by Sadie Jacks
Atlas moved past me into the infirmary. Grabbing one of the robes we’d used to restrain Ransom, he came back out and dropped the robe in Asher’s lap.
“Talk. Now.” I could feel everything slowing down. My heart rate, my thoughts, even my breathing.
“Captain Silent said we needed to retrieve Kiema’s magic from the place of healing. We needed to get it inside her again or she could die.”
“And you’re just now telling us this why?” I asked, my voice almost pleasant in its softness.
“Because Kiema woke up and then Lukas was getting his from Xander.” Asher hunched his shoulders in defense. “I was going to say something as soon as things settled down.”
“Settled down like what, Asher? Kiema’s heart rate? Her brain activity? Her circulation? You don’t think, Asher.” I spun away, pushed through the infirmary doors. “Lukas, you’re with me. The rest of you stay here.”
I didn’t look back to see if they obeyed me. They knew not to push me in this state.
“I need to touch her,” I told the veritable stranger.
“On it, gov.” He limped to the far side of the table. Grabbed her hand.
I growled low in my throat, my body jerking forward before I got it under control.
“Easy, mate.” His voice was low, non-threatening.
I nodded. Grabbed Kiema’s other hand. I cleared my throat. Twice.
“Honey? Can you hear me?”
Lukas made some kind of sound next to me. I ignored him.
Kiema moaned, her brow twitched.
“Let me see those eyes, honey. Come on. I need to see your beautiful silver eyes.”
In the dim light, I saw her eyelids flicker open. She peered at me.
My heart settled, warmed itself in the flame of her spirit.
“There you are. The man who was mute, what did he tell you while you were on the helicopter?”
“Hellion? He said I needed to heal all of you. That you were necessary, that you would help me.”
“Did he mention your magic?”
Her brow furrowed as her eyes struggled to stay fixed on one thing.
“He told Asher that we needed to get your magic back inside you or you could die. He didn’t say anything like that to you?” I was going to fucking wring Asher’s neck.
She shook her head the slightest degree. “No, but he did give me two golden spheres. They looked like the bloody ones I puked up at the cabin.” Her eyes slid shut on a big sigh.
“Honey?” I patted her hand.
Nothing.
“She’s back under, mate,” Lukas said.
I nodded, unable to let her go. I leaned down, kissed her hand. I started to pull away, letting my fingers trail along her skin.
I was still touching her when Lukas removed his hands completely.
**
“Fuck!” I was immediately sucked out of my body. I wasn’t in the infirmary anymore.
“Saint? What are you doing here?” Kiema asked.
“Where is here, honey?” I looked around.
Everything was green, like walking through a jungle. But there was no sound. No wind through trees, no birds chirping, no animals rustling through the underbrush. Nothing.
“This is the spirit plane. How did you get here?”
“Where are you?” I asked. I couldn’t see her. Unless she’d morphed into something green and tree-like.
“I’m right here.” Something landed on my arm. I turned.
I saw something before me, but it wasn’t Kiema. At least not as I’d come to know her.
She was almost a foot taller than me; a shining ray of bright silvery light outlined her form. Her features were relatively the same if a little elongated on her narrower face. Her hair was a cascade of colors from root to blackened tips.
I looked up at her. Looked into her eyes. “There you are, honey.”
She smiled at me. Laid a hand on my face. “How did you get here?”
“I was still touching you when Lukas pulled his hand away. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to activate your magic.” I turned my face into her palm.
“Saint, you haven’t activated mine. You’ve activated yours. Can’t you see the black thread?” She pointed to something near my shoulder.
I looked down at my own body. Looked all around me. All I saw was green.
I shook my head. “I don’t see anything, Kiema. Just a huge expanse of green, you—even though you look vastly different—and the same old me.”
She chuckled softly. “Saint, sweetheart, you’re a dragon.”
Chapter 11 – Kiema
Oh, there was green everywhere, but it was Saint, not the landscape. His dark brown eyes were a shimmering yellow green gold in here. The dark brown was still evident, but nearer the center surrounding the pupils. The shape of his eye was still the round, almond shape I was familiar with. The pupil, though…that was elongated.
Saint laughed, the sound big enough to rattle my bones. “I’m not a dragon in here, honey. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“I’m feeling great, Saint. Why do you ask?”
One of his reptilian eyes squinted at me. “Because you look like some kind of spirit goddess of old. Your hair is a rainbow of colors until it darkens into black at the ends. And let’s not forget, you think I’m a dragon.”
I looked down at myself. Just regular old Kiema, golden bronze skin, black hair. I looked back up at him. He towered over me in his dragon form.
“You’re saying I don’t look how you remember me?”
He shook his head, the movement of his new snout caused a breeze to shift through my hair.
“Interesting. I wonder if I could send you a mental picture?” I said it out loud, but was talking more to myself.
“How would that work?”
I shook my head, looking up at him. “I’m not really sure. Trial and error is all I’ve got for you.”
He backed up a couple of steps, shaking his head. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, honey.”
“We’re both here, we’re both fine, I don’t see anything in your spirit that needs healing. What are your concerns?”
A small puff of smoke filtered from his nostrils with his huff. “Well, for one…” he trailed off as he watched me.
I buried my laugh. “Yes?”
He glared at me. “Fine, I don’t have anything. But if we try this and something goes wrong, Ransom is going to kill both of us.”
“Um, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re the only other person I’ve met on the spirit plane. I’m not sure Ransom could get to us even if he tried.”
Saint huffed another snort. “Not helping, Kiema.”
I chuckled. “Sorry. Just the truth.” I waited a beat.
He stayed silent.
I lifted my hand into the air, palm out.
He mirrored my motion.
“Okay, since I’m the most familiar with how this particular plane works, let me do the moving. Sound good?”
He nodded, the long whiskers sprouting from his chin tunneling through my hair. I shivered as the delicate sensation raised goosebumps all over my body.
“What? What’s wrong?” He backed up.
“Nothing.” I explained the situation.
His eyes narrow, he stepped up to me, hand raised in the air again.
I took a deep breath, settled my mind, and slid my palm against the middle of the huge dragon claw.
Having no idea what I was doing, but knowing what I wanted to achieve, I began sorting through the different strands of Saint’s spiritual plane. While touching him, I saw him as I saw the other guys in my group. His color triad was the green gold of his scales, a dark brown that reminded me of his eyes, and a kiss of pink that seemed somehow both out of place and perfectly natural for Saint.
The pulsing black thread that I was beginning to believe marked someone as a shifter was right there, almost beckoning me to entwine my own spirit with it. With a smile, I wrapped a tendril from my
own spirit to the fiber of black.
Immediately, I felt as if I were flying great distances but still standing still. My hair fluttered in the breeze moving past me. The black strand of Saint’s shifter soul came to a slow stop.
All around me were doors and walls. Where there weren’t windows in the wall, they were piled high with boxes, like some crafter’s paradise. Not letting go of the shifter’s strand, I called out. “Hello?”
“I’m still here, honey,” Saint called back.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“I’m in a huge dome that is almost completely covered in glass of every color known to man. Where are you?”
I told him. “Do you remember how you got there?” I asked.
“Yeah. You know how you said that Ransom, Asher, and Atlas all have that weird throbbing black thread?”
I felt myself going still, barely breathing—if I even needed oxygen on this plane. “Yes?”
“You have a similar one, but yours looks like it's on fire. When you touched me, the flaming ribbon showed up. At first, it hurt me to touch it, but after it sent a shock up my arm, it settled down into a pleasant heat.”
Something about that niggled at my mind, but I couldn’t grasp it.
I pushed it away for now. “Okay, I’m going to try to send you a mental picture of what you look like to me on the spirit plane. Don’t do anything until I say so. Got it?”
“Copy that, Kiema.”
I wanted to kiss the smile I imagined on his face when he said that. Walking up to one of the windows, I wanted to see if any reflections were possible in this realm.
Huh. Wasn’t expecting that. “Saint, you said I looked like some kind of spirit goddess of old, right?”
“Yes. What’s happening?” I could hear the beginnings of emotion shake through the walls of the room I stood in.
Without understanding why, I reached out and ran my hand up and down the slice of free wall I could see. “No worries, babe. But I think I’m seeing what you were seeing.”
“How?”
I explained what I was doing.
“Give me a second. I’ll see if I can find a window with a good reflection in it.”
“Don’t forget to look up.”
He snorted. “The ceiling is at least fifteen high in here, Ki—”
Saint’s voice stopped like it had been cut off.
“Still believe you’re in your regular body, Saint baby?” I asked, a chuckle in my voice, when he stayed silent.
I continued to run my hand up and down the wall, more like I was petting it than anything else.
“I’m a dragon,” he said.
“Yeah, babe, I know. Congratulations.”
A soft and dreamy rain began falling in the room where I stood. I lifted my hands, catching some of the drops. They were warm against my spirit. “Saint? Honey, you okay?”
“Yes.” The word was short, clipped.
“It’s raining in my room. You sure you’re okay?”
The rain changed from a spring rain to a light drizzle. “Yeah, honey, I’m fine.”
“Okay, meet me back out in your magic place.”
“Magic place?” He laughed. “That sounds like some kind of sexual reference, but I just can’t get it to take shape in my mind.”
I laughed with him as I followed the thread of black back through his inner spiritual world. “That’s true.”
With another gentle jolt, I was standing back in my regular body, same boring light brown skin, same black hair.
A couple moments passed before Saint’s dragon stood before me.
Shimmering on either side of his snout told me he’d been crying. I moved towards him. “Saint, I think the rain in my room was your tears.” I rubbed my hands over his gigantic chest. “Why are you sad?”
His chest expanded under my palms. “Not sad, honey. Overjoyed.” His chin came down and rubbed against my hair.
“You can share that with me, if you want. I won’t judge you.”
A warm breeze ruffled my hair. “If the petting and love I could feel in my soul was you, then I’m pretty sure we shared a bit more than we think.”
I kissed his chest. “I’m glad.”
We stayed in each other’s arms for a while. I was just relishing being able to touch and interact with someone else on this usually lonely plane of existence. He’d brought more than color to this bland world. He’d brought companionship, love, and belonging.
“Do you feel that?” The words rumbled through his chest, causing me to shake slightly with the movement.
“I don’t feel anything abnormal. What’s going on?”
His body trembled, his arms jerking closed around me.
“Saint!” I cried out at the sudden pain.
“Sorry. Sorry, honey.” He let me go, setting me back from him.
The dragon form was shifting rapidly, almost as if fading in and out of focus.
“Saint?” I reached out.
He snarled at me. “Don’t.” He didn’t sound like my sweet, quiet Saint this time.
I backed up.
No longer the round and almond shape of his human eyes, his dark brown and golden green eyes narrowed into vertical slits. His claws, which were about the length of my palm, stretched and curved until they were almost as long as my legs. The scales on his body rippled, like watching wind push through fields of tall grass.
“Saint?” I yelled up at him as he grew another ten to fifteen feet above me.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he blew a ring of fire around me.
“Mine.”
The word seemed to shimmer and solidify in my mind. As I stood inside that fiery circle, I reached out with my heart and whatever mind I had in this realm.
“Saint. Please come back to me.”
“Mine.”
“I’m scared.”
“Kiema. Wake up.” Saint sounded terrified.
“Saint? Where are you?” I looked around. All I could see were the rising flames.
“Kiema” Saint sounded farther and farther away.
I looked up. His dragon form was gone. I couldn’t see his human form either.
Shit, shit, shit.
I performed the ritual to leave the spiritual plane.
Nothing happened.
I tried again, clearing my mind.
One body, one spirit.
One body, one spirit.
One body, one spirit.
Kiema’s body, Kiema’s spirit.
Thank you, Gaia, for this gift.
Kiema’s body, Kiema’s spirit.
I held my breath.
Nothing.
Shit, shit, shit.
I was fucking stuck.
Chapter 12 – Ransom
“How long have they been like this?” I snapped at Lukas.
“At least twenty minutes. I thought he’d let go.” He held his hands up in defense. “I put my hands back on both of them. Nothing was happening, so I took my hands off.” He dusted them twice, raised them in the air.
“Atlas. We’ve got a situation,” I called down the mental line.
“What’s wrong, Ransom? We’re brainstorming how to get Kiema’s magic back.” He sounded pissed as he pushed through the doors to the infirmary.
“I came in after I saw Lukas acting weird. Turns out Saint touched her without Lukas nulling her magic.”
“Fuck.” He rushed to the far side of the exam table. Pushing Lukas out of the way, he read the printout of the machine hooked up to Kiema. “Wait.”
I looked up. Atlas’ brow was scrunched. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She should be awake. All of her vitals are normal, her temperature. Her O2 count. Her skin and lips look full and plump.” He reached out.
“Wait.” Lukas jumped forward, grabbed Kiema’s leg.
Atlas glared at the other man. He pinched Kiema’s lower lip between his thumb and index finger. “She should be waking up.”
He moved from examining
Kiema to studying Saint.
I looked down at the man next to my left hip. Except for his red cheeks and a fine mist covering his skin, he looked normal.
Atlas made a noise in the back of his throat. I looked up. Took the thermometer from his hands.
“Hold it to his temple. Hit the button.”
I followed Atlas’ directions. The unit beeped after a short time. My stomach plunged to my toes as my gorge tried to rise.
“What does it say, Ransom?” Atlas demanded.
“121.2”
“No way. You must have hit the wrong button.” He came around the table, pushed me out of the way.
I looked down to where Saint was still holding Kiema’s hand. The skin was a dark red, like a sunburn that had gotten sunburned again before healing all the way.
“Atlas.” I pointed to their linked hands.
The doctor’s bright green eyes widened. The beep of the thermometer interrupted whatever he was going to say. “124.4 and rising.”
“What do we do?” Lukas asked.
“We need to unlink them. It could be that Saint’s inherent magic is keeping Kiema from coming back to us.”
Lukas moved, the muscles of his arm bunching.
“Wait.” Atlas stopped the other man. “Did you notice any difference when you took your hands off them the first time?”
I lifted my eyes and glared at the red head. He was turning out to be a detriment to the functioning of our group.
Lukas’ crystalline blue eyes went wide. “I felt a flux of power, but I thought that was you guys outside.”
“Shit.” Atlas rubbed a hand over his face. “If we assume the power was either Kiema or Saint, I don’t know what unlinking them will do.” He glared at Lukas. “You keep your hands on both of them until I say so.”
“Could I get a chair at least?” he asked.
I pushed over the last rolling seat. Lukas hooked the leg with his ankle. He moved it over and slid his ass onto it.
The lights overhead flashed red twice before the sirens rent the air with the shrieks of the temperature alarms.
I looked over at Atlas. He was staring at Saint, his brow furrowed.
“Think it’s them?” I asked as I stepped back over.
