Alex wanted to roar, but such a sound would disturb Leila further. So he let his fury rage inside him silently, gnawing at him to destroy something, anything.
Calm. Leila needs me calm.
“Cassidy’s a healer; why wouldn’t she be able to help her?” Alex asked, straining to keep his voice level. Even so, the words were gritted out. Cassidy was also a human, meaning she had less capacity for healing than Aiyanna, as an immortal. As far as he knew, it would impact the amount she could heal, not what she could heal.
“Because.” Aiyanna groaned, then snarled in Cael’s face, almost perfectly mimicking the stern expression he trained on her. For a moment, neither backed down. Then she mumbled, “I may have gone too far today. I’ll work on it. Promise.”
That easily, her mate’s frown softened. He propped his chin on her shoulder when she turned to address the rest of the room. Everyone watched her expectantly, Emmanuel’s lips twitching, Leila with dread in her eyes.
“Because,” Aiyanna tried again, “we can’t make the allergy go away. We can only speed up the natural healing process, which is so much slower with a reaction like this, a healer’s effect would be negligible.” She paused thoughtfully. “I hear there’s a hospital in North Carolina that’s developing a pill that causes the symptoms to be less severe, but that can’t help you now.”
“It can’t help her ever,” Emmanuel added wryly. “The immortal antihistamine is for the ancients who still have reactions to typically found iron. It won’t have any effect on anthracite allergies.”
The kelpie’s statement made Alex wonder how old he was—would he be using this antihistamine? He had nothing against Emmanuel, but in case the man ever betrayed them, knowing his weakness would be a boon.
“How did the iron get into your skin?” Leila wasn’t accusatory, but angry. Good. He’d rather her be angry than focusing on her pain, which appeared twice as bad as what he’d just endured. For months he’d been worried that her spirit was broken; he never wanted to revisit that idea.
He told them everything about the map, the warlock’s plans for said map, the colored pricks of light—including the abnormal ones standing in this room—and his resulting fight with Jared. When he mentioned the destruction he’d caused, he made sure to include the way Brendon protected nearby buildings, and, he assumed, kept humans from looking out their windows to see a hole the size of a tennis court sinking from the street miles and miles into the center of the Earth.
“What does a black mean about Leila?” Mary looked ready to attack the float herself.
“I don’t know. Even when I glanced at the entire world, I didn’t see anything like Leila on the map.” He met her gaze. “If we’re curious, you know the warlocks who notice the difference will be as well.”
Briony reached for Leila’s elbow. Out of everyone in the room, she was a pillar of calm. If she was worried it didn’t show, instead replaced by a serene smile and soft sound of lace trailing over the floor as she walked. “Healers can’t help you, but I may be able to whip something up that can.” She winked. “I’ve got a similar type of magic to what was used on Alex, which should help.”
“Go on, talk about protection and such.” She waved at Raphael, Mary, Aiyanna, Cael and her own mate like they were obnoxious children. “I’m going to need the majority of the kitchen for this, so please take your discussions elsewhere.”
Sebastian sent everyone a look that clearly read, I’ll gut you if you grumble. Alex meant to follow everyone out, but he couldn’t leave Leila. Not with her in this kind of pain, burns he’d caused.
“How do I get the iron out of my skin?” His question was aimed at Briony’s back; she was rifling through containers of herbs and lotions, pulling some, putting them back, whistling to herself, and then stacking the items on the counter.
Alex sincerely hoped the pregnancy-related alterations to her powers wouldn’t affect her potions. If they did and hurt Leila worse, he’d probably do something that would get him kicked out of the pack for good. He took a deep breath for fortification, curling his hands into fists.
More than anything, he wanted to hold Leila until she felt better. His muscles ached for her touch, even as he made sure at least six feet divided them. His hands felt empty, desolate, as air hit the exposed skin he longed to press against her.
The pleading glance she sent him reflected the same feelings. Leila hugged herself, rocking back on her heels with her full lips pursed. She hissed when her injured hand hit the counter. The light impact drew blood, which dripped slowly onto the tile floor.
With only the ability to make things worse, Alex closed his eyes and ground his teeth. Sadness, heavily laden with dread, settled low in his stomach. All he wanted was to pull her into his arms and do his best to keep her safe from the world.
“Gris-Gris? How does he get the iron out of his skin?” Briony spoke to the counter next to her herbs. If the conduit was there, it chose not to reveal itself. It must have answered because Briony nodded. “I was thinking about giving him a good, rough loofah, but your way is probably quicker.”
Silence. Hope bloomed across Leila’s face.
“That sounds pretty excruciating,” Briony said, unconvinced. Her calm was replaced by sympathetic pain. She waved a dried plant that looked like rosemary with pink blooms sprouting up its length, put it down, picked it up again, and pointed it at Alex.
“Gris-Gris said she can get the iron out of you, but for her to get all of it, it’s going to hurt a lot.” She sighed. “The iron has been sinking deeper through the layers of your skin, making it harder to be removed by the moment.”
“Is there another way?” Leila’s chin was high, the shifting of her feet the barest sign of her pain.
“He can scrub it off every day until it’s gone,” Briony offered. “Eventually, with layers of skin removing themselves and the next layers moving up, it should all be extracted in time.”
But Alex wanted to touch Leila now. No, he needed her, every bit as much as he needed food, water and air. Besides, if he kept this metal under his skin, he might forget about it and accidentally cause her more harm.
The sooner he was iron-free, the better. For him and Leila.
“I’m going to do it the cat’s way.”
Gris-Gris appeared directly in front of him. You sure about that, warlock? a female voice asked. The cat swished its tail.
We don’t like your kind, another woman said.
Yeah, warlocks are mean, a child added.
I’ll make sure this hurts more than it has to, don’t worry. The man cackled.
This wasn’t going to be fun.
“Yes, I’m sure.” He wasn’t a glutton for pain, but how bad could it be?
The conduit didn’t need any more permission. Sitting on the floor, its tail curled over its head, the animal was the picture of domesticated innocence. At the same time, without blinking, it decided to rip Alex’s skin away from his body.
There was no physical object tearing across his arms, chest, hands and legs, but it felt like small knives dipped in poison were carefully cutting across him, digging deep enough to hurt without hitting bone.
A guttural yell rose in his throat, but he swallowed the sound, knowing any reaction would only upset Leila worse.
“He’s bleeding,” Leila cried, running for him. Alex tried to walk away, but the magic Gris-Gris used pressed on his every limb, puncturing him and leaving him with the balance of a newborn horse. He fell to his knees, but felt relief because the conduit had thrown something up between him and Leila, preventing her from touching him.
She’s safe.
Alex smiled, tasted blood.
“Enough,” Briony murmured so quietly, Alex wondered if some part of him hoped she said it, rather than having actually heard the word.
The knives stopped digging.
Not all of the iron is out. The previously angry-sounding man whined now, like a child whose ice cream fell onto
the ground.
He’s right, but we’ve brought it close enough to the surface that the damage won’t be permanent, the woman added. The iron should be gone completely by tomorrow.
One invisible blade came back, cutting across Alex’s collarbone. Leila yelled for Alex this time, banshee high in her voice. The conduit ducked its head in pain, while Briony narrowed her eyes on the being she considered her witch’s familiar. It turned black, even the whites of its eyes darkening, before running from the room.
“I meant to turn Gris-Gris into iron, not the color of iron,” Briony grumbled. “Of course, the kind you could touch if you wanted,” she added, smiling at Leila.
Unsteadily, Alex rose from his knees. Most of the shallower abrasions were no longer bleeding, but he could see more than a few cuts that trickled blood from places where he assumed the iron had dug deeper into his skin.
Slowly, carefully, Leila moved to stand next to Alex. Quickly enough that he wasn’t expecting the move, she grabbed his hand. He tried to pull away, afraid there was still enough iron in him to burn her again, but she held tight. Leila’s mouth was a set line. I dare you to make me let go, her narrowed eyes all but said.
He let her win this one not because he wanted to touch her so badly it was a need, and not because he liked the way the tips of her hair tickled his side. No, he held onto her hand because no smoke rose, and while it was obvious from her eyes that she was in pain, there was no indication that holding her hand now made it worse.
“Gris-Gris just told me Cassidy’s here.” Briony set some of the herbs in a pot, covered them in oil and another liquid, and lit the stove. Alex liked the smell that rose—it was earthy, familiar. Even with his elemental abilities, he couldn’t alter these herbs because they’d already left the soil.
Maybe he’d start growing them. Would Briony like keeping a garden with him?
“Oh my,” a small voice said from the doorway. The human who stood there had her arms crossed over her hunched-over figure, making herself as tiny as she could.
“Help him.” Leila had no mercy on the human, who must have been Cassidy. She wasn’t unkind, but her voice held an undeniable command. Alex felt a significant part of himself stiffening despite the blood pooling at his feet, the stinging across his body, and the fact that his woman was in as bad shape as he was.
He pounded a fist against his collarbone. Leila was too busy watching Cassidy to see the maneuver, but Briony shot him an amused smirk.
“Aiyanna said you can’t do anything for me, but I think you can heal Alex,” Leila continued when the healer merely stared at her.
Cassidy relaxed her hands and rose to her full height, which was considerably tall for a human woman. She was the complete opposite of Leila with tight black curls, freckles, and the curves he’d noticed most ballerinas lacked.
Some men would have considered her more beautiful than Leila. Alex wasn’t one of them.
“He’s a werewolf?” Cassidy asked tentatively. Briony nodded in response, suddenly focused on her now-boiling pot.
Aware Leila watched her every move with the same predatory air werewolves often displayed, Cassidy approached Alex and gently placed one hand on either of his shoulders. The slight pressure hurt, but it was nothing compared to what Jared or Gris-Gris had done.
Leila’s eyes brightened in a completely different way from when Alex kissed her, or when she saw or heard something she liked.
She’s jealous. Satisfaction ripped through him, puffing his chest out. Leila is jealous…for me.
Out of all his conquests, including the time he convinced Sebastian to buy a strip club, he’d never cared if a woman was proprietary over him. Then, there had always been women willing to warm his bed, none of which he cared to have over twice. If they did get jealous, it had simply annoyed him. It certainly hadn’t made him happy.
Everything changed with Leila. She alone made him want to rip apart any man who looked at her the wrong way. That she might feel the same way…he’d never been so elated.
The oozing gauges closed all over his body, some becoming nothing more than pink dots on his skin, while others were scabs the size of silver dollars. When Cassidy’s curls began to wilt and shadows appeared below her eyes, she took her healing hands away as she warily watched Leila.
Alex bit down on his tongue to keep from grinning. “Thank you, Cassidy.” He nodded at her, and the human inclined her head, her lips pursed.
“I’m going home,” she announced, ignoring Briony’s invitation for her to stay and have something to eat. “Goodbye.” As quickly as she could, she whipped her bag off the chair she’d placed it in before healing Alex and speed-walked away, her back ramrod stiff.
“I don’t think she likes us,” Leila observed. She still gripped Alex’s hand, had held on throughout the healing.
It was the variation of the pitch in her voice that gave her away. He turned her wrist up, pulled his hand back and inspected her palm. It was almost black, dark enough that she might have lasting nerve damage to keep her from feeling how badly she was burned.
No longer amused, Alex narrowed his eyes at her.
“Cassidy likes us as well as a scared human can like her own personal boogey people,” Briony said airily. She poured the concoction she’d been stirring into a metal thermos she had stored in the freezer. “To help it cool faster, so you can use it once you’re at Alex’s place,” she explained without turning around.
“She’s staying here,” Alex protested at the same time Leila thanked the witch.
“You’re not coming with me.” The farther she was from him until all the iron pushed out of his body, the better. Obviously, keeping their distance was unrealistic. Stealing another glance at her damaged hand, he could have kicked himself. Of course that didn’t work.
“I am.” Leila checked the time on her phone. “Whether Beau can roam free or not, he’s got to be missing us right now; we’ve been gone all day. He must be starving.”
Bringing the dog into this wasn’t fighting fair. Alex rounded on her, but his considerable height and what he thought to be an intimidating scowl merely brought a blank look from Leila.
Who was he kidding—he’d never intimidated her, and never wanted to. But damn if she’ll listen to me about this! He wanted her in his home more than he wanted indoor plumbing, but it was a recipe for disaster.
“Here, you have human police officers watching. I’m going to guess Emmanuel will stay and Gris-Gris will protect the place, not to mention three vampires and six werewolves, one of whom is a witch, a shapeshifter and an immortal banshee. It’s a fortress here, while my house is not.”
“You forgot to mention a haint and his daughter.” Briony set already cut strips of cloth beside the thermos. “Mary and Leila called Wish while you were out getting iron-infused, and he’s coming to stay here too.”
“See?” Alex exclaimed. “Obviously, this is the safest place for you.”
“Oh I beg to differ, mon frère.” Emmanuel, followed by Sebastian, crowded into the kitchen, the latter taking the pot from his mate’s hands to place it in the sink.
“Sit,” Sebastian ordered. Briony shook her head slightly, but obeyed—the absolute opposite of what most of the women in this house would do if their men demanded such.
Emmanuel went to the sink and ran the water, running his hands over the stream. Immediately, he seemed to grow taller, buffer. Alex squinted, but it didn’t affect the change. He was going to have to learn more about kelpies.
“If you’re smart, your house is a dark space on your warlock’s map.” Emmanuel’s voice was louder now, more commanding. “It’s a place where no power can be detected, right?”
Alex nodded stiffly. Were he at home, there wouldn’t be a yellow speck representing him on the map. There would be nothing but blank space, appearing exactly like a house where only humans lived.
Suddenly, he understood Emmanuel’s comment.
“You want me t
o place the same protective spell here.” If he did, every creature with more energy than warlocks would be hidden, protected exactly like his talismans were. If he had to choose, he’d pick his friends over his power any time.
Sebastian nodded. “It’s the one way to protect against so many warlocks, to keep them from wanting our power to begin with.”
Once the warlocks saw what lived here, it would mean bloodshed. And then they wouldn’t hesitate to kill by the most cowardly, immoral means they could. For them, it was all about the end result—power. How they acquired it wasn’t a factor to be considered.
Only Alex had dust from the used talisman in his pocket, which would do no one any good. Until he ripped some pages free of the books he kept in Leila’s studio, he was limited to his earth abilities and small spells that required negligible amounts of energy. He overlooked the fact that those miniscule spells were all witches used, all they needed on a daily basis.
“Where’s Heath? If he could bring me to my house and back, I can give the firehouse the same protections within an hour.”
“He hasn’t been around much today,” Sebastian said thoughtfully. He raised his voice slightly. “Cael! Alex needs a lift!”
Cael came back, scowling and muttering about everyone endangering his mate, but helped him all the same. Alex grabbed a few books housing more energy than Gris-Gris realized and a dog whose breed, and probably species, escaped him. At the firehouse, he went straight for the kitchen where he’d seen Leila last, for her to be gone. His nose to the floor, Beau trotted off, undoubtedly looking for her too.
It took Alex ten pages and an hour to finish his spell. Finally, there was a shift in the air, everything dimming slightly like an almost focused projection, and the lights in the house went out.
All of them, not just the pinpricks of light on his map. Now, the remaining lights twinkling in front of him, indicating life, magic and possibly death, were all that lit the foyer where he stood.
There was a thump upstairs, followed by a dark curse and a feminine laugh.
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