Page 11 of Icy Heart, Empty Chest

“ D amien!” I shrieked.

He rolled on his back, breathing heavily. “Get me inside, would you? That was a lot of exertion.”

“That you brought on yourself!” I snapped. A fire rushed through me. Dumb-ass horse, what was he thinking? He didn’t have a working heart and he was pushing his luck as is! If this bullshit didn’t end up killing him, I definitely would.

I knelt and put his arm over my shoulder, pushing off the pavement.

Gods he was heavy and I really needed to go back to the gym.

He helped me walk him slowly up the steps and in, choosing to sprawl on my rug in the living room area.

His hand went to his chest and he grimaced.

I knelt at his side, glancing down at his sweaty form.

“Dae, what’s going on? Are you having chest pain?” I was immediately nervous, the rage replaced with anxiety at the visual of him holding his chest in obvious discomfort.

“Horse form doesn’t like that I don’t have a heart to pump the blood,” he wheezed out.

I bit back a stream of angry statements about irresponsibility. He opened his eyes slightly and gave me a small self-satisfied grin.

“It felt so good to run again though.”

“I bet.” Some mild sarcasm there.

“You got any healing juice left in there?” he asked, looking pale.

“Me?” I was incredulous. I wasn’t kidding when I said I hadn’t done more than burns or cuts recently.

“No, your cat.” He could still form sarcasm, that was good, I think. I don’t even have a cat.

“You can’t be serious, Damien.”

“Not really the time to joke, Cor.”

“I really haven’t done anything in a while. I do not think I am the best candidate for this,” I answered quietly.

“Cor. I told you I needed your help and your skills. Please?” He had a nauseated look on his face.

“Fine.” I rolled up his shirt and took off my coat. I had started sweating and my deodorant could definitely use an extra few coats. Also, if he puked on my rug, I would have to get it professionally cleaned.

I let out a deep breath and rubbed my hands together, feeling the magic starting to well there. It took a second. My magic wasn’t used to me calling on it. My eyes were closed but my fingers should be emanating a periwinkle blue light. Assuming this was working.

I opened them and gingerly placed both hands on either side of his spell scar.

Closed my eyes again and pushed the magic in.

I could feel it streaming out through my hands and into him, feeling cool, soothing.

Think icy, peppermint, the first flakes of snow, aloe vera on a burn.

After a minute I was starting to feel prickles on my hands which means I was getting close to my reserves.

I kept pushing though. I didn’t know how much he needed and I wasn’t going to undershoot.

A shock passed through my hands and I jolted, balancing on my side to stay upright. Ugh. Oh no.

“Better?” I asked, with my head spinning.

“Yeah. No pain.” His face was back to normal color, the spacey look had left his eyes.

“OK. Good.” On the other hand, I was not quite as good. I was, in fact, nauseated with a shooting headache.

I took my hand out from his chest and lay back on the soft rug near his face. Fuck I am out of practice with that. I feel immensely unwell.

“Please don’t ask me to do that again for a while,” I said quietly, eyes closed against the light.

He sat up. “Are you OK?” Concern flew to his face.

“Magic, as you know, takes energy. Healing, for the unpracticed, can take a lot of energy. I’m going to lie down here for a bit, at least so the world stops spinning.” I flexed my fingers in the shag rug, trying to focus on one thing.

“Cora, why did you go that hard?” There was an edge of rebuke in his tone.

“I wasn’t going to risk your chest cavity exploding like a horror film,” I shot back shakily. I could feel the sweat running down my forehead.

“I guess it was pretty stupid to run. I just missed doing it. I’ve kept the exertion pretty low recently.” He sounded remorseful. “I wanted you to remember horse form.”

“Hard to forget a giant green horsey. I’m not going to rub it in, only ’cause it takes too much energy,” I breathed. “But this isn’t over. Yell later.”

“It was stupid, I know.” Pure remorse. I got the feeling that had nothing to do with his heart.

“Didn’t you used to run to work off frustration?” I can’t believe I still remembered that.

“Yup.”

“I guess for someone who didn’t have most emotions till recently, you haven’t had to use coping mechanisms.”

I closed my eyes and felt him move next to me, scooping me into his arms. I gasped slightly at the sudden change in altitude but I didn’t open my eyes. I was worried that if I did, the blurring in my eyes would set off a chain reaction of losing my lunch.

He moved me to the couch and pulled a blanket down on me, then walked to the kitchen. I felt a cold glass press into my hand and I eagerly downed it.

The post magic hangover is real. Real healers can do this all day and go home a bit winded. I hadn’t really had to access energy like that in a bit. I cracked my eyes, glaring at him as much as I could, given my current less-than-scary state.

“Please don’t strain yourself,” I asked. “Please don’t undo my work ’cause I cannot do that again.” What I didn’t add would be how hard I would kick his ass if he did that again in the next few days.

“I feel like I could run a marathon right now. Whatever you did just juiced me up. And I told you, your skinny ass isn’t heavy.” A slight smile graced his face.

“That’s what every girl wants to hear,” I breathed. My eyes were still closed to avoid the spinning of the overhead lights, and I was hunched in a ball to fight off the cold sweats.

He snorted, putting a hand on my head.

I put the glass down, then closed my eyes again.

The next time I opened them, it was 7am the next morning and the sun was beating through my window into my eyes.

I started and jumped up, peeling back the blanket. My magic happily blinked back at me from within. I was at home. It was morning. Why was I on the couch again? Oh wait. Damien. Bad things happen when certain limits are pushed.

His coat was still here but where was he? I stopped in the kitchen to refill the water glass and chugged it again.

I stopped at my bedroom. He was in my bed, shirtless and sound asleep. Well. OK then. Slightly intrusive horsey.

I padded to my drawers quietly and took out a new set of clothes, making a beeline to the bathroom. A hot shower on top of a full night’s rest can do wonders.

One very hot shower later, I was dressed and fresh-smelling.

I pushed a button on the coffee maker and took out the eggs, bread and bacon and got to work. At eight, when the French toast was ready, I walked to my own door and knocked soundly.

He opened a groggy eye.

“I’ve got coffee?”

He nodded and threw back the covers, hastily pulling on his pants from yesterday to cover his boxers.

I gestured to the plate on the table. Bacon and French toast with a nice dark roast.

I had my feet up in the adjacent chair, sipping my magic bean juice with some milk. He wandered in and gave the food an appreciative look.

“I don’t think I’ve had a homemade breakfast in years.” He started ripping into the food.

My eyes bugged slightly. “I’m no professional chef but this leads me to ask what you eat at home?”

“Usually some sort frozen breakfast sandwich?”

“You don’t really cook for yourself.” It was less a question and more like a statement of incredulity.

“Why do you think I have to get coffee every morning? I have a maker in a box but never turned it on.” He started munching through the bacon like it’d run away.

“You go to see my beautiful elven coworker and cause our cold brew is amazing,” I said smugly. It was nice to be appreciated.

He groaned and looked at me with a slightly disquieted gaze. “Oh that again. She’s cute but I’m all set.”

I looked at his plate and all the contents had disappeared.

“Do you have any more?” he asked a bit guiltily. I looked at him with a touch of pity. It’d clearly been a while since someone else had cared for him.

I swung my legs over to get the plate. “I’m glad I made extra. I forgot how much you can put away.”

He smiled as I heaped on more.

“Still feel OK today?” I asked as I set the plate down in front of him.

“Better than I have in ages. I think you rebooted the whole system, so to speak.”

He grew more somber. “Thank you though. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. It was reckless.”

I waved him off. “None of that over breakfast. It’s all good. Good to know that the magic’s still in there, actually.” I flexed my fingers, looking down at the faint periwinkle light I could grow. He was now looking at me oddly.

“What?”

“Do you know what I’m going to ask next?” he quizzed.

“How I got the bacon so crispy and delicate?” Typical me, evading.

“Not even close.”

“How you ended up in my bed?”

“You were sick and I didn’t want to leave you alone. Try again, little nymph.”

Again with the old nicknames. I groaned. Feelings and emotions were hard.

“Tell me about your dad,” I decided.

He shrugged out of his chair to get more coffee.

“You got most of it last night actually. After I joined, he treated me more like an employee than a son, checking in on my metrics and testing, show up at drills. He’d make me go to every police meeting, every city council thing, mostly to shake hands and introduce me.

I think he wanted me to head up a department or become a commissioner of some sort.

I always did my best but never really wanted to do the same things as him.

I wanted to help people, not mill around on a dead crime scene where no one was really affected.

I didn’t want to just speed up the ladder. He knew it and hated it.”

He sat down again.