“You work on that—the cubs can help you. I’ll do the sprinkling and try to get Graham free of these vines.”
Dougal saluted her, a mirror in each hand. “You heard her, kids. Help Uncle Dougal. Matt, stop eating.”
Matt shook himself free of another bag of chips and trotted off after Dougal and Kyle. Misty mixed the petals in the water with her hands, then lifted the mess and dribbled it over Graham’s body.
Water pattered down to bead on his skin. Roses and the wet stamens of honeysuckle, the purple and white streaked petals of iris dropped on him, sticking to his chest and arms, curling around his tatts. Misty knew Graham was truly out then, because he’d have snarled at flowers covering his tatts.
Something bright flashed into Misty’s eyes. Dougal’s voice carried across the cave. “Hold it still, move it to the right. The right. No, the other right. Goddess.”
The light moved around wildly, winking in the darkness. A wavering beam slid onto Graham’s body, faint but clear.
“There!” Misty shouted at him. “It’s touching him.”
“Now call the blessing,” Dougal yelled back.
“What do I say?”
“Keep it simple. The blessings of the Father God be upon you.”
“The blessings of the Father God be upon you, Graham,” Misty repeated quickly.
Her words drifted into silence. The beam wavered again, spearing the wall and falling onto a strand of vine. The vine shrank away from the reflection, receding into the wall. Weird, Misty thought dimly, because plants usually tried to push their way toward sunlight.
Somewhere in the darkness, she heard little voices say, “Hold it still.” “You’re moving it.” “I am not!”
Misty started scooping more water and blossoms onto Graham, every drop, every petal. “Damn it, Graham. Wake up!”
The vines around Graham jerked. Misty sucked in a breath. The vine flowers watching her trembled, light flashed over them wildly as the twins struggled with each other over the mirrors.
The ground shook a little, the earth giving a groan before it went silent again. Graham’s eyes popped open.
Misty stilled, hands balling into fists, droplets of water snaking down her wrists.
Graham’s gray eyes were blank, unseeing, but his chest heaved upward as he took a deep breath.
Sunlight from the mirrors hit him straight in the face. Graham’s fists balled, and he jerked his arms open, snapping a few vines that held him.
He sat up, dirty, wet, and coated with flower petals. His eyes cleared, and he looked down at his body, then up at Misty.
“Misty!” Graham roared in a voice that brought more pebbles down from the ceiling. “What the f**k are you doing here?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Graham was weak. Dying—he knew it. The only thing that had kept him from going insane while the vines smothered him was the thought that Misty was safe.
Now Misty sat next to him, looking pleased with herself. She had dirt and yellow pollen smeared all over her, her hair a scraggly mess, and a big smile on her face.
Graham never seen her so beautiful.
“What the hell are you doing?” Graham demanded. “This is my fight. Get out of here.”
“A fight you’re losing. Why did you sneak off like that?”
“I didn’t sneak off. I was summoned.”
Misty lost her smile. “Leaving in the middle of the night without telling anyone is sneaking off.”
“Stubborn little . . . I told Reid. And he told you, the ass**le. He was supposed to keep you home and not let you come after me. He’s dead meat.”
“Reid didn’t tell me anything. He left me a note . . . It’s a long story.”
“Misty did a spell,” Matt said, running up to them. “She spun around and around, and then we were here.” Matt demonstrated.
“And you brought the cubs?”
“Yes,” Misty said. “Stop yelling. You’ll cause a cave-in.”
A few more pebbles rained from the ceiling. Another faint groan sounded, as though rock shifted.
“I want you out of here,” Graham said.
Misty didn’t wilt under his glare. No, she knelt there looking all pretty and sexy. “We came to get you out. I have a lot to tell you, but we can talk later.”
“Later? That will be a first. Usually you want to talk without delay.”
“Very funny, Graham. Can you break away?”
“I’ve been trying. Then I got covered with the damn vines and passed out.”
“Enchanted sleep,” Misty said. “You were in an enchanted sleep. I got you out of it, you know, like in Sleeping Beauty.”
Matt laughed. “Uncle Graham is Sleeping Beauty.”
Graham grabbed at the vines that held him, but he’d lost so much strength he could barely budge them. Uncle Graham was more screwed than anything else.
“I can’t leave,” Graham said, even as he tugged at the vines.
“What are you talking about? Why not?” Misty grabbed the vines and pulled too.
Dougal materialized out of the darkness, holding a mirror in one hand, a wolf cub in the other. Graham thought he’d scented his nephew over there. He wanted to start roaring again, but he stopped himself. Yelling would only upset Dougal, and Dougal needed to keep calm and not go to pieces.
“I can’t go, because Reid is trapped.” Graham tore away another vine that had rewrapped his wrist. The fact that he was too weak to do much about it worried the hell out of him.
“He’s trapped too?” Misty looked dismayed. “Where?”
“In the ice.”
Misty stood up, which gave Graham a nice view of her legs in her shorts. Her skin was scratched and abraded, but even that couldn’t mar her. Some of the scratches were from last night with her, when Graham had made hot pounding love to her in her garden. The thought of doing that again someday was one thing that kept him from crumbling and dying as Oison wanted him to.
“Where?” Misty started walking away, toward the sheet of ice.
“Misty.” Graham sat up, jerking at the vines. They still wouldn’t let him go. Dougal tried to help, but to no avail.
“He’s in there?” Misty stopped, horrified. “Is he dead?”
“Hell if I know.”
Dougal kept trying to free Graham, starting to moan when he couldn’t. Graham had to switch his attention to bolstering Dougal’s confidence. When he looked back at Misty, she was leafing through a book.
Must be her little book about flowers. The one that had gotten him drunk on tequila, making him take another step in his relationship with Misty.