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Jack’s head swam. He couldn’t even stare at the ceiling without feeling nauseous. Several weeks had passed since he’d taken spell damage, and there was still no sign of significant improvement. He groaned and managed to lever himself into a sitting position. His stomach protested, but not enough to deter him.

“What are you doing?” Ashley demanded, glowering at him over his glasses from where he’d been sitting by the side of the bed.

Jack groaned. He’d been at Crofton Hall since a barrage of curses had hit him during a rescue mission. His best friend had turned into a demented wet nurse, treating him as if he were about to turn to dust at any moment.

“Sitting up. I was getting uncomfortable.”

Ashley tutted. “You should have asked. I would’ve helped.”

He wasn’t completely useless; he tired easily, and his magic was out of whack. He’d managed to set a couple of wards, although they were as weak as fuck, but he could fucking sit up on his own. Or at least he thought he could.

“If you want to be helpful, you could get me some water, then sod off. I’m sure you mentioned you were meant to be at a meeting about research funding for a new project. I’d hate to see you lose out on a grant to add extra sparkly bits to green slime.”

Ashley huffed but poured him a glass of water. “The topic is bioluminescence and mimicking nature with magic, but that meeting’s not for a while. Stop trying to get rid of me.”

“I’m not. I just don’t want you to feel that you have to be in here with me every spare minute you get.” He hated being a burden. He wasn’t in the best of moods and could be a crotchety arsehole when tired and in pain.

“I don’t think I have to. Just accept I like keeping you company. Ben will be asleep for a few more hours, and I might as well spend those with you. Anyway, I have some news.”

Ben’s vampiric nature had caused fewer issues than Jack had predicted. Ashley had always preferred to keep late hours, so it hadn’t been too much upheaval to be more nocturnal now things had gotten serious between him and the Dark Earl of Crofton.

“News?”

“The healer I mentioned, she’s been in touch.”

Jack hadn’t been convinced by the latest in a long list of leads they’d tried, but Ashley had said he’d worked with her a while back, and it would be worth a try. The previous one had been an idiot, and Jack hadn’t been shy to tell him so, the knob had been lucky Jack’s magic was too out of kilter to have blasted him through a continuously looping portal. “And?”

“She’s on her way. I think you’ll be a professional challenge to her, and we both know that can be worked to our advantage.”

“Or be a cataclysmic clusterfuck.” Jack had as much experience of the negative side of the coin as the positive.

“That’s not the attitude I’m used to from the Jack Webb I know and love. You’ll see—it’ll be great.”

He suspected there wasn’t much that would be able to accelerate his healing, and it would boil down to it being a matter of time and not trying to go too fast. The trouble was, he wasn’t any good at being patient, and he wanted results now . Due to his connection to the Warlock Ruling Committee, there were a lot of resources being ploughed in his direction in order to get him back up and running, almost as if it were a matter of pride for the warlocks to prove they could look after one of their own.

“I’m willing to give it a try. Does she know about my scales issue?”

His siren heritage on his grandmother’s side had brought him many complications in life. He’d had a bad scales breakout at the beginning of his recovery, and almost a quarter of his body had been covered by the little teal bastards, but now he had a stubborn outcrop over his belly button and a few other places.

“I haven’t told her. I know you gatekeep your personal information carefully, and for good reason.”

He was glad Ashley respected his privacy, but he would think any healer worth their salt would figure him out pretty sharpish. “Let’s see if she spots it.”

There was no way a competent healer wouldn’t identify that he wasn’t pure warlock; she might not catch the siren heritage out of the blocks, but she should realise that there was something creature-like about him.

Ashley sodded off, and Jack settled down to a comfortable doze only to be woken by someone standing over his bed. Her features were pointed, made worse by the way her hair was scraped back into a tight bun. “Jack Webb?” she asked, her tone as pointed as her appearance.

“Yes. And you are?”

He saw she was on her own, and wondered how she had got through his wards without them not alerting him. “Healer Meredith Byan. Senior Warlock Niven should have informed you of my visit.”

“I was told you were coming, not exactly when.” He struggled to sit up, and she continued to glower at him. “Is Ashley with you?”

“I don’t need a keeper, Mr Webb.”

“But how did you get through my wards unnoticed?”

She tutted. “They are weak and unimpressive.”

“That doesn’t answer how you got through mine!” Standing behind her was Alex, Ben’s elf secretary, who was a great bloke and evil bastard cohabiting in a tailored suit. “You are in a private dwelling.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I am on Warlock Ruling Committee business.”

“The WRC has no jurisdiction here. This property is owned by the Dark Earl of Crofton, and he is a member of the Vampire Council.”

“But Jack Webb is a warlock. It is him I am visiting.”

Jack didn’t know Alex well, but he didn’t think Meredith’s approach would be the way to get him to accept her presence. “I reiterate, this is a vampire property, Mr Webb is a guest, not the property owner.”

She didn’t look happy but probably knew she was in the wrong. “I have emergency ward overrides that I am legally allowed to use.”

“In a medical emergency. Which this is not,” insisted Alex.

Jack didn’t want an argument, and Meredith might be able to help. “I know she’s broken protocol, but maybe if you stay and ensure you’re happy with her deportment going further it would be okay?”

Alex was aware of Jack’s issues and had been a bit pissed off he’d not been able to help. “Very well. But any future visits must be arranged through me.”

She smiled tightly but didn’t agree and turned her attention back to Jack. “I was informed you took the brunt of a general power destabilising spell during a WRC rescue mission.”

“Correct, but it was also disruptive and had an echo component—the caster of that was a lich. I think the combination has caused the issue.”

“How long has it been?” she asked, her interest piqued.

Jack had to organise his thoughts. “About eight weeks, a bit longer maybe.”

“What improvement have you seen?” She was running through the standard questions, as to be expected.

“It depends on how tired I am. After a good rest, I feel reasonable, not brilliant, but I tire quickly, and my magic is erratic.”

“May I lay a hand on you? I’ve worked on similar cases, and it’s pivotal to unpick all the possibilities.”

“Go ahead.” If she hadn’t made the request he’d have been surprised as contact was the quickest way to get the lay of the land.

She placed her hand on his forearm. Her touch was cold, and he thought her bedside manner needed work. Her magic was prickly and borderline rude as it lumbered through him. He’d never been a fan of healers and, where possible, had looked after his own health needs as much as he could.

He saw her flinch, and she let out a hiss before removing her hand. “You are misaligned.”

“I could have told you that,” he said, trying to keep the contempt from his voice. “What I need is someone to bring me back into sync.”

“Were you ever fully aligned to begin with?”

“What do you mean?”

Her nostrils flared. “Your nature… it is not… right.”

Jack should’ve realised she’d be no better than the rest. “My ancestry is what it is. I can’t be right or wrong. I am who I am.”

She bristled at his reply. “Whatever the sentiments, your alternative nature is impeding your recovery.”

He’d expected as much. “There’s not much I can do about my nature, what I need is for someone to help me recover despite it.”

“Your siren genetics are not something I have experience with. Your kind are often not considered worth saving.”

Something else he knew, but he didn’t want to hear it. “I have made significant contributions to the Warlock Ruling Committee and society in general over the years, I think they would consider me useful enough to save.”

She clicked her tongue. “What I meant was that there is limited research on your physiology available to even begin. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Nothing new, and few researchers wanted to spend time or effort on sirens. His ancestry meant he would never be deemed worthy if it became public knowledge, and he’d accepted it years ago and didn’t broadcast his true self. “Then you don’t want to help me.”

“It’s not a matter of want, more I can’t see a way to do so from my experience. Perhaps you could channel your erratic magic through an inert vessel, but I’m not sure.”

They’d already tried that, and it had no effect. “Didn’t work. There was no negative effect, but there wasn’t an improvement either.”

“Given you’re not able to help Mr Webb, I suggest you leave,” Alex said. He looked as if he’d enjoy kicking her out if she put up a fight.

“I didn’t say I couldn’t, just that I had no direct experience.” Jack had met plenty like her who hated having their competency challenged.

“It didn’t sound like that to me,” Alex said.

“I don’t answer to elves.” She turned back to Jack. “If you permit me, I will try a deep dive to your basal magic levels, but I will need to cradle your head.”

Jack hadn’t anything to lose. “Fine. My scalp has been a bit sensitive.”

He had horrible dandruff, which wasn’t uncommon when he was having issues with his scales.

“I’ve seen worse, don’t worry.” She sat on the edge of the bed and reached out, sliding her fingers into his hair and cupping the base of his skull.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think how her fingers felt like tendrils of ice. Her magic wasn’t compatible with his, and he had to stop the bile creeping up his throat as his magic rebelled at this new intrusion. The lack of alignment, coupled with her power, made his head swim, and he couldn’t contain his nausea.

Jack managed to push her away in time to stop her from getting covered in vomit, and Alex was quick to banish the mess.

Meredith retreated to the end of the bed. “I’m sorry, and I hate to admit this, but there’s nothing I can do to help you. Your magic isn’t even happy with me running a diagnostic. I do feel some additional negative energy in this room, which might not be helping.”

He collapsed back onto his pillow, he was tired and wanted to be left alone. “I need to sleep.”

Alex took hold of Meredith by the elbow. “Thank you for coming, but it’s time for you to leave.”

She didn’t argue and let Alex escort her out. Jack closed his eyes and let the silence wash over him. He’d hadn’t got his hopes up, and had been right not to, but another avenue had been fruitless, and they were no closer to healing him. For now, he would just need to be patient, he didn’t have any other option.