Page 12 of Lunar Desires (Celestial Magic #2)

RILEY

I popped up into what seemed to be a hospital room of brilliant white with the odd splash of blue tiles, a bright light blazing in the ceiling above the single bed by the window.

Wow. Someone grab me some sunglasses.

Two doctors in blue coats, along with three nurses in their blue scrubs, called out in surprise.

I went down onto my knees, retching again. “Crap…”

“Security!” a man cried.

An alarm went off, its wail an assault on my ears.

“What…” I fell onto my backside. “This is…damn slime.” Dizziness held me in its grip, my poor brain like a spider caught in the pipe of a vacuum cleaner.

I always felt bad for the eight-legged creatures whenever I went at them with the vacuum. I didn’t want to hurt them, but they couldn’t be sitting around freaking me out. It was them or me, especially when it came to the biggies.

What the hell was I thinking about? My God, the slime performed a serious number on my brain.

Okay. Focus. Hospital room. Alarm putting a strain on my eardrums. A bed. A man on the bed fixed to machines going beep, beep, beep.

“Drake!” I cried once it twigged, trying to get upright. I tumbled back onto my arse, letting out a grunt of exasperation. “I’m coming, Drake. I’m?—”

Witchcops stormed the room, quickly manhandling me out of the room and into a gleaming white corridor. They carried me away as I kicked and screamed and puked over a guy, the lights above too bright, my head spinning to the point of making me weep.

“Please…I…I…”

They lifted me into the air, carrying me like I was crowd surfing.

Dark fury passed over me. A temptation to smash their faces into the walls, the floor, the cleaning, through the glass windows of the rooms we passed flooded through me. Watch those skulls crack like eggs, hear them whimper and wail and beg as their blood sprayed the whiteness in red.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Kill them. Destroy them. Teach them not to mess with an Aurora.

I gave up the fight in rejection of those thoughts. My body went so limp they almost dropped me.

“Easy there,” a man said, his voice kind of soothing.

Easy, huh? Easy was a funny word in the context of my new life.

I’d taken to my powers easily, the whole transition from shimmer witch to sacred witch pretty smooth.

But the other stuff dropped boulders in the road.

This bloodlust, this anger, this skirting of arrogance.

How was I supposed to navigate it without becoming the new Uncle Jonathon?

Oh, God. Talk about a horror story. I’d never be like him.

Please don’t let me become him…

There were many perks of my blood. Was this the downside?

I mean, it wasn’t like I was possessed by some dark spirit or anything.

More like a conflict of interest between myself and my destiny.

I knew I had to kill, to fight, to be strong.

It was good to get angry with shades, Uncle Jonathon, and all the bad crap in the world.

And to harbor animosity for the High Coven.

After all, they’d destroyed my family, drove my real mum to kill herself, keeping the truth of my identity hidden until now.

Still, changing into this warrior frustrated me as much as it galvanized me, breeding a massive headache. I felt like an impostor smothered in confusion.

Who was I now? Who did I have to be? And how did I balance it all?

Yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah. How many times would I whine about this? God, why couldn’t I just stop?

Much to my damn annoyance, I started blubbering.

“Is he crying?” a different guy asked.

What was that saying my stepdad used all the time? Ah, yeah. No shit, Sherlock.

I got deposited into a room similar to Drake’s, but smaller and too bright.

Did these lights need to be on?

After changing out of my ruined clothes into a pale blue gown, I climbed onto the bed, reveling in the relief it provided to my weary body.

Phew. Nice to take a load off. The effects of the slime were gone now, but that didn’t mean I’d launch an attack. Oh, no. Not unless I wanted a bullet in my skull.

Heavy fatigue pinned me to the bed anyway. I lay like a starfish with my eyes closed against the brightness, spent from all the sobbing. Clearly at a non-popping distance from Drake.

The man who’d told me to be easy said Drake was in a stable condition. In a coma, but okay. He couldn’t tell me any more.

Relief hit me hard, bringing on more tears.

That’d been an hour ago, after they took my blood, gave me painkillers, a physical checkup, and locked me in this room. Not that I’d be attempting any daring escapes. I was too exhausted, wanting this day to end.

I drifted into a dreamless nap, waking up abruptly to bodies around my bed.

“Who…what…water?”

Someone handed me a bottle of water, the body blurry under the strain of the whiteness.

Wow, my eyes were super hazy, my body needed a lot more than a nap.

“How are you feeling?”

I choked on the water at the sound of the familiar voice, spluttering, making a mess, generally humiliating myself.

“What happened?” Isaac asked, coming closer. “Is the water bad?”

His face seemed to snap into focus the closer he got, his handsome features a welcome sight, a plaster covering the cut on his head my dad had given him after the attack at the mansion.

He offered me this supermodel smile, revealing his pearly whites.

I blinked, rubbing my eyes. “You’re here?”

“Yes, little brother. I know, I sound really calm right now. I’m not. I’m fucking fuming. But I’m rising above it. Keeping a level head.”

“As you should,” Erin answered him, her body blurry behind him.

My head spun again, this whole thing too much.

“Am I dreaming?”

The burn in my throat and nose from the water incident told me I was awake. But I didn’t trust anything, languishing in some crappy in-between place. Hoping for this nightmare adventure in London to end.

I passed out, finally coming to again at nightfall. I felt rested, the bright lights dim. I turned my head toward the window, my eyes fixing on a waxing crescent moon in the night sky.

The glittering lights of the city spread out below it. I must have been pretty high up in the tower to get such a view.

I reached out to the moon, drawing down its energy. Filling up on it.

My magic could be used any time of day, but connecting to the moon helped provide me with magical sustenance. The same applied to Isaac, and to Preston—wherever he might be.

To my surprise, I saw stars. You didn’t often see them in big cities, but there they were. Faint, twinkling gently.

The Star…

I hadn’t met Preston yet. However, it didn’t stop me from worrying about him. Feeling a connection without ever seeing his face.

Be safe, I thought out to him. And come home.

I really hoped Drake would find him one day, his scrying magic suddenly peeling back the layers to locate him.

“Drake!” I yelped, sitting up.

“Fuck!” Isaac barked from the chair beside my bed.

I squeaked, kicking my legs up, untucking the blanket.

Hadn’t seen him sitting there.

“You scared the balls off me,” he declared, getting to his feet.

“Likewise,” I countered, noticing the lack of wires linking me to any drips or monitors.

Isaac regarded me with a pair of blue eyes the same shade as mine, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I healed Drake.”

I sank back into the bed, a blob of jelly. “He’s okay?”

“He’s okay.”

I turned my head to face him, shaking. “Thank you.”

He raked a hand through his stylish brown highlighted hair, which complemented the fair, golden hues of his complexion, and definitely cost him a bomb in some swanky salon.

“All in a day’s work,” he said, batting his eyelashes.

I laughed, enjoying his bravado. “Thank you.” Happiness gave me a pinch on the soul. “Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” he answered around a yawn. “Sorry. Took a nap in this chair after the healing.” He rolled his neck.

His Healing Light power came with a consequence—fatigue.

“Are you okay?” I asked, finding the strength to sit up. He didn’t look tired, his whole image a constant vibe of perfection, even in black gym shorts and a white muscle tee.

Stop it…

Jealously skirted the edges of triggering an episode related to my body dysmorphia. I didn’t need any of that right now.

“I’m good,” he answered. “Been gagging for a brother hug.” He opened his arms. “If you’re up for it.”

I swung my legs off the bed and got to my feet. He stood to let me wrap my arms around him.

God, I’d missed him so much.

He gave me a big squeeze. “Sorry if I stink. I haven’t showered since I used the gym this morning. Blame these fuckers.”

As if he’d stink. His perfume smelled divine, like money and class.

“I’ve been so worried,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I thought…” He broke the hug, stepping back. “They know about us.”

I sat down, my stomach flipping. “Crap. They took my blood.”

Isaac folded his arms. “Took mine too.” Hints of anger glimmered in his eyes.

“They’re grilling Erin again. Haven’t spoken to me yet, seeing as they want us together.

” Unfolding his arms, he sighed. “And this happened.” He held up his hands, showing me the blue symbols on his hands in the shape of suns, glittering like my crescent moons.

“Wow…” I held up mine.

He leaned forward to look. “The witchcops seem to think you killed a load of shades. True death. Turned them to ash.”

I explained what’d happened.

“Whoa.” He folded his arms again. “I can do it, too?”

“Didn’t you feel anything?”

“Other than itching and pain? Nope. Maybe it was a collective upgrade.” He smiled. “Good to know we can blast those fuckers to hell.” The smile dropped. “A shame these lot have shit on our parade, though.” He sighed again. “We’re fucked.”

I gnawed on my bottom lip. “Don’t say that.”