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It’s hard to tell in the darkness, but my right leg looks twisted at all the wrong angles. And my back…

I pinch my eyes shut and swallow down my rising sickness.

Legs are broken. One is…it’s a compound fracture—I can see my bone.

Between the pain and the knowledge, I nearly retch, and the only thing that stops me is the sinking awareness that I cannot move. I’m already lying in a pool of what I’m pretty sure is my own blood. I don’t want to add vomit to the mix.

Should’ve just gone with Kane,I think despairingly.

I don’t know what the fuck the shifter has to do with any of this,Memnon says darkly,but I will make sure to skin the dog alive and mount his pelt to my wall at the first chance I get.

This wasn’t…his fault…

Unlesshespiked my drink of course, but I find that incredibly unlikely. That’s the sort of shady, cowardly shit alphas fightagainst.

Never mind about Kane,Memnon commands.I’m going to press my magic into you. Take what you need, and heal yourself as best you can. I’m tracking you right now. I’ll be there soon.

How are you tracking me?I ask dazedly.

Heal those wounds,he says gently.Then I’ll tell you.

Focusing inward, I reach out and try to grab hold of Memnon’s magic. Maybe it’s the pain, or maybe it’s something else, but even grasping it proves to be more difficult than usual. And when I try to shape his power into a spell, it doesn’t respond to my will the way it has in the past.

My breath is coming in faster and faster pants, which is setting my chest ablaze. Broken rib? Punctured lung? Internal bleeding?

I drag my attention away from the pain and focus on my own coiled power. It’s there, living inside me, but now, it’s as though I can no longer channel it.

I cry out in frustration and pain.

It’s not working.

What’s not working?Memnon demands.

My magic—and yours. I can’t use either of them to heal myself.

You…can’t use it?He sounds as though the thought is inconceivable.

Two thousand years ago, when supernaturals were not nearly so unified and our magic not so specialized, something like thiswaslargely inconceivable.

Someone…drugged me…I think.

His fury breaks through our connection, that someone would dare do this to me.

I swear to you,est amage, once you are safe, I will find them, and they will pay.

I think of Olga, who gave me the drink. Olga, who I hadn’t suspected a thing from. I pinch my eyes shut to keep from crying. I wasn’t supposed to trust my coven sisters, but I did.

I was a fool,I admit.I trusted someone I shouldn’t have.

Somewhere in the distance, a car drives by. I’m near a road. That’s…that’s good, I guess.

Trusting people doesn’t make you a fool. Just an optimist. It’s one of the things I love most fiercely about who you are in this life. The world hasn’t broken your faith yet.

Yet.

I think that’s the key word. Because every violent altercation whittles it away little by little.

That might be one of the kindest things you’ve ever said to me,I say.