by Anna Abner
“But.” Roz’s mind was skipping with questions and theories.
“And just so you understand,” he said as they reached the elevator banks. “It hurts every time I shift.”
In the elevator, he slid down against the interior of the car and slumped to his bottom.
Roz hit the button to the fifty-first floor and then pulled out her cell. She texted Connor, and when the elevator doors opened her best friend stood on the other side waiting for them.
“What happened?” he demanded, helping Lukas to his feet. “Were you attacked? Is this from last night?”
“It’s complicated,” Roz said, following them into the suite. “I’ll explain later. Help me get him up.”
Connor hustled the hulking shifter into Roz’s room and onto her bed.
“Call the doc,” Roz said waving Connor away as Lukas dropped onto the mattress, rattling the box springs, the bed frame, the very floor and walls.
Nodding, Connor seized her phone and left.
“Stay down,” Roz told Lukas, reaching for his shirt to investigate his cursed wound. “You’re acting like a baby.”
“Stop calling me names.” Lukas snatched her hand and squeezed to the point of pain. “I don’t want a doctor, and I don’t want to lay in your goddamned bed. Just make the curse stop bleeding.”
Roz recognized a wounded male when she heard one. He wasn’t angry, merely embarrassed and in pain. Probably two sensations Lukas wasn’t familiar with.
“You’re taking my bed,” she repeated with finality, “because you can’t even walk by yourself and you’re about to pass out from blood loss. And I’m calling the doctor for the exact same reasons.”
Lukas shoved her away and grabbed the only thing of any heft within his reach. He threw a spindly-legged chair against the wall. It splintered, and two legs broke off.
“I wouldn’t be in this fucking condition if you’d heal me,” he shouted, looking like he wanted to punch the walls down.
“Dude,” Roz began. “Your—”
“I need to be out there. She could get away. She could do it again. Heal me!”
The bedroom door burst open. “What the hell?” Connor demanded.
Lukas lunged, but he was wobbly, and Roz stepped between the two men. “Connor,” she snapped, “I’ve got this. Please, leave.”
For a moment, she feared he’d stay to play big brother, but he must have seen something in her eyes.
“I’m right on the other side of this door.”
“I’ll scream if I need you,” she promised, and then faced Lukas, arms crossed and left hip cocked.
His eyes were wild, feral, and golden in color. If he didn’t take it down a notch, he was going to shift.
“Calm down,” she told him dismissively. “You’re too worked up.”
“Jävel!” He sucked in a breath before spearing her with his half-crazed stare. “You could solve this whole problem in thirty seconds.”
“How?”
“Heal me.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” She couldn’t cure diseases, mend bones, or break hexes. Her magic was more ethereal. She chanted protection spells, never knowing how much help she provided. She could put a person to sleep, or at least make them yawn, but that day in the trailer park when they’d saved his life was about the most intense magic she’d ever spoken. Nothing she did lasted for longer than a day.
“Bullshit,” he countered. “You said yourself you’ve never had a mentor. You don’t work with the Coven. How the hell do you know how it works?”
“I know, dipshit, because I’ve been speaking spells for ten years. I’ve tested the limits.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-five. How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.” He waved his hands around in an agitated manner. “Regardless, have you pushed your magic so hard you cry? Or bleed? Or shake the walls?”
She glanced away. No, she hadn’t. To be honest, and this was so stupid, but it scared her. What if she burst open like Ali? What if the magic burned out of her? What if she pushed it and lost it altogether?
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, deflecting the question. “We need the doc ASAP.”
“Heal me.” He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, and slammed her against the wall. Immediately, he sagged, leaning elbows on the fancy French wallpaper, like she was the last crutch holding him up. “Roz, please.”
Chapter Nine
“Heal me!”
Roz got angry. Lukas loomed over her, panting and flushed, and she didn’t appreciate it.
“I wish I could!” she shouted. Healing his broken leg was beyond her skills.
“Then do it.” Lukas’ forehead fell softly against hers. “Put my body back together, so I can be of some fucking use.”
She swallowed, shaking out of his grip. “Blessed is my power—”
“Forget that bullshit,” he said, nudging her to break her concentration. “You’re a witch. You are power. Heal me.”
“Be whole,” she said, focusing her gaze on the center of his heaving chest. His body and heat obscured everything around her until it was just him and her, nothing but touch and smell and body heat. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring his wild scent.
“Mean it.”
“Maybe Sara…,” she hedged. The other witch didn’t seem to suffer the same inconsistencies Roz did.
“I’m not asking Sara. I’m asking you.”
“Heal,” she said, louder. Particles of power popped out of her flesh and rose, surrounding her. A whirlwind roared to life under her skin, sending shockwaves through her. “Heal, Lukas.” She flattened both palms to his chest and electricity hummed between their bodies. “Heal.”
Her hair rose and her clothing pulled back, blown by the power. This was as far as she’d ever gotten, always too scared to advance further. What if she drained her spark? What if she lost it forever?
“Don’t stop,” he said into her ear. “It’s working.”
She not only wanted to impress him, but also those bitches in the Coven. She wasn’t just a freak with a little juice. She wasn’t a benchwarmer or second best. She had magic, Goddamnit. She pressed further, drew up more energy, and focused her full attention on his battered body.
“Heal.” Her power vibrated so violently, she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall at her back to brace herself. Behind her lids, the world was black, but the invisible wind continued circling, whirling, pulsing.
“Be whole, Lukas.” She sensed the words pass between her lips, through the vortex, squiggles of neon blue spells. “Heal.” She pictured his broken leg like a medical drawing—his bones fused together, his muscles bulged with new life, and tiny nerves sparkled. New, healthy blood surged through his veins, replacing what he’d lost.
Lukas collapsed to his knees, falling still and quiet as magic bombarded his body.
Roz perceived the hex carved into his ribs as a glowing affront to his otherwise perfect form, and she attacked it. The X glowed red before fading completely.
She ceased the spell, slumping against the wall. Lukas’s forehead bumped against her abdomen, and then his hands scrabbled around her hips.
She blinked to clear her vision and found Lukas staring at her. “It didn’t work,” was her first thought.
Slowly, she sank to her knees, but she’d barely touched the ground before Lukas’ fingers tangled in her hair. With a groan of need, he kissed her. A wild, desperate kiss. His breath was hot, his tongue sweet and slick between her lips.
She was so surprised, she kissed him back.
And then her stomach heaved, and she ran to the bathroom before she puked all over him. Bending over, she threw up into the toilet until she was empty and raw inside.
“Jesus,” she groaned, closing the lid and dropping heavily upon it.
Lukas stood in the doorway, watching her as if he’d never seen her before.
“You were fierce,” he said. “Your eyes turned colors again
.”
“Was it that bad?” she asked, scrubbing her mouth with the back of her hand. She felt shaky and a little seasick, as if the ground swayed beneath her feet.
She glanced down at his two robust legs. His stitches were gone, scattered on the floor. His ribs were pink and healthy, showing no signs of the hex. When only dark goo remained of the black magic cast against him, Lukas wiped it away in one swipe, as if it were nothing more than stage make-up.
He took a few steps, flexed, nodded. “Un-fucking-believable.”
“Is it better?”
He grinned, and his big, rough hand shot out to pull her against his chest. He kissed her again, hard and quick, on the forehead. She held her breath.
“I’m exhausted.” As if that and the kiss were enough of an answer, he left her to crawl into the bed and sprawl across her sheets, his huge feet dangling over the edge.
“What are you doing?” He couldn’t sleep. She wanted to investigate more thoroughly, ask him what he’d experienced, what had happened. Try to figure out why he’d felt it necessary to cap the spell with a kiss.
“What the hell is going on?” Connor demanded, breaking through the bedroom door. “Roz?”
“In here,” she called weakly.
He appeared in the doorway. “Are you okay? Did he try something?”
“No,” she said, still unable to comprehend jack. “But you can call off the doc. I broke his hex.”
Connor’s frown deepened as he stared down at the sleeping shifter. “What’s a hex?” He stepped around her. “He’s out like a light.”
“It was a magical wallop,” Roz said. “It didn’t feel that great for me either.”
As if noticing her on her slumped upon the toilet lid for the first time, Connor offered her two hands up. “We were about to order room service. Come on, let’s talk creatures that go bump in the night.”
Relieved to put breathing room between her and the overpowering Lukas, Roz gratefully took Connor’s hands and followed him into the kitchen while he called Dr. Julia Burke and told her to stay home.
“Is he okay?” Ali asked, perusing the room service menu though she’d probably read it a hundred times and tasted every option. “What’s his name again?”
“Lukas,” Roz told her. “I think so. I healed him, and then he went a little…goofy and passed out.”
“What’s ‘goofy’?”
She still tasted Lukas on her lips, wild and earthy. But she didn’t know how to explain the kiss or how her friends would react to the news.
“He grew affectionate,” she said.
Connor scowled darkly. “Not too affectionate, I hope. I don’t like that guy. Maybe you shouldn’t be alone with him.”
Being alone with him was becoming the best moments of her day. Not to mention being alone with him was what had pushed her magic to new depths. She wasn’t ready to give him up.
“He’s harmless,” Roz said.
Both Connor and Ali made matching scoffing noises.
“Really,” Roz said, waving away their concern. “I like him.” Though the words startled her, she did like Lukas. His paranormal power thrilled her. And there was something exciting about the way he moved, the way he talked, the way he fought. She wanted to spend more time around him. When she wasn’t with him, she was thinking about him.
Connor shook his head at her, but he let it go. “What do you want for dinner?”
“I don’t care.” With a sigh, she sat at the dining room table with her laptop. “Some chicken, I guess.”
She half-heartedly listened as Ali ordered plates of food and drinks for them to share. Vegetarian for Ali, rare steak for Connor, and a Cobb salad for Roz. Meanwhile, Roz brought up her map of waypoints and stared blankly.
“What do you see?” Connor asked, coming up behind her.
“We got lucky last night.” She pointed at the spot along Highway 95 near the solar panels. “Maybe we should go back and look around.”
“But where is the horde sleeping?” Connor mused. “It’s not under the solar panels.”
“We could start there and circle out until we find something,” Roz suggested.
“It’s worth a try.”
Roz thought of Lukas passed out in her bed. “But not tonight. I’m still shaking from casting the healing spell.”
“Mind if I go out alone?” Connor asked.
“I’ll come with you,” Ali said immediately. “You’ll need someone to watch your back.”
Connor’s eyes softened as he stared at her. “But you’re a terrible shot.”
Grossed out by their affectionate teasing, Roz turned her back on them and tried to busy herself with different digital maps and satellite images of the desert along Highway 95.
After dinner, Connor and Ali left hand in hand, and Roz made herself comfortable in the living room with her books and maps. She lost track of time scrolling site after site about shapeshifter lore. Wolves, panthers, and tigers. The were-bear in her bed still hadn’t stirred, and she delved deeper into strengths, weaknesses, sightings, and witness reports.
At some point, she must have fallen asleep on the couch because she woke to morning light and Lukas banging cupboard doors in the kitchen.
Roz stood up and stretched tense muscles, as the shapeshifter sniffed around their suite, peering at the contents of the fridge.
“How do you work this damned thing?” Lukas growled, slamming the coffee pot into the maker and shaking the whole contraption.
“Ease up,” she said, smiling despite herself. It wasn’t cute, damn it. He wasn’t cute. “You’ll break it with your gorilla strength.”
He harrumphed, insulted, and she started the coffee.
“I’m not an animal.”
“Sorry,” she said. “That was rude.”
“That’s your style, right?” he countered.
If he thought her mood issues were her buttons to push, he was so far off point. If he wanted to hurt her, he should go straight for the jugular. She failed. For a living. Everything she tried, she sucked at. College. Magic. Friendships. Relationships. She’d screwed them all up. Being called a bitch was practically a compliment at this point.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “How’s your leg?”
He bounced on his toes. “Like new. Better, even. But I could really use some breakfast. I’m starving.”
She exhaled in relief, having spent a great deal of the night worried her healing spell would be temporary. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the surge of power she’d channeled the night before.
“I’ll call room service.”
“I’d appreciate it,” he said.
“Is this like a fresh start?” she asked, thinking of his mouth on hers.
“No,” he said. “It’s more like, I’m hungry and you have the key to the snack cupboard.” He caught her eye, and she couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. “But if you use your magic so I eat worms or something and think it’s spaghetti I’ll destroy you.” A tiny wisp of a smile crossed his face, and she knew he was playing with her.
“I prefer to charm maggots into jelly beans.” She picked up the phone beside the sofa and ordered a full breakfast with lattes and juice. “Just FYI.”
“You must have questions,” Lukas said, his upper body in the pantry cupboard. “Go ahead and ask. I figure I owe you one or two for the spell last night.”
After all the research she’d done on the paranormal, after all the conversations she’d had with Natasha about shifters, she was standing in front of a real one, and he was answering questions. Her mind raced with all the things she’d wondered about. What do you eat? Do you remember everything when you shift? Can you shift into any animal?
Why did you kiss me last night?
But she settled on, “What makes you want to kill vampires?” because it seemed the most important point at the moment. Especially considering he’d been accused of murder a couple days ago.
A dark cloud settled upon his face, and some of the
humor left his eyes. “Vampires took out my entire family.”
She made a startled noise in her throat. Oh, God. A massacre had never occurred to her. He must be in so much pain.
He shook his head, dismissing her ungraceful attempt at sympathy. He’d given up snooping for snacks and leaned against the counter. “We were here on vacation. One followed us back from a concert.” His expression turned positively granite. “Have you ever seen a dead child, Roz? My half-brother Oskar was only twelve, and she ate him like he was a turkey leg.”
The words I’m sorry died on her lips. Sorry was too small a word. “How did you survive?”
“Because I heal fast,” he said. “I woke up at the bottom of an abandoned mine shaft out past the city surrounded by the bodies of my mom, my stepfather, my little brother… Just one more family that doesn’t come home from vacation. A blip on most people’s radar.”
“How long has it been?” His grief was so raw it couldn’t have been long. She ached for him and the horror he’d suffered.
“Ten days.”
So soon. “You were in that trailer park looking for more. But why didn’t you shift back to human after they caught you?”
“I figured if I shifted into human form, they’d only kill me faster. I had a better chance of escaping as a bear—I’m stronger that way. I was close to breaking free when you knuckleheads rolled up.”
The food arrived, and he grew very serious as he parceled breakfast onto two plates and then devoured eggs, bacon, and hash browns, only pausing to slurp café au lait. Roz knew better than to interrupt a beast when he was hungry, so she picked at her omelet and sipped thoughtfully.
“One more question,” he grunted. “Then we’re even.”
“Where’s your pack?” she blurted out.
“I don’t have one.”
“I thought all shifters belonged to a pack.”
He raised one eyebrow. “I thought all witches belonged to the Coven.”
“Okay, tough guy. Do they not have packs in Sweden, or something?”
“They do, but I don’t want some alpha trying to make me conform.”
“Maybe you’re an alpha,” she suggested.
