Val’s heart lurched. Carefully, she touched Griffin’s cool cheek. He didn’t react, and she shot an anxious look at Stefan.
“Sit here with him,” Stefan said, “just as you were, and we’ll see what happens. This could be some weird thing from the venom in his blood.”
“But you don’t think so?” Her heartbeat roared in her ears, and her entire body ached with the sudden, desperate onrush of hope. She stroked Griffin’s hair back from his brow.
“Just sit with him.”
Stefan reached over her to grab his bag. Holding it so the others couldn’t see, he withdrew his stethoscope and slipped the tips into his ears. His facial expression stayed neutral as he opened the camo shirt and tested different spots on Griffin’s chest.
Val watched him. Maybe she was dreaming. Griffin hadn’t moved, hadn’t drawn a breath, in almost an hour. He couldn’t be alive. She must’ve fallen asleep from exhaustion, imagined all this.
Stefan looked no longer neutral but amazed. “I hear a very, very slow heartbeat. Respiration, too, with the breaths faint and far apart, not enough to lift his chest, but there.”
No. Not possible. It had to be a dream. Any minute, she would wake up and her heart would break all over again.
“Valeria.” Stefan gripped her shoulder. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes. Yes, but…” She couldn’t say it. Saying it might shatter the tiny possibility this was real.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” Stefan said. “If I try to help, I may interfere with something important. We’ll sit here and watch him, see where this goes. I have a garnet healing stone in my bag. I’ll put that over his heart in a few minutes, but I want him stronger before I do that. Only if I think we’re losing him again will I try anything more.”
She nodded. Griffin’s fingers curled loosely around hers, and she bowed her head over their hands, choking back a sob. If this was a dream, if she woke up and he was dead—
“Easy,” Stefan said, his grip on her shoulder offering much needed support. “He seems to be coming back as a mage, or at least a normal human, not a ghoul.” He waited for her to look up at his grim face. “Even if that changes, though, it’s not on you. Understand? I’m his doctor, and I’m responsible now.”
Reluctantly, she nodded. A promise, after all, was a promise.
Faint chirruping sounds, night bugs. A distant creak. Slurping, like a dog drinking. Dim light from somewhere.
Griff turned toward the light. He wanted those sounds, wanted to see what made them, but his eyelids were too heavy. His brain felt mired in mud. He struggled against it, pushing. Reaching.
I’m here, Valeria told him. Her fingers twined with his, warm and firm. Take your time.
So tired. Yet he felt more alert now. Love you.
A muted sound, choked, and her lips brushed over his knuckles. I love you, too. Everything’s all right now, my love.
His brain ratcheted up a notch. Where are we?
Your old room at Hettie’s.
With Magnus on guard. Drinking.
Her chuckle rippled through his mind. He wouldn’t leave you. He spent the afternoon on your bed, bumped up beside you. Sweet humor brushed over Griff, as though she smiled. On the other side from me. He seems to think he has first dibs on you and the bed.
As though summoned by the thought, the dog’s padding tread approached. His tags jingled to Griff’s left. A heavy weight landed on the bed, shifted, probably as the dog did his traditional three-circle tromp. A plopping weight shook the mattress and put something big by Griff’s hip, and a cold, wet nose poked his free hand.
Griff smiled and slid his fingers into the dog’s thick, soft ruff. He’s a guy. He’s territorial.
“Let’s not go there.”
He caught the words more with his ears than his mind. At last, he pushed his eyes open.
Valeria sat beside him. The Tiffany bedside lamp washed rich gold and green over her face, but he couldn’t see her features quite clearly, as though a thin, nearly transparent veil hung over her face.
“Welcome back.” She leaned down to kiss him, her mouth soft and sweet on his.
The kiss warmed his heart but felt muted against his mouth. He slid his hand into the soft, thick hair at her nape and deepened the kiss.
With a sigh, Valeria sank onto him. Their arms slid around each other. Their mouths fused, bodies pressed close.
A long time later, the kiss broke. Valeria nestled against him. He pressed his lips to her temple, but nothing felt right, not her weight against his side, not the softness of her hair against his lips, not the big dog snoring by him. Something had turned down the volume, the intensity, not just in his hearing but in all his senses.
Maybe he needed a recharge. He reached for it, opened himself to the life around the house, the magic it bred.
Nothing came, no sense of anything beyond his body.
What the hell?
“I’m so glad to have you back.” Valeria lifted her head and kissed him lightly. Although she smiled, her lips trembled.
He brushed a finger over her mouth and felt its soft warmth—but not as keenly. Later for that, though. Touching her, he could sense the misery knifing her heart. “What’s wrong, love?”
She caught his hand again. Kissed it. “You don’t remember?”
“Haven’t tried.” With his eyes on her face, he reached back, searching, and got a jumble of images. He pushed himself up in the bed. He’d never been this weak except from battle wounds. Even then, he’d been able to touch the magic.
“Griffin?” Valeria’s brow furrowed.
“Wait.” His father had come, they’d had a hearing, and then—“Fucking bastard Blake.”
“We’ll get him this time.”
“We have to. He can’t get away with this.” He cupped her cheek. So warm, so smooth. Yet, again, muted. “Honey, I know this is hard for you, and I’ll—”
Hard for her. Hard. Heart. Eat her heart.
Memory flooded into the bond. Draining. Rescue. Pain and rage. The agony in her eyes and, now, the guilt tormenting her heart. Aghast, he stared at her.
Valeria shrugged. She tried to smile and failed. Big tears welled in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she choked. “So sorry.”
“No, love.” Fool that he was, he’d laid this on her. Griff jerked her into his arms, and her pain roared through him, searing his chest and throat, writhing in his gut. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
With a shuddering, gasping sob, she slid her arms around his neck. He lay back with her, stroking her, kissing her, while she wept into his shoulder. Loving him hadn’t done much good for her.
“I shouldn’t have asked you to do that,” he said. “I was trying to protect you, convince you to protect yourself. If I’d known we’d fall in love, I…ah, hell.”
If I’d known had become his mantra with her. She deserved better, someone who actually had the sense to see ahead. Someone who wouldn’t cost her so much.
“No.” She pushed herself up on one elbow. Tears streaked her face, and fury snapped through the bond. “Don’t you go there, Griffin Dare. There can’t be anyone else for me, not ever. It’s you I love, you I want. Only you.”
“I want you to have what you deserve,” he insisted. The strain in her face, the pain quivering through her, said how much keeping her word had cost her. “As for what you did, I meant it when I said you’d be doing me a favor. I’m grateful. Don’t have the words to say how much.”
He brushed back her soft tresses. “I love you, Valeria.”
Other memories were coming back, raking at him, images of mages glaring at her. Insulting her. Tarring her with his brush. But he couldn’t deal with that now, not when she needed him to comfort her.
“I love you, too. Always, Griffin.” Her grip tightened. “I’m so glad for the chance to say that to you again.”
“Me, too, honey.” In the bond, the echo of her pain, the searing memory, scalded him, too. He’d threatened to eat her heart, fo
r God’s sake. He pressed a kiss into her hair. “Clearly I suck in the last words department.”
“Well, you get another shot at that.” Valeria gathered herself, the effort resonating in the mind link, until she could raise her head and smile at him. “We both get another shot.”
He wiped the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. “We’ll take full advantage of that.”
Though the advantage might not be as much as he’d like. Even an acquittal, which had to be more likely now, wouldn’t change most people’s view of him. But saying so would only upset her. Instead, he kissed her.
She opened for him, forgiveness and love warming her touch. Griff let himself relax and take what she was offering. In return, he showed her the love that swelled his heart. He pressed slow kisses on her cheek, on her temple, her nose, finally on her mouth again.
Her lips pressed against his and flash fire rocketed through him. She was burning with him. Yet the intensity was muted, distant. Damn it.
He rolled above her, aware of her arms sliding down his bare back, her tongue fencing with his. Her honeysuckle scent and the absence of ammonia taste.
None of it felt right. He couldn’t feel her, smell her, as keenly as before. He rolled to the side and tugged her to him.
“It will come back.” Valeria must’ve caught his frustration in their bond. She brushed back his hair. “I know it will. You’re still recovering. Besides, I love you completely, Griffin. Whatever comes back or doesn’t.”
“I love you, too, honey, no matter what.” So he would do right by her, whether she liked it or not.
Now he remembered what Blake had said about the mages never forgiving her for siding with him. Shielding the thought, he tightened his arm around her. “Speaking of last words, what am I doing here?”
She settled against his side with her head a welcome weight on his shoulder. “Stefan isn’t sure. Not long after the helo lifted off, you started coming back to us. That was a shock, to put it mildly, but none of us are complaining. Though Stefan has done a lot of muttering, seeing as you were definitely dead by any clinical standard.”
Pain flickered between them, and she cupped his cheek. “Griffin, I—”
“Don’t. You did what I asked, love. End of story.” He gave her a direct look, willing her to feel his honesty.
Yet the awkwardness lingered between them.
Her eyes searched his, but she’d blocked off her feelings. He couldn’t read her.
At last, she said, “What do you remember? Do you have any idea what happened?”
“Not much.” Stroking her hair, wishing he could feel it the way he used to, he stared up at the ceiling. “That heart shot of Stefan’s hurt. Then…I was angry. Something sizzled through me. Tore at me. Strengthened me, too. When you grabbed me that last time, the tearing was harder.”
She flinched, and he kissed her.
“Don’t,” he said. Stroking her hair again, he struggled to remember. “The tearing, then…I saw you. Saw us, you holding me. Then Stefan pushing himself up. I called out—tried to reach you. But I was falling away, rushing away. How long was I out, anyway?”
“You started coming back to us about an hour later. In the chopper. That was around three this morning, and it’s nine twenty at night now.” She slid her fingers over his cheek, her eyes grave. “I was so afraid to believe it, to hope. But now I have you back, and I would do it all again for that.”
She laid her palm against his cheek and let him feel her sincerity in their bond. “Believe that, Griffin.”
“I’ll try to.” Stroking her back, he knew she was telling him the truth, which made him far luckier than he deserved.
Desire warmed her eyes and flowed between them. He lowered his head to hers, lost himself in the touch and taste of her, the love she gave him. But the distance, the muteness, filtered the contact.
For her sake, he forced a grin when he raised his head. “I’m sure Stefan, and probably Will, will poke at this sixteen ways from Sunday.”
“I should call Stefan. Your folks are here, too, and the team. They’re all going public about their loyalty to you, and they’ve been very good to me.”
“They’d better be.”
Sliding off the bed, she smiled at him. “Are you hungry? Miss Hettie made chicken pie and has watermelon for the side. Your mom made peach cobbler. She says this combo is your favorite meal.”
“Yeah.” His answering smile came from his heart. He hadn’t eaten homemade chicken pie or cobbler since he’d gone rogue. “But wait, what about the splice at the old Adams place? Tonight is the dark of the moon. What if something tries to come through?”
“Collegium mages are on guard, and they told Will no one has shown up to answer that summons. Destroying the orb must’ve voided it, for which we can be thankful. The Collegium mages know we’re here but not much else. We’re playing our cards close.”
“I knew I’d hooked up with smart people.”
“Indeed. Oh, and Stefan said you’re to stay in bed until morning.” With a grin, she added, “I’m sure Magnus will watch over you, especially since I’m bringing back pie.”
The dog’s ears lifted, and he thumped his tail on the bed. Grateful for the small pleasure, Griff scratched the big golden’s back. Magnus laid his head on Griff’s thigh, the familiar bowling-ball weight reassuring although, again, damnably muted.
Griff leaned back in the bed and reveled in the quiet pleasure of the moment. He really was here, alive. Not a ghoul. With her.
“You and I will eat in here with your folks and Hettie. The others will come see you after. If you’re up to it.”
“Just try to stop me.” He grinned at her as happiness pushed into his throat. Dinner with his family. A little thing, except he hadn’t had it for a long, long time.
“I’ll be right back.” She kissed him quickly and left.
As she walked out the door, he enjoyed the view of her superb ass. His blood stirred, surely a good sign, and he reached mentally for her.
Reached, and got nothing. Because she wasn’t touching him anymore? He still felt unusually tired. Still couldn’t feel the magic. Or even the life energy of the dog he was scratching.
Heart pounding, Griff stretched one hand out in front of him and summoned power. Nothing. No glow, not even a spark.
Well, shit. The bastards had drained him, after all. Why hadn’t that killed him?
Regardless, he’d come back from the dead. His power probably would, too.
If it didn’t, though, then what?
He blew out a slow breath. One problem at a time. First, nail that fucking Blake.
Chapter 26
Odd, Griff thought, that a globe of crystal, a neutral, inanimate thing, might signal the end of his hopes. The world ends not with a bang but a whimper, like T. S. Eliot said. Except Griff didn’t even have a whimper’s worth of power in his hands now. Without it, he couldn’t make the crystal glow.
With Valeria on the camelback sofa beside him and Stefan across from them and morning light pouring into Hettie’s parlor, he felt strangely distanced from the two people who were so dear to him. He’d never been this close without sensing their magic.
His neck tensed. He bit back a curse.
“Take your time with it.” Stefan leaned forward. “Draw the magic first, then channel it into the ball.”
“Yeah. It’s the first part that’s the problem.”
“If I touch you,” Valeria said, “activate our bond and let you draw magic through it, would that help?”
“Worth a try.” At least he’d managed to sound as if the idea of being unable to tap the power without her didn’t burn him. At least she had recovered her ability to shield this morning. If only she’d been able to protect herself from him yesterday.
Her hand slid onto his forearm. The magic she drew warmed the bond, warmed his mind the way sitting by a fire in winter warmed his face. He opened to the power, reached for it…and nothing came.
Well, hell. Gentl
y, because this wasn’t her fault, he closed the bond as her dismay rose to match his.
“No joy,” he said for Stefan’s benefit. He set the crystal globe carefully in the tripod holder on the coffee table.
Valeria reached for his hand. He laced his fingers through hers and silently, in his own head, damned whatever muted the sensation, as though he were wearing gloves. Defying it, he raised her hand to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles.
Her fingers tightened on his. It will be all right, she thought to him.
If only.
Stefan frowned at him. “I feel magic in you. It’s there. If the bond you two share can still function, even if you have to touch to activate it, there’s still magic in you. They didn’t manage to drain all of your power, maybe because of the venom.”
Griff glanced at Valeria. “That would be ironic.”
“And then some,” Stefan agreed. “It may also be that your third eye may’ve been different from most mages’ in some way that let you do things we can’t—translocate farther, move faster, tolerate such a high venom level in your blood.”
Griff raised an eyebrow. “‘May have been’?” The brow chakra, or third eye, was the seat of magical ability. If it was damaged…
Anger flamed in Stefan’s hard eyes. “Whatever they did blew your brow chakra to hell. Instead of the single segment Mundanes have, we have five. Or should. You have only one of the five now, with a bloblike shape that looks like a big scar where the other segments should be.”
“Can you realign?” Valeria asked. “Retune the chakras?”
Stefan shook his head. “I can’t realign what isn’t there anymore.” Bitterly, he said, “I’m sorry, Griff.”
That sounded about as final as things could get. Valeria’s hand tightened on Griff’s, but he kept his mind closed to her. How could he stand beside her, let alone shield her, if he couldn’t match her in a fight? “Then I’m done, finished as a mage.”
“I don’t like to say finished.”
Griff shrugged. “Facts, Stefan. Though none of that explains why I’m still alive.” Alive but useless. He couldn’t win justice for his dead if he couldn’t fight.
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