My own will to remove it—to save Alex and remove Indra’s hold over him—was the only thing that kept me going, but even that felt heavy. Slow.
I’d been in it too long and I knew it.
This was so much worse than Mason’s infection. Everywhere I turned, I felt it there, blotting out anything good and anything resembling Alex. It was all hate and evil and then just…nothing. Impassive. Unemotional. But it did have a goal. A desire. It wanted to destroy every werewolf alive. And it wanted to make me suffer in the process.
This was what Indra had intended all along. I still had no idea who or what she really was or how she’d come to be wrapped up in all of this. At least, not beyond Mason’s claims to her heritage and whose side she was obviously on. I still didn’t really know the extent of her powers but it was clear she knew mine. And she’d been gunning for me for a while now. The magical trap she’d set for me here was brutal and cunning and intended to destroy me.
In all reality, it might have succeeded, but as I faced down the ugliness of it, something else inside me rose up. Riding on the tendrils of magic and light that I knew ran from my heart down my veins and out to the edges of my physical form came a different awareness.
The wolves. The wolves.
I’d only ever heard its voice a few times so I wasn’t even sure how I knew this was the same force. But it was her. I knew it like I knew my own name. Like I knew what I was and where I came from. It was the moon goddess. Hina. And she was pissed.
My body surged with new energy and I remembered what Cord had said about not being alone. About Hina, the goddess inside me, being here to help if only I’d call on her. I’d been too stubborn, too afraid of what she might do if I let her out, but now, I understood. She wasn’t something to fear.
She was the missing link between the esoteric magic I was really, truly capable of and my human doubts. The moment I accepted her help, my own sluggishness vanished. After that, the disgusting and cement-like energy that had planted itself in Alex’s psyche became lighter. It was no match for the easy pull of the energy inside me and it began rushing out of Alex’s body and into mine.
The force of it hit me like a tidal wave.
I felt my body blown backward and heard the grunt that escaped me as I was ripped away from Alex’s slumped form as my back hit the opposing wall. My head hit last with a softer thud against the tile, but it wasn’t even close to over. Like a vacuum, my body continued to suck all of the disgusting and damaging magic out of Alex and into me. I was hyper-aware of every pore in my body as they all seemed to suddenly be an entry point for the heavy darkness I pulled from him.
I couldn’t have stopped it if I wanted to.
And despite the heaviness that now weighed me down and the pain that shot through my head and chest, I still wouldn’t have chosen to give it up. Something this bad couldn’t be allowed to linger. Not in Alex and not even in the air inside this house. It had to go. And I was the only possible escape for it.
I prayed the goddess would know how to dispose of it once it was locked inside me. Because I damn sure didn’t want to walk around holding onto it when this was done.
For now, though, I knew I’d taken it from him. Whatever came next, Alex was Alex again. I could feel it. Because when I reached for his aura again, it was clear of the darkness and the murky mess that had gunked up his energy before. All that remained was the kaleidoscope of greens and browns that were distinctly his own. Earth colors. I should have known.
Even the blot containing the stab wound was gone. And I knew that because I had a pulsing pain in my rib that extended outward all the way up to my chest and all the way down to my belly. If I looked, I knew his skin would be clear. Nothing but a scar that would once again match my own.
I sighed and the magic inside me that had fueled me all along began to recede. As if it knew its job was done, it drained away and I could do nothing to cling to it and convince it to stay a second longer. Exhaustion pushed down on me and it was all I could do to remain sitting. In fact, even that seemed like a lot of unnecessary work. My job was done. Sitting wasn’t necessary. I slumped back, half-lying spread out on the floor, half-lounging against the wall.
I forced my eyes opened, wincing at the brightness of the light. Someone knelt in front of me. No, a wall of someones. Breck, Brittany… I leaned around them, searching for Alex.
In the space between Breck’s knee and Brittany’s arm, I found him. He was already studying me, still slumped against the opposite wall where I’d left him. He hadn’t moved but he was awake. The moment our eyes met, I exhaled in relief. His eyes were open. Clear. He lifted his hand from where he’d let it fall over the stab wound, showing me. Even from here I could see the skin had closed and already scarred over. I looked up and caught Alex’s soft smile. I gave him one of my own before my lids fell, too heavy to keep open any longer.
My insides felt full with the disgusting magic I’d basically just ingested. It felt like germs. Like a bad flu I’d fought against and lost. And I knew it would be days before I felt like myself.
But I didn’t care.
Alex was safe. The rest could figure itself out later.
Chapter Twenty-One
Alex
Sam’s lids closed and for a second, panic shook the room. Breck yelled and ran out, ranting about calling for emergency services. Brittany pressed two fingers to Sam’s throat, checking her pulse. With a calm but slightly annoyed glance at me, Brittany rose and followed Breck out. I listened as she assured him that Sam’s reaction was normal after a healing. Especially one this big.
“She’ll be fine in five minutes,” Brittany assured him. “If you want to help her, have water ready.” I listened to the sound of the fridge opening and closing. Then Breck began talking—on the phone from the sounds of it.
I never took my eyes off Sam. Waiting. Hoping Brittany was right.
Sam came out of it in a fit of coughing. For a split second that was more harrowing than anything else I’d been through at Indra’s hands, I was afraid her healing me had done some kind of real and permanent damage. If she came back without the ability to feel like I had…
I couldn’t even imagine it.
I also didn’t miss the bitter irony that the first thing I felt after getting my emotions back was a brutal and heart-wrenching pain at the possibility that I might have messed things up with Sam for good. Or, messed Sam up for good.
There were three things that were top of my priority list now. I wanted to make sure things were good between Sam and I, including that I hadn’t somehow broken her emotions when she’d taken all that black magic from me. Second, try to patch things up with Breck—at least to the point that hopefully he wouldn’t stab me again. And then I wanted to kill Indra.
In that order.
To his credit, Breck returned and was staring at me coolly from just outside the bathroom door. So far, he hadn’t charged at me to try for a second attempt at killing me. Not even after I’d woken and yanked my shirt up, running a quick hand over the scar left by his blade. I already knew Sam would have a scar to match, but I decided not to tell him that just yet.
The moment Sam stopped coughing, I pulled her up and into my arms, holding her against me while she wiped at her eyes and sniffled. Even then, Breck didn’t move toward me and I took that as a good sign.
Brittany returned with a water bottle dangling from one hand. She still wouldn’t meet my eyes as she watched Sam and me from the bathroom door. I knew she was analyzing everything I did or said. That was fine by me. One of these days, I owed her a thank you for all she’d done in protecting Sam when I didn’t. Fear rose up again as I thought about Brittany doing what I’d refused to do. Sam had every right to hate me for that. And she might. I wouldn’t know until I spoke to her. Even then, I had a lot of apologizing to do.
But then Sam opened her eyes and all of my fears were instantly laid to rest the moment her gaze locked on mine. She looked up at me like all that mattered was finding
me here holding her.
I smiled down at her, packing everything into that one smile. Relief, regret, hope, and even the need for vengeance against what she’d just had to go through for me.
“Hey, beautiful,” I said, stroking her hair lightly.
Sam coughed again. “Hey, yourself,” she said lightly which only made me smile wider. As if we didn’t just both almost die on a bathroom floor. That was my girl, though. Unending humor and bravery and strength.
I opened my mouth, ready to begin apologizing for how badly I’d fucked things up, but the sound of the front door opening interrupted me, and then voices began calling Sam’s name. Including RJ sounded frantic and ready to murder something. Or someone. Shit.
The cavalry had arrived.
“We’re in here,” Brittany called without taking her eyes off me and Sam.
I decided to table the apologies until later, and instead, I asked Sam, “Can you sit up?”
Sam nodded, wincing as I helped prop her up. She leaned heavily against the wall at her back. Her skin was pale and clammy and dark circles ringed her eyes. She looked like hell. But so, so beautiful.
Footsteps sounded and within seconds, a flood of other hunters crowded into the doorway with RJ at the front.
“What the hell is going on?” he demanded. “And what is he doing here?”
He shoved into the small room, already overcrowded, and I looked up at him with a snarl. I owed RJ a lot and almost as many apologies as I did Sam, but if he came too close or bothered Sam in any way, I’d have to lay into him. But Brittany jumped between us, putting a hand on his chest to stop him.
“Alex came over to talk and Sam healed him,” Brittany said quickly.
I wasn’t entirely sure why she’d just glazed over things that way. Or why she’d left out the fact that I’d come here to commit murder. But I was glad for it. When she glanced my way, I gave her a subtle nod of thanks.
RJ’s eyes were blazing with barely controlled fury. Brittany’s explanation hadn’t done much to cool his anger toward me. But he had slowed his roll toward Sam. For that, I decided to let Brittany handle it.
I kept my head down and my attention focused solely on Sam. She still sat slumped against the wall, clearly with no intention of getting up any time soon. That worried me. I’d never seen her so drained before.
“Sam?” I asked quietly.
Her eyes found mine but they were glassy and unfocused.
“Yeah?” she asked and I could hear the utter emptiness in that one word.
My heart wrenched in pain. Because ultimately, this was my fault. And it was up to me to make it right as best I could. God, please do not let her be numb like I was.
“I’m going to carry you to bed,” I told her gently.
She gave a wobbly nod and I slipped my arms around her back and knees, hauling her up easily into my arms. She was completely spent and here I stood with enough energy to kill an entire army of werewolves—and the conscience and feeling to know that I wouldn’t if given the chance. This was proof enough that Indra’s magic no longer had a hold on me. Instead, it was clogging up Sam’s organs and veins in a way that I couldn’t bear to think about.
Guilt was like its own slithering magic in my brain, taking up residence in all the empty spaces left behind by Sam’s healing.
I turned to carry her out and was met with a wall of ferocious faces, all of them glaring at me, and most looking like they’d rather do anything than let me pass unharmed. I couldn’t blame them. I deserved their anger—and probably also the stab wound Breck had given me.
But I was me again.
And Alex Channing didn’t cower or grovel. He also didn’t apologize in group settings.
“She needs to rest,” I said, directing my words to RJ who had become the leader of “Operation Protect Sam” in my absence.
He didn’t move and for a second I wondered if he was going to do this with me holding Sam in my arms like a sick animal. He gave me a full-length inspection, sweeping his hard gaze pointedly up and down my body as if to let me know he didn’t trust a single part of me.
Finally, he stepped back and let me pass, his angry gaze boring holes in my back as I went. The feeling continued even after I’d slipped into Sam’s bedroom and they could no longer see me. All except Brittany who hovered in the doorway like a violently obsessed chaperone. I ignored her and kept all my attention on Sam, but I had absolutely no doubt that when I emerged from tucking Sam in, they would all be waiting for me.
Inside the darkened bedroom, I laid Sam gently on her bed, covered her with blankets, and kissed her forehead. She stirred, not even opening her eyes as she reached blindly for me. I knelt beside her, sliding my hand into hers and gripping it tightly.
“Don’t go,” she said on a sleepy sigh.
“I’ll come check on you soon,” I promised.
“No, Alex, I meant… don’t give in to the guilt,” she said and I froze in surprise at how well she’d pegged me. How much had she seen when she’d gone into my head to remove Indra’s death trap?
“I … This is all my fault, Sam. You deserve so much better,” I said honestly, the truth of the words cutting at me like razorblades.
“Mmm, no. I deserve you,” she said and her lips curved. She cracked her eyelids and reached for the hem of her shirt, shoving the blankets aside. I helped her, curious what she was up to, and watched as she yanked her shirt up to reveal the smooth skin of her stomach.
Working on feel alone, her fingers sought out first one scar, given long ago on the day we met, and then another, not far from the first. She ran her fingertip over it and smiled. I reached out tentatively and did the same, pleasure coursing through me as I touched her.
Even when I’d been at Indra’s numbing mercy, I had been terrified I’d never be able to do this again. Touching Sam felt like a life force all its own. I was overcome with gratitude that I was here, doing this now.
“Sam,” I said, my voice hoarse with emotion.
“We match,” she said lazily, her voice barely above a whisper. I looked up at her face in time to see her lips curving crookedly. “Like matching tattoos or something. You can’t leave me now.”
I couldn’t help it, I barked out a laugh that had Sam’s smile widening. She reached for me again, her eyelids drooping in exhaustion. I hugged her, pulling her to me and holding her tight in a silent and physical promise.
There would be time for more promises later. With words.
For now, I knew she could handle only this.
“I’ll see you when you wake up,” I said quietly, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then her forehead.
She finally let go of me, her body relaxing against the mattress. I watched as her head rolled to the side, pressing into the pillow as sleep took her. I was aware of a presence in the doorway but I watched Sam until I knew she was asleep. Finally, I got to my feet and made my way across the bedroom.
I knew what waited for me out there.
Jury and judge and possibly executioner waited impatiently on the other side of that doorway for me to face them. And I planned to. I owed RJ and Edie and Brittany and especially Sam at least that much.
With a heavy heart and guilt that ate at me, my emotional arsenal was completely back intact. Unfortunately, I had a feeling that would only make what was about to happen even worse.
I just hoped their forgiveness was just as unconditional as Sam’s had been. Otherwise, Breck’s attempt to kill me earlier wouldn’t be the last, and this time, Sam wouldn’t be around to save me. My ability to feel might have been restored, but my penchant for screwing people over might have finally caught up with me. And this time, there was no running from my crimes. My head bowed, I trudged slowly toward my own personal judgment day. I was guilty. And now, it was time to pay up.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sam
I woke myself up with a cough that sounded sticky. My lungs felt full of gunk and my chest tight to the point of painful as I attempted to b
reathe through it. When the coughing didn’t subside, I instinctively leaned over the edge of my bed in case anything came up. Nothing did, thankfully, and when I finally quieted, a glass of water appeared in front of my face.
I took it and looked up to see who the large, roughened hand wrapped around the glass actually belonged to. When I caught sight of him, I could only stare, the glass cold where it had come to a stop against my bottom lip.
Breck smiled tightly at me from where he sat beside my bed, relief clearly reflected in his blue eyes. Also reflected just as clearly was a wary sort of nervousness. He was quiet, obviously waiting for me to make the first move.
I gulped some water, buying myself some time.
I took in his military-style pants tucked into scuffed boots. He’d filled out since I’d last seen him, his biceps pressing against the material of his shirt. His face had thinned some, or maybe matured, into a square shape and there were lines around his mouth and eyes that hadn’t been there last time. And he had a scar I’d never seen before along his jawline that had healed crookedly and faded into the light growth of stubble.
But none of that compared to the world-weary look in his eyes. Clearly, my brother was not who I thought he was. In fact, he was someone completely different who’d undoubtedly lived a harder life than I’d ever given him credit for.
A life that clearly didn’t include the human military.
When I’d finished with the water—and a lot of quick decisions about how exactly to approach the fact that my brother was here. In Half Moon. Fighting werewolves, apparently, and stabbing my sort-of boyfriend—I handed the glass back and cleared my throat.
Then I gave a smile that felt half-genuine, half-peace-offering, and leaned forward. “Hey, big brother,” I said softly and held my arms out. “Are you going to get over here and give your sister a hug or what?”
Esperance: (New Adult Paranormal Romance) (Heart Lines Series Book 3) Page 19