Page 47 of Liminal

He needs more. Tonics to reverse the damage to his organs. Spells to fix his obvious undernourishment, to reverse the effects of years of imprisonment. But right now, I focus on the more immediate dangers. Besides, restoration magic is taxing, and if the Carltons will be coming after him, I don’t want to pull on the Arcanaeum’s reserves more than I have to.

The building recharges, just like any other arcanist would if they were depleted; but it’s more prudent to use alchemy where I can.

“Riviel treame,” I murmur.

Parts of his body light up, an intrinsic knowing accompanying each glowing injury. Liver and kidney damageas a result of regular forced exposure to potent alchemical ingredients. His organs are bruised, his mind shady with the darkness of trauma. His heart is enlarged, likely a result of prolonged stress, and there’s a hint of jaundice, vitamin and mineral deficiencies, and other issues caused by chronic undernourishment.

I turn to Dakari, still bleeding all over the leather armchair and staring at me intently.

“He’s stable, but I’ll keep him unconscious until I’ve healed the long-term damage. I’d like to see to your burns now, if you’ll allow me.”

His chin dips, and I float closer.

“Don’t touch me,” I warn, adding, “please,” as an afterthought.

Another softer chin dip.

“Hiel dirmos.”

Unlike my other patient, Dakari doesn’t have the mercy of being asleep to mute his pain as his skin begins to rejuvenate beneath my palm. He grunts, gripping the arm of the chair with white knuckles as I work.

“How can you do this?” he asks, finally, voice glazed with pain. “Without a grimoire.”

I stop, the magic halting. “Who says I have no grimoire?”

Resuming, I’m forced to pause again when he continues. “No one has ever seen you use one.”

Because my own, a beautiful purple leather book, has been lost almost as long as Magister Ackland’s, but I keep my mouth shut, lest the Arcanaeum decides to send him after that next. Besides, it’s not like I got to do more than copy out the basic binding runeform on the cover before I was sacrificed.

Humming beneath my breath is barely an answer, but I’m trying to focus, damn him. “Take off your shirt.”

His expressive brows climb higher.

“You’re bleeding,” I explain hastily. “It might need mending.”

He grips the hem and pulls, mouth twisting with pain as the action inevitably jostles whatever wound I’m trying to mend.

“I hate being dead,” I mumble under my breath as the fabric is discarded, revealing the toned lines of muscle across his chest.

Dakari is just as muscular as Lambert, and now that I’ve healed his arm, the strong lines of him tempt me to touch. Or it would, if touching him wouldn’t hasten my own slow demise.

I sigh under my breath. I’ve always had a weakness for pretty eyes and attractive arms. Apparently, we can add sculpted abs and pectorals to that list.

Perhaps it’s simply the influx of stupidly attractive men to the Arcanaeum that’s making me miss sex this much. Perhaps it’s simply another useless bout of moping on my part. Either way, I wish this view wasn’t wasted on me.

Dakari coughs, and I’m so glad for my inability to blush when I glance up and find him staring at me with those black eyes of his and one lazily cocked brow.

Darting my gaze back to his chest, I grimace at the long, frostbitten cut along his side. I check to make sure he’s still not at risk of moving before bending over him and murmuring more incantations.

When I finish and pull back, there’s nothing but unbroken, warm brown skin there. Trying to reclaim a modicum of professionalism, I skirt my gaze up and down his body, searching for injuries I might’ve missed.

“Anything else…” I trail off, my eyes catching at the bulge just below his waistline.

Turning away sharply is the only way to stop him from seeing how my brows rise in response.

My, thatisimpressive.

“You’re both welcome to stay as long as you need.” Is my voice really that husky? “If the Carltons cause trouble, pleaseleave it to me. My only rule is that you must refrain from leaving your room between the hours of eleven at night and opening time in the morning. There’s a shower back the way you came on the first floor.” I had to install those when Lambert started turning up fresh from practice. “Take care with the mist. The Arcanaeum…”