The following morning dawned brightly, with sunshine pouring into every uncovered window within the coterie. Lightbearers woke feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, soaking up the sun’s rays as the perfect antidote after several days of gloomy, stormy weather.
The snow was fading away, as well, as the temperature pushed into the fifties. Crocuses and snowdrops dotted the landscape, appearing as if by magic. Tulips and daffodils pushed through the cold, wet earth. The rain from the past two days had gone a long way toward helping to remind everyone that spring was indeed heading their way.
Miguel Santiago lay in the middle of the bed in the cottage he’d once shared with his mate. He lay there, his body still, his eyes closed, letting the sunlight pour into his body, rejuvenating him. The trip back to the coterie had been grueling, spurred by the poor weather and the excruciating pain on his face and in the hand he’d accidentally put through the windowpane on the kitchen door at Carley’s home in Chicago. The first time he looked at his face after the bitch threw that scalding coffee at him, Miguel had flown into a rage and broken the mirror, injuring his hand all over again.
He was disfigured. If he’d been at the coterie when it happened, he could have gone to a healer, who would have both stopped the pain and fixed his face. After three days, though, he wasn’t sure what a healer could do for him.
Without opening his eyes, he lifted his injured hand and gingerly touched his cheek, then his forehead. He felt the puckered skin and winced as his own touch caused it to hurt anew.
Carley survived a spill down the side of the cliff. A healer ought to be able to fix his damn face. The problem was, he was afraid to go to the healer who fixed Carley. She may be the best in the coterie, but she was also sympathetic to the shifters and would undoubtedly alert them to his presence.
He forced his eyes open. He might have to take the risk. He needed to get himself fixed, and he needed to get back to Chicago. He needed to kill Mica for double-crossing him. He needed to kill Carley for her role in the death of his precious Chosen One. But what he relished most of all was the idea of killing the shifter that his errant mate has been banging for who knew how long.
While he still worshipped his wonderful, albeit dead, Chosen One, Miguel mused that the man had been going about his plan all wrong. They shouldn’t have focused on killing the lightbearers who were choosing shifters over their own kind. They should have been trying to kill the shifters themselves.
Miguel climbed out of bed and stripped out of his clothing, letting the articles fall to the floor as he made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. More anger coursed through his system as he thought about the fact that if he still had his mate, she would clean up after him. And she would have summoned a healer who would fix him.
The shower was agonizing. The warmth felt good on the rest of his body, but every time a drop hit his face and hand, it was pure torture. He needed a healer, and he needed one soon. He washed quickly and turned off the water, drying himself with a towel and then heading back to the bedroom to change into clean clothes.
It was time to get fixed, so he could get on with his plans.
*
“Carley,” Alexa said in surprise when they passed each other in the upstairs hall at the beach house. “You’re back. That was quick.”
Carley grimaced. “Yes.”
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Something I need to handle on my own.”
Alexa reached out and touched Carley’s arm. “If you ever need to talk…”
Carley shook her head again. “I’m okay. Well, I’m not really, but I’ll figure it out.”
Alexa wanted to press, but she needed to get to her appointment with Olivia’s little one. One of the other healers in the coterie had overextended herself the day before, and Alexa wanted to stop by and give the healer some of her own healing magic—along with a firm lecture about the importance of stopping before she reached the point of passing out. Healers were no good to anyone if they weren’t conscious and able to work their magic. Alexa’s day had suddenly become quite busy, and she was anxious to get on with it. So she let Carley go and continued down the hall to Olivia and Tanner’s bedchamber, and her first appointment of the day.
The visit turned out to be a swift one. The pup was doing remarkably well, given his precarious entrance into the world. Olivia was doing well also. The wound where Alexa cut her to pull the pup from her womb was healing nicely. There was almost no visible scarring. She was confident Olivia would be able to bear more children, should she and Tanner wish to do so.
“We’ll see,” Tanner said ominously. “I’m not sure I can handle the stress of watching my mate go through that again.”
“Now that we know what to expect,” Alexa insisted, “it won’t be so hard next time. We will cut the pup out at the first signs of labor and be done with it.”
Tanner didn’t look pleased at the idea of slicing open his mate again, but he did not press the subject.
Alexa bid them both good day and hurried from the beach house, down the stone steps to the village below. She spotted her ex-lover, Jake, meandering along the path to her left, which was the way she needed to go, but as she had no wish whatsoever to see him at the moment, she turned to the right instead, and headed toward the cover of a small patch of trees.
This path led her near to Finn and Cecilia’s home, which reminded her once again of Carley. Did Cecilia know her cousin was back? Alexa considered stopping in to inform her, but decided against it. She really needed to get to the other healer and get her fixed up before she made her rounds of the coterie, checking on her current patients and tending to any new ones that cropped up.
It was at the edge of the woods, just as she was about to step into a swath of yellowed, tall grasses that separated the trees from the beach beyond, that she was accosted. One moment she was hurrying along, the next, she was grabbed from behind.
An arm circled around her neck and squeezed tightly as she flailed and gasped for air. Another hand wrapped around and grabbed one of hers.
“Heal me,” a gruff voice commanded, and Alexa’s hand was lifted and placed upon a face that was puckered with some sort of markings. Her reaction was instantaneous. It was almost impossible for a lightbearer healer to resist healing someone once they’ve touched that person. The healing reaction occurred, almost unbidden.
Such as what happened in this case. Alexa sucked in a breath, gasped as the pain hit her.
Burned, she thought as her body automatically sucked the pain and injury from whomever was standing behind her, squeezing her neck so that she could get just enough air to breathe.
The injuries were several days old, so Alexa knew she would not be able to fix the already-formed scars entirely. But her healing magic did pull away the pain, and fixed the wounds as best as she could. If she was doing so willingly, and understood the extent of the injuries, she might be able to do more, but doing this blindly, the person was lucky to get what she had.
“Stop,” she ground out as she fought to pull her hand away. “That’s all I have,” she rasped. Her head was swimming. If she did not stop soon, she would pass out, just like the lightbearer who she meant to visit this morning.
Finally, the man released her, and Alexa dropped to the wet ground on her hands and knees, wheezing and gasping for breath.
“Thanks, you good-for-nothing bitch,” a male voice growled, and then he was gone. She could hear him running through the undergrowth.
“Good for nothing?” she muttered. “I just fixed you, asshole.”
“Excuse me?”
Alexa looked up and up and up, at the tall, masculine figure of Reid Hennigan, Finn’s brother. The one Carley had taken as a lover.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “Talking to myself.”
Reid offered his hand and she allowed him to help her to her feet.
“You okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
Alexa shook her head. “Some stupid lightbearer needed healing, only he didn’t have the decency to ask. He just took it, and took a little too much.”
Reid looked surprised by that comment. “I thought you had to give it willingly?”
“That’s our magic in general, like Olivia and her pup. Healing magic is more…automatic. Usually, we just touch someone with an injury, and the healing starts of its own accord.” She bent and brushed at her wet knees. “Is Carley with you?” she asked casually.
Reid’s eyes widened. “No. Why do you ask?”
Alexa flushed. “I just—I guess—” She cleared her throat. “I think I may have overstepped my boundaries.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Alexa gave him a quizzical look. “Well, I saw Carley up at the beach house, and you’re down here…So I assumed she would be with you. Last week, it seemed like you two were practically inseparable,” she said with a shrug.
A peculiar look crawled across his face before he said, “No, she isn’t with me.” And then he turned and strode away, toward the beach and away from the face of the cliff.
*
What the hell was Carley doing here? Surely she hadn’t come back looking for him? How the hell did she know he was here? He hadn’t told her where he was going. Had she simply assumed, or was she back for an entirely different reason?
Was she back because she really did intend to go back to her mate?
The idea was preposterous, of course, but that didn’t stop his overactive imagination from determining as much. She’d lied about having a mate at all, so why not lie about how she felt about him? For all Reid knew, she’d simply wanted a little strange for a while, and had every intention of going back to the man all along.
He walked to the water’s edge and stood there, looking out over the blue-green depths of Lake Michigan. Chunks of ice floated in the water, and a few brave seagulls perched on the handy rafts, letting the waves take them where they would.
There was an idea, he mused. Shift into a bird and let the wind take him where it would. Start over. Someplace else. Someplace new. Someplace where he didn’t know a damn person. Carley had the right of it, when she told him, when they first met, that she wanted nothing to do with any other magical beings. Wasn’t that why he had been in Chicago in the first place? Because he wanted to get away from the pack? He never imagined he’d meet a lightbearer, and he surely never imagined he’d fall in love with her.
Nor had he imagined she would be mated to another, he reminded himself sourly. He shook his head in disgust. He really should—
The sound caught his attention a scant moment too late. Before he had time to turn around, he was hit from behind, hard enough that it felt as if his skull was being cracked in two. His body pitched forward as the chilly waves of Lake Michigan rushed to meet him, just before the darkness washed over him and he felt nothing at all.
*
Carley was heading out the front door of the beach house when she ran into Cecilia.
“Carley,” Cecilia said in surprise. “You’re back. Have you talked to Reid, then?”
Carley blinked in surprise. “Reid? Why do you ask?”
Cecilia mirrored her surprised look. “Well, because he’s here too,” she explained.
“He is?” Carley couldn’t be more shocked. Reid was here? In the coterie? But what was he doing here? She seized the front of Cecilia’s shirt.
“He’s in danger, Cecilia.”
Cecilia glanced over her shoulder, as if she expected danger to materialize there. She then whipped her head back around and gave Carley a wide-eyed look. “How so?”
“Miguel,” Carley said, determined to be honest and forthcoming. Finally. “He means to kill Reid.”
“Oh no,” Cecilia said, and then she breathed a sigh of relief. “Miguel isn’t here, Carley.”
“I know. He was in Chicago a few days ago. I came back to prepare for his return.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But I’ll come up with something. I—I injured him when I saw him last. I believe he’ll come back, looking for a healer. And I plan to be waiting. I’m going to—to—” She stuttered to a stop.
“To what?” Cecilia pressed.
“If he’s dead,” Carley whispered, “I won’t be mated anymore.”
“Oh, Carley,” Cecilia said as she covered her mouth with her hands. “You can’t possibly intend to…”
“I have to do something,” she said with new determination. “I can’t let him hurt Reid. Even if Reid won’t ever take me back, I can’t do that. I have to stop him, Cecilia.”
“We should tell Tanner.”
“This is my problem, Cecilia. I brought this on myself—and Reid. I need to fix it. I need to make it right.”
“Fine. But I’m going with you.”
“No way. I’m not taking the chance. Finn would kill me.”
“You said yourself that Miguel is in Chicago. And Tanner had the coterie searched after Reid returned. They found a cave in the woods, just over there.” She pointed at the thick stand of trees two hundred yards north of the beach house. “He’s been living there, I guess, all this time.”
Carley glanced to the north. “That explains how he knew I was here last week,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Well, let’s start there. Let’s go see this cave.”
“What are we looking for?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll know it when we find it.”
The two women left the house and trudged through spongy, dormant grass, heading toward the nearby woods. They were at the edge of the line of trees when Carley had the most unusual feeling wash over her. She came to a stuttering halt. Cecilia gave her a curious look.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. I feel…strange. Like a rush of apprehension and then…nothing.” She frowned. What did it mean? She’d been conscious of her ability to sense Reid’s emotions for some time now. Was that it? Where those his emotions? What was he apprehensive about?
“I think Reid just discovered I’m here,” she said grimly, as realization dawned.
“Oh, Carley,” Cecilia said unhappily.
They continued on to the cave. It was dark and dank and clearly had been lived in recently. It smelled strongly of unwashed person and clothing. Miguel, it appeared, was a lousy housekeeper.
“I can’t believe he lived like this,” Carley murmured as she crawled around the cave. It was just large enough for she and Cecilia to move about on their hands and knees, but not to stand erect. “He’s normally as obsessive as Reid.”
“All shifters are like that, I think,” Cecilia replied.
“Yes, but Miguel isn’t a shifter.”
“And neither are his intentions remotely pure. Look.” Cecilia picked up a small notepad that was partially tucked underneath the pile of musty, old blankets Miguel had been using as a bed. She flipped it open and read a passage.
“The Chosen One knew the truth, better than any of the rest of us. And I could have saved him. If my bitch mate hadn’t interfered, I would have been there, and I could have saved him. But she didn’t care. She wanted him dead. She killed him. I wish she’d died when I pushed over down the stairs that day. But she didn’t. I have to kill her. She deserves it. She killed my dreams.”
Cecilia lifted her horror filled gaze to look at Carley. “He pushed you down the stairs?”
Carley nodded.
“Is that why you left?”
“I was afraid he would try to finish the job, once he realized I didn’t die.” She waved at the notebook. “I guess my fears were justified.”
“I wish you had said something, had gone to Tanner. He would have protected you.”
Had she taken that route, she might not have ever met Reid, might not have fallen in love, might not have lost that love. At the moment, the way her heart felt as though it was literally broken, she couldn’t say which would have been the better choice.
“I was pregnant too,” she admitted. “But I lost it in the fall.” Tears pricked her eyes and she tried to blink them away.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” Cecilia whispered as she gathered Carley in her arms and hugged her tightly.
“It’s okay now,” Carley said as she swiped at the tears. “I mean, I was growing excited over the idea of having a babe, but it was definitely clouded by the fact that it was Miguel’s child.”
Cecilia nodded her understanding. “How did you interfere and keep him from protecting the Chosen One?”
Carley shrugged. “I’m not sure, other than because I didn’t actually believe all that propaganda he fed his followers. That night—the night he pushed me down the stairs—the Chosen One came to our house. He touched me—my head. I think he somehow read my thoughts or something. I don’t know. Whatever he saw there, he decided that Miguel needed to stay behind to watch me, instead of go with the rest to go after the shifters or whatever they intended to do.”
“They came after me,” Cecilia said grimly. “The Chosen One was actually my brother, Cedric, who we all thought died a decade ago.” She looked down at the words scrawled across the pages of the notebook.
“He faked his own death, then spent the next ten years recruiting followers, lightbearers who would never dream of allowing shifters into the coterie. Then, when Olivia mated with Tanner, and I started hanging out with Finn and the other shifters, he became furious because he and my parents had been unable to turn me to their way of thinking. The night Miguel pushed you off the cliff, Cedric and his followers came to the beach house to kill me, just because he hated me. He also planned to kill the king and queen and Olivia so that he could take over as our ruler.
“That had been his initial plan, according to the followers who have been rehabilitated. He wanted to be king. Figured he should have been next in line, since Olivia wasn’t male. Us bringing shifters into the coterie exacerbated his hatred. Gave it more focus, I suppose.”
Carley ran a hand through her hair. “That certainly explains why Miguel wants to kill Reid now.”
All of a sudden, she felt a strange sensation in her mind. Like…pain. Far-off pain, as if she was feeling it secondhand. A memory, of sorts.
“Reid!”
Cecilia jumped, bumped her head on the cave ceiling, and dropped the notebook. “What?”
“Reid!” Carley cried again as she scurried for the entrance to the cave. “He has Reid!”
*
“Wake up, damn it!”
Miguel slapped the shifter with the belt again. There was a satisfying snapping noise as the leather hit already puckered and scarred skin. Who knew whipping someone would feel so damn good? Whoever had done it to this guy before knew. His back was a tangled mess of puckered, ruined flesh. This wasn’t this shifter’s first go-round with a leather belt.
He lifted his arm and brought the belt down again. This time, the flesh broke and blood began to ooze. The shifter finally stirred, too, groaning loudly as he was pulled back into consciousness.
“That’s it,” Miguel chortled. “Wake up for me. I want you to feel it. I want you to feel the pain, shifter. And I want you to know why you’re feeling the pain.” He smacked the shifter with the belt again. “Yeah,” he said with enthusiasm as the shifter’s body jerked when the belt broke skin again.
“Yeah.”
*
Shit. It was happening again. Quentin? No—Quentin was dead.
But Reid was being whipped again. The feeling was unmistakable. His arms and legs were tied, he was on his stomach, and he came awake to the feel of leather biting into his skin—again.
This time, though, his head ached too. The last thing he remembered was standing on the beach, looking out over the water, and contemplating flying away somewhere. Anywhere.
And then he heard a sound, but before he could turn around, he was hit from behind and knocked out cold. Now, he was trussed up like a slaughtered deer. What the hell?
Leather bit into his flesh again, bringing with it the sting of pain and the memories of the last time, and he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out, as his body jerked from the impact.
“Wake up. I want you to feel it. I want you to feel the pain, shifter. And I want you to know why you’re feeling the pain.”
That wasn’t Quentin’s voice. Who the hell was it? Reid finally forced his eyes open and turned his head to the side.
“Yeah. There you are. You awake, shifter?”
Lightbearer. But not one he recognized. What the hell was going on? He tried to pull on his shifter magic but nothing happened. The lightbearer had warded the straps around his arms and legs.
The man lifted his arm and slapped him with the belt again. Must be his belt. Reid hadn’t worn a belt since the last time he was whipped.
“Who?” he mumbled.
The man laughed. “Who am I? You don’t know? You’ve been fucking my mate. How long have you been fucking her? Do you know who I am now?”
“Miguel,” Reid croaked. A woman. It always came back to a damned woman. He shook his head, tried to fight the radiating waves of pain.
“You guessed it, shifter. Too bad my bitch mate isn’t here. I’d sure like her to witness this. She ruined my life. I wish she could watch while I ruin yours.”
Despite everything, Reid was glad the man didn’t know Carley was indeed in the coterie, right now. If he did…He shuddered at the thought. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him like this.
“I wish I had one of those devices, like the humans have, that records things,” Miguel said as he delivered another smack with the belt. Blood flew from Reid’s back and splattered across Miguel’s face. He wiped it away and scowled.
The sound of a door slamming against a wall rent the air. Miguel’s head whipped around as he stared at the entrance to the bedroom where he had Reid trussed up.
Carley burst through the doorway. “Reid!” she shrieked, and she charged at Miguel, grabbed the belt and jerked it from his hand. He was so surprised by her actions that he didn’t even fight her. But his shock was momentary.
“You bitch. I’m gonna kill you.” He stalked toward her, fury blazing in his eyes. Reid watched, helpless, unable to do a damn thing to help her. He struggled against the bindings, but he couldn’t break free.
When Miguel lunged, Carley moved out of the way, turning at the last minute and giving him a push from behind that sent him stumbling headfirst into the wall.
“Thank the lights for Vivian,” she muttered. Reid guessed the human woman had taught her those moves. He was impressed, despite himself.
Cecilia darted into the room, and he watched her eyes widened as she took in the bloody mess on his back. She rushed across the room and used her magic to untie his limbs. He groaned, tried to roll over onto his back, and hissed in pain before pushing himself into a seated position. His head swam, and he fought back nausea.
“Stop moving,” she commanded.
“Help her,” Reid responded.
Miguel grabbed Carley by the hair and flung her into the wall. Reid roared as the magic of the shift took over his limbs.
“Carley!” Cecilia screamed, and she ran and then leaped, landing on Miguel’s back. She reached around and scrabbled at his disfigured face with her hands. He shrieked and bucked her off his back. She crashed to the ground with a resounding thud.
Miguel turned his focus to Carley, reaching for her, even as Reid, in panther form, sprang, leaping toward him. Before he made impact, Carley swung her arm, landing a punch to Miguel’s face. The impact flung him to the side and Reid missed him, skidding into the wall instead. When he turned around, he watched as Carley grabbed Miguel’s shoulders and lifted her knee, hitting him hard, right where it would hurt the most. He fell to the floor like a sack of flour, howling in rage and pain. Reid shifted back into human form and groaned as he collapsed onto the floor, a few feet away from Miguel.
Carley scrabbled across the floor to Cecilia, who waved her away. “Go,” she said. “Help Reid.”
She came to him, although she hesitated a foot away. He reached for the shirt that Miguel had taken off his body and tried to hide his ruined back, but she grabbed it and pulled it back over his head. “Stop. That will only make it worse.”
“Give me the goddamned shirt, Carley,” he said with a growl. “I don’t want anyone to see this.”
“Why not? It’s not like you did it to yourself.”
“No,” he said. “You did.”
She gasped, reeling from his comment. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. He heard it in her voice. She really was. And it wasn’t even her fault. She hadn’t been wielding the leather belt. He needed to be man enough to say so, to take back his scathing comment, to quit being an ass and forgive her. He needed—
Her eyes suddenly widened, and at the same time, the tip of a sword poked through her body, just above her right hip.
“No!”
She made a gurgling noise as her gaze dropped to look at the offending instrument. Blood pooled around the wound, slid down to the tip of the sword, and dripped onto the floor.
“No!”
Someone was shouting, begging, maybe sobbing. It took Reid long seconds to realize it was him. She fell forward, into his arms, and her eyes fluttered into the back of her head as a trickle of blood slithered out of the side of her mouth.
“No!”
He held her tightly, conscious of the blade still sticking from her body. He was afraid to pull it out, afraid to cause her more injury and blood loss.
“Carley, baby, talk to me. Stay with me. We’ll get you help, sweetheart. Carley?”
Cecilia clamored to her feet and rushed from the room. Reid sat on the floor and rocked Carley like a child, having no idea if she was even conscious enough to hear him as he told her how much he loved her and didn’t want her to die, and that they would work through this, somehow. Some way.
He didn’t know if Miguel was alive, or if he was even still in the room. He didn’t care. All he cared about was Carley. He hoped Cecilia went for help. He was afraid to jostle her too much, for fear of making her wound worse. She had already lost so much blood. It was everywhere, pooling on the floor, dripping onto his leg, coating his chest.
Suddenly, two very large and angry shifters filled the doorway. Finn and Tanner.
“What the fuck did you do to my brother?” Finn roared as he strode across the room, lifted Miguel and slammed him into the wall. “And his mate?” He delivered a bone-crunching punch to Miguel’s face.
“Carley!” Cecilia sobbed as she stabbed her finger at Reid and Carley. “Save her!”
Tanner’s gaze traveled over the scene, and then he immediately turned and rushed from the room, shifting into the form of a cheetah as he ran. Finn walked over and scooped Cecilia into his arms. “I can’t leave you alone for ten seconds, can I?” he asked, just before he crushed her against his chest, hugging her as if he never intended to let her go again.
“I guess not,” she admitted, and they walked over to stand next to Reid, silently offering their support as he held Carley’s bleeding, limp body.
Tanner finally returned, excruciatingly long minutes later, with Alexa and Jake in tow. “Save her,” he commanded, stabbing his finger at Carley’s body.
“Not again,” Alexa said on a breathless gasp as she rushed across the room and dropped to her hands and knees next to Reid. She murmured an incantation and the sword instantly disappeared. She grabbed Reid’s shirt and tore it into two pieces. “Hold this,” she commanded, and Reid pressed the material to Carley’s back, while Alexa held the other bit of material against the hole in her stomach and began murmuring another incantation.
“Save her,” he whispered.
“I’m trying,” Alexa responded. Sweat beaded on her face. Jake hurried over and placed a hand on her shoulder. His hand flared with magic. She tried to shake him off.
“Let me help you,” he said.
“I don’t need your help.”
“Yes, you do.”
Alexa grimaced, but did not ask him to remove his hand again.
“Holy hell, what happened to your back?” Jake asked Reid.
Reid growled. Alexa’s eyes popped open. “What?”
“Just save her,” Reid snapped.
“She’ll fix you next,” Jake commented. “Trust me, I know. She won’t stop until everyone’s back to normal.”
Back to normal? What the hell was that?
“Knock it off, Jake,” Alexa said through gritted teeth.
“Just do your damn job, Alexa,” he replied. His hand glowed where it held Alexa’s shoulder. Unless Reid was mistaken, Jake was feeding her his magic, giving her what she needed so she could fix Carley. Reid felt a grudging appreciation for the male lightbearer’s presence.
With a great gasp, Carley suddenly came awake, her body instinctively bucking and stretching, even as Reid struggled to hold her. Her eyes blinked rapidly, as she looked around, appearing disoriented for a few seconds, before she focused on him.
“Reid,” she whispered, and then she grabbed his neck and hugged him. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she sobbed.
He awkwardly patted her back, conscious of their audience. “It’s fine,” he said. “Let’s just—”
“He’s gone.”
Reid’s head whipped up, and his gaze followed the path Cecilia made with her finger, to the space on the floor where Miguel had been lying in a ball, cupping his injured balls.
Tanner and Finn both swore roundly. They’d all been too preoccupied with worrying about Carley to notice when he slipped out of the room.
“Let’s go,” Tanner said to Finn. “Round up the guards. We’re gonna find this motherfucker once and for all.”
Reid stood, taking Carley with him, and then he gently handed her off to Cecilia. “I’m coming, too,” he called to Tanner.
“No, you aren’t, buddy,” Alexa said. “Not until I heal you.”
“I’m fine.” He started to reach for his shirt and realized it was in two blood-soaked pieces on the floor. Carley’s blood.
“No, you aren’t. But you will be, as soon as I’m done.” She waved her hand across his back. Light flared. He heard her whistle. “Some of these scars are years old.”
“Yeah. So what?”
“I wish…”
“Damn it, Alexa,” Jake growled, “You aren’t a fucking god.”
“No, but I am a healer, and if I can still help, then I should.”
Jake grumbled some more, but Alexa ignored him as she placed her hands on Reid’s back. He winced at the initial impact, but her healing magic instantly began to pull the pain away, and after just a few heartbeats, he couldn’t help the sigh of relief.