Cutter out and in my hand and looked around.
    “Move away from him!”
    I searched the area where the voice had come from. Kylian slumped down and I saw a red puddle of blood soaking the back of his shirt. Shit.
    Out of the shadows of the Montmartre cemetery came a tall man towards us, holding a loaded crossbow in his right hand. He looked like a fantasy. Dark hair curling nearly to his shoulders, strong jaw covered with stubble. He was clad in black; shirt and army pants, stuffed with guns and ammo. And a quiver was strapped over his back. This man was a fighter. Good or bad? Well, I would find out very soon.
    I stepped into his firing line so he couldn’t get another shot at Kylian who was still lying on the ground. What the hell did he do to him? How could he have knocked out Kylian with such few shots?
    I rotated my wrists, swinging Cutter invitingly around. Ready.
    Frowning , the guy stopped short in his tracks and looked at me as if I was mentally deranged. “What the hell are you d oing? I don’t want to fight you. I thought you needed help.”
    Huh? Was he out of his mind or just blind as a mole? “Help?” I asked him.
    “Yeah. You know, giving assistance to someone, to aid.”
    “Against him?” I motioned towards Kylian.
    “Yes.”
    I had to rein myself in. “Just so we’re on the same page here, what are you talking about?”
    He continued speaking to me as if I were a child, slowly pointing his finger first to Kylian and then to me. “He’s a shapeshifter and would have hurt you.”
    I nodded, then looked at him, took a deep breath and exploded. “You dimwit! First of all, I know what he is, secondly I’m a witch and thirdly we were kissing each other. Not attacking.” The last bit I nearly screamed at him. Whoa there, settle down dear hormones. Frustration was a bad, bad thing.
    “Oh,” was everything he came up with.
    I needed to calm down and concentrate. “What did you use on him?”
    “Silver bullet ,” he replied absentminded, still mulling over what I had told him.
    With a crossbow? Then I took a closer look and noticed it was a combination weapon, crossbow and gun in one. Nice.
    “How many?” And why hadn’t I heard anything? Maybe because you were too wrapped up in exploring his mouth with your tongue, Maiwenn. Grrr.
    “Three.”
    Shit, not many at all. I looked at Kylian then at the new guy, fearing the worst.
    “They are special, containing magically enhanced silver,” he announced, confirming my suspicion. “I made them myself,” he added and grinned happily while standing there as if expecting a round of applause.
    “You stupid, blind ass. For that you’ll help me carry him home.”
    He looked stunned. “Why would I do that?”
    I looked at him and whatever he saw made him change his mind. “Okay.”
    Half an hour later we had Kylian flat on his stomach on my couch. I went into the bathroom to get my magical emergency-kit and into the kitchen to fetch some freezer packs. Then I crouched down beside Kylian, cut his shirt with scissors to examine the wounds. “Help me, will you? Just turn him a little so I can have a look at his chest,” I asked the stranger.
    No exit wounds. Not good. The bullets were still in him.
    “The bullets won’t exit. They’re made to liquefy as soon as it’s inside the target,” the soon-to-be-dead guy finally disclosed. Great. “Usually one is enough though.” Fucking great.
    We removed the rest of Kylian’s shirt, stripping him to the waist. “What’s your name, by the way?”
    “Jean Chastel.”
    I looked up at him, blinking in surprise. “We’ll talk about that later.”
    The skin on Kylian’s back around the three holes was reddish and swollen, and fine gray lines were quickly spreading out like a growing cob web. His veins, now filled with poisonous silver. I cleaned the wounds, applied an ointment with analgetic properties to smooth the way for wound