Page 15

CHAPTER 15

“I ’ve texted you the list,” Elora told Cece as the curvy blonde pulled on her jacket. “Charissa will meet you at the shop, okay?”

“Okay,” Cece said. “I’ll grab the spell book and supplies from your place first, hit the potion store, and be back soon.”

“I’ll go with you,” Kaida said.

Cece gave her a grateful look. “Thank you, Kaida.”

The dragoness kissed Bren before she and Cece left. Elora smiled faintly at Bren. It turned out that they were only a fifteen minute walk from Kaida’s clan and their community in the woods. Bren quickly took control of the situation, and within five minutes, the three of them were in the back of Bren’s car. They’d headed straight for Jonah’s house, with only one quick stop to get Cece’s car still parked on Hunt Road.

She might have been four months pregnant, but Kaida was ridiculously strong. She helped Bren carry Jonah into the house and upstairs to the room Elora assumed was his bedroom. Jonah had a mansion with expensive art and furnishings, but it was utterly devoid of personality.

Jonah had passed out the minute Bones and Valas lifted him and hadn’t regained consciousness since. Worry gnawed at her stomach as Bren said, “He needs to go to the hospital, Elora.”

“I told you, he can’t. As soon as they realize what he is, he’ll be in danger,” Elora said.

“Fuck.” Bren scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Will these healing potions really help him?”

“Yes,” Elora said, “but…”

“What?” Bren asked.

She took a deep breath. “Your phoenix friend, the one who helped when Tori and Judd were trying to stop that crazy antelope shifter from sterilizing half the city… could you call him?”

“Ronin is on holiday in New Zealand with his mate Kat and Kat’s sister and husband,” Bren said. “He won’t be back for a couple more weeks.”

“Shit,” she said. “Okay, well, even if he were willing to come home early, the travel time to get back here would make it mostly pointless.”

“Right, travel time,” Bren said.

She suddenly wished like hell that Sarina wasn’t off the grid. If Elora knew where she was, she could ask her to talk to her teleporter friend. Ask him to zap himself to New Zealand, pick up Ronin and bring him here to heal Jonah.

She sighed inwardly. She was being stupid. Both the phoenix and the teleporter did everything they could to keep their abilities concealed. Asking either of them to help some random guy they didn’t know was ridiculous.

Elora glanced at Bren, confused by the guilt that radiated from his face. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Bren looked away before abruptly saying, “Is Jonah dying, Elora? Is Ronin his only chance?”

“No,” Elora said quickly. “He isn’t dying, I just… I hate seeing him in pain, you know? And I happen to know someone who can heal him quickly, but even if Ronin wasn’t away, I also know how imperative it is that his abilities are kept secret and how dangerous it is for him the more people who find out.”

She took Bren’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “Sorry, it was a dick move on my part to ask you for Ronin’s help. I’m just worried about Jonah and don’t want him to be in pain.”

“I know,” Bren said, “but the healing potions will help, and if they don’t, I promise to get Ronin here as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “Thank you, Bren. I love you, buddy.”

“I love you too, Elora.”

* * *

Everything hurt.

Jonah didn’t want to wake up. He wanted to stay in the blissful peace of the dark, but the pain wouldn’t let him. It clawed at his insides, sending agony shrieking down his back, through his skull, and along his ribs.

He inhaled deeply, smelling incense, candle wax, flowers, and Elora’s sweet scent. He smiled despite the pain. He was back in Elora’s home, and a wave of gratitude washed over him.

The gratitude disappeared when he was turned on his uninjured side, and cool air washed over his throbbing back. He groaned, his stomach churning so much he could barely hold back the urge to vomit.

“Hurts,” he groaned. “Please.”

“I know, honey,” Elora’s voice soothed, “but we need to rinse your back again before we apply the paste. Cece, can you hold him steady?”

The bed dipped, and he forced his eyelids up, staring at a blurry Cece who knelt on the bed beside him. Her warm hands pressed lightly against his shoulder as she urged him to lean into her.

“Hey, big guy,” she said.

“Hi, Cece,” he croaked out. “Where’s Elora?”

“I’m right here.” Elora leaned over him and smoothed his hair back from his sweaty face. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” he lied.

She rolled her eyes. “Now is not the time to play tough guy, Jonah. I need to know what hurts.”

“Everything,” he said, “but my back and head are the worst.”

Her soft hand soothed across his forehead again, tracing the wound left from the poisonous thorn liquid. “Can you drink this? It will taste bad, but it’ll help dull the pain.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Cece, help me sit him up,” Elora said.

Moving slowly, they eased him into a sitting position, but it sent scorching pain across his ribs, and he barked out a curse. “I can’t sit up, not with my rib… fuck, that hurts.”

“Okay, hold on, Jonah,” Elora said. “Cece, can you light the dark blue candle and bring me the spell book? Jonah, drink this now, please.”

She sounded calm and confident, and it helped ease some of Jonah’s fear and even a little of the pain. She pressed a cup to his lips, and he drank the bitter clear liquid. Elora took the cup away, and he gagged, his gorge rising.

“Don’t throw up,” Elora said sharply. “Take some deep breaths, Jonah.”

“Can’t,” he said, hating how petulant he sounded. “I have a broken fucking rib, remember?”

“I know,” she said as Cece returned and handed her a spell book. Elora quickly flipped through it before setting it on the bed beside her and studying the page.

“How is the pain?” she asked.

To his surprise, it had already faded a bit. Enough for him to think more clearly and remain sitting up, anyway.

“Better,” he said.

“Good,” she said. “But what I’m about to do is really going to hurt.”

“Take my hand, Jonah,” Cece said. He gripped her hand with his good one, taking short, shallow breaths.

Elora pressed her hands against Jonah’s ribs and recited the incantation from the book, her soft voice rising and falling in a rhythmic chant before she said, “By my power, flame and flower, turn what is broken whole again.”

Pain crackled through his ribs, and he squeezed Cece’s hand. She winced but didn’t shake loose, giving him an encouraging look as she cupped the back of his neck and squeezed lightly. “You’re okay.”

“By my power, flame and flower, turn what is broken whole again,” Elora repeated, her voice rising. Her hands glowed a stunningly bright blue, and Jonah cried out when another stab of pain rocketed across his side.

“By my power, flame and flower, turn what is broken whole again,” Elora shouted, her hands hot coals against his skin.

Jonah screamed as vicious pain erupted across his ribs for an eternity filled five seconds. It ended as abruptly as it started, and gasping, he stared wide-eyed at Elora as the blue light faded from her hands.

As always, when she performed magic, there was a look of delight on her face, and she couldn’t hide the glee in her voice when she said, “Better?”

He released Cece’s hand and pressed on his ribs, poking and prodding and marveling at the lack of pain before nodding. “I think it’s healed completely.”

“Good,” she said. “Now, we need to rinse your back, and it’s -”

“Going to hurt,” he said.

She smiled and stroked his cheek. “Yes. But the wounds are still oozing that toxic shit, and we need to rinse as much off as we can before we apply the paste.”

“Okay,” he said. He was suddenly exhausted again, and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, but he forced himself to stay upright in the bed as Cece brought over a big basin of water and Elora spread towels on the bed behind him.

Elora kissed his cheek and dipped her hand into the basin, picking up the cloth that was soaking in it. “Ready, Jonah?”

He nodded and gritted his teeth. “Yeah, do it.”

* * *

“Well, there are two other bedrooms that look similar to this one,” Cece announced as she walked into the room. “Are you sure this is Jonah’s room?”

“Yes,” Elora said. “I snooped in the closet, and it has clothes in it, and there’s this.”

She picked up the picture frame sitting on the nightstand next to a paperback as Cece joined her and looked over her shoulder.

It was a picture of a happy looking Jonah and a smiling man with brown skin, cornrows, and beautiful dark brown eyes. Their arms were slung around each other, and they stood in front of a silver BMW with one of those novelty giant red bows on top of the hood.

“That must be his brother, yeah?” Cece said.

Elora nodded. “I think so. God, I hope he’s okay and the fae didn’t hurt him.”

“They don’t usually hurt humans,” Cece said. “They just mess with them for a while and then release them.”

Elora set the picture frame back on the nightstand before staring at Jonah in the bed. He was lying on his side and sleeping deeply, his face pale and sweaty in the dim light from the bedside lamp.

“They didn’t just mess with Jonah,” Elora said. She smoothed Jonah’s hair back from his face again and studied the paste she’d applied to his forehead. The smell of the paste - a combination of vanilla, herbs, and anise - strengthened when she pulled back the sheet and the quilt to check his back. It was coated in the thick green paste, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she couldn’t see any pus oozing from under it.

Cece put her arm around Elora and squeezed her tight. “He’ll be okay, honey. The paste will draw out the toxins from the thorns and help heal the wound on the back of his skull. Tomorrow, I’ll make a fresh paste for his back, and you can work on finding a spell to heal his broken hand.”

Elora had tried to use the same spell she’d healed his ribs with to heal his hand, but it hadn’t worked. It happened sometimes. A spell worked for one injury but not another, and it was frustrating as hell. She had found a different spell online she thought would work, but she needed her candles and ingredients, which were at her apartment, and she was exhausted. Driving to get them now was not a solution. She’d be lucky if she didn’t fall asleep at the wheel.

Elora leaned against Cece’s solid warmth. “Thank you for helping him, Cece. I know the paste was complicated to make, and I appreciate you doing it. It definitely needed a green witch, and it wouldn’t have been nearly as effective if I’d tried to make it.”

“Of course.” Cece squeezed her again. “I’ll start making the fresh one as soon as I finish my shift at work.”

Elora glanced at her phone. “Christ, it’s three in the morning. You’ll be exhausted for your work shift today.”

“I’ll survive,” Cece said, “but I am going to crash here if you’re good with it. It’s not like Jonah doesn’t have enough spare bedrooms in this place.”

“I absolutely do not want you driving now. Grab a bed and get some rest, honey,” Elora said.

“Are you staying here with Jonah?” Cece asked.

“Yes,” Elora said. “He probably won’t wake up until later, but I don’t want him to be alone if he does wake up and need something in the next few hours. I just hope I don’t recite spells in my sleep and light his damn house on fire. I’m too beat to even attempt a fireproof spell on Jonah’s room.”

Cece hugged her hard. “You won’t.”

“I hope not,” she said morosely before returning Cece’s hug. “Good night, Cece. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.” Cece left, and Elora grabbed one of Jonah’s t-shirts and stripped off her bloody, pus-soaked clothes. She had a quick shower in the attached bathroom, which was bigger than her entire bedroom, and slipped Jonah’s shirt over her head before brushing her teeth with a new toothbrush she found in the cabinet under the sink.

She crawled into the bed next to Jonah, shutting off the light and listening to the steady sound of his breathing. When he made a soft groan in his sleep, she squirmed closer, letting her body press against his.

“You’re okay, Jonah,” she whispered. “You’re safe.”

“Hmm,” he mumbled before slinging his arm over her waist. “Night, baby.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered, pressing a kiss against his mouth.