Feral Heart: A Witch Hospital Romance (The Witches of White Willow Book 2)
Page 7
“Maybe, one day.” Mina started eating. The food was delicious, of course. Roasted chicken, rosemary potatoes, string beans. They’d sent down some steak as well but Mina knew that was something Zeus really loved so she didn’t indulge. She’d treat him instead. Maybe it would earn her some brownie points with the little monster. “Where do you hail from? Which clan are you affiliated with?”
Mina motioned to Angel’s glass, offering some of the red wine she always had on hand. Much to her surprise, Angel accepted.
“I’ve been with Mother Stone from the time that I was a child.” Angel took a sip of the wine and smiled her approval.
It was a good vintage, one that Mina had shipped in from her friend’s winery in Canada. “Oh really?”
“My mother worked with the Stone clan for many decades and after I’d been marked as a Sin Eater, so did I.”
From what Mina knew, the Sin Eaters were uniquely gifted with the ability to take on the ills of other witches, something in their DNA made it possible for them to absorb the pain inflicted onto others. The manifestation of their powers typically didn’t present until puberty.
“I vowed to serve her in all of her life journeys.” Angel continued. “And she has graciously allowed me to accompany her here, to White Willow, where I will continue to serve her in whatever way she sees fit.”
“Are you saying that you are pledged to Mother Stone?” Mina couldn’t contain her surprise. For Mother Stone to willingly give away her devoted Sin Eater to serve Bas was a sacrifice that was hard to swallow. It meant that Mother Stone was parting from her own personal protection against harm. Even as a powerful witch, there were likely things that even she couldn’t battle on her own.
“I am pledged to serve her, yes. Which means I do as she desires. Her selfless endeavor to make White Willow an inclusive hospital is something that I can, and do, fully embrace. She has given me the freedom to use my skills in whatever way I see fit.”
Many witches would abuse the power of having a Sin Eater devoted to their service. Mother Stone was giving hers away in order to guide an intern.
“And the others? The ones who came with you?”
“They are all devoted to Mother Stone’s vision.” Angel smiled. “All are invested in the common good of all witch-kind, even fellow humans.”
And that was a lesson that Bas was sorely in need of.
“Amazing,” Mina breathed. “What was it like, growing up with a witch like Mother Stone? Actually, never mind.” Mina chuckled as she drank some of her wine. “I know her well enough to know the answer to that.”
“You have a history with her.” Angel said it as a statement not a question.
She would know, of course. While Mina had never met Angel or any of the other Sin Eaters who served Mother Stone, she did have a history with the woman that ensured she was forever indebted. Years ago, Maria Stone had tried valiantly to save Mina’s mother’s life, even when it was clearly hopeless. She hadn’t given up until the moment her mother had breathed her last.
“Mother Stone is a strong witch and a compassionate Healer. She doesn’t give up on people.” Tears pricked at Mina’s eyes. “She took a chance on me, inviting me to work here, I mean.”
“As I said, you were the only person for this job. Your reputation precedes you.” Angel reached out and touched Mina’s hand. “Mother Stone has a good heart and she sees your potential even if you don’t always see it yourself.”
A silence fell. Mina felt the uncomfortable truth of that compliment, unused to the pulse of pride that raced through her. Angel’s hand lingered. Mina fought the instinct to downplay her role at White Willow and brush aside her reputation. Angel’s eyes shone with understanding and warmth.
Mina cleared her throat. “Blessed Be.”
Angel nodded then slid her hand back to her fork. “Blessed Be.”
They ate in silence for a few moments. Mina’s thoughts turning inward, remembering…always remembering what had happened.
Her mother had been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer when Mina was a teenager. Neither she nor her father had enough power to save her, the cancer was too aggressive. Maria Stone had come, having maintained a lifetime friendship with Mina’s father, at his request, and hadn’t left for the months it took for her mother to die. She’d made sure, at least, that Mina’s mother hadn’t suffered, not even as the cancer ate her alive.
Her memories were a downward spiral that could occupy her for days so she snapped herself back to the present and focused on her guest.
“Tell me about your travels. You’ve been with her from childhood, and I know she gets around, so tell me a story about you. Something you discovered in your journeys.”
A wistful smile broke on Angel’s face. “There are many, I will admit. I have lived a blessed life. And yes, serving Maria.” She paused. “Excuse me, Mother Stone, has given me many opportunities for travel. There was one time we ventured to Romania—did you know there are still thriving clans of nocturnal vampires there? Some with magical abilities as well. A hybrid of sorts.”
“Really?” There were so many anomalies in the magic world that it seemed so absurd that pure witches thought they were the only ones capable of tremendous power.
“They have familiars too, if you would believe.” Angel waved her hand.
“Do they take blood, the familiars?”
“Oh yes, and their powers are unique. The symbiotic relationship is fascinating actually.” She took another drink of the wine. “The vampire witches are very sheltered from the modern world. Mother Stone discovered them by accident when she was researching some old tapestries.”
Mina lost track of time as Angel told more and more of her experiences. Traveling to Australia, to Ireland, to Greenland and even to Antarctica. She’d encountered so many different types of witches and their beastly companions that Mina could hardly keep up with it all. They’d moved from the table to the couch, finishing one bottle of wine and midway through a second. Angel sat on one end of the couch, her cloak left behind altogether and her simple blue scrubs showing more of her body, the scars she wore like badges of honor marking her flesh from neck to fingertips.
“And the shaman offered me immortality in exchange for my scars, of all things,” she breathed, her cheeks rosy from all the wine.
Mina moved closer, setting her wine glass on the coffee table. She floated her fingers over Angel’s arm, a silent question as she closed the distance between them.
Angel shifted closer as well. “They don’t hurt,” she whispered.
Mina nodded, then let her fingers glide along the bubbling scars. They were intricate and stood about an inch up from her arm, hard tissue that had the same purplish tint as the fine ones on her face. She could feel the power pulsing there, all the magic that Angel had coursing through her that allowed her to absorb the sins of others. How Bas could think there was anything grotesque or unnatural about Angel, Mina would never understand.
Mina ran her fingers gently up Angel’s arm. “Are there internal scars?”
Angel nodded.
“Damaging ones?” Mina understood the life expectancy of a Sin Eater. If Angel was in her early twenties, she’d already lived most of her life. She was past her prime, even so young.
Another nod.
Tears burned the back of Mina’s eyes. “Oh.” She moved her fingers away and sat back, deflated. “How long?”
Angel bit her lip, her own eyes glistening. “Not long probably.”
Mina’s thoughts returned to her mother. “There are spells to ease the pain.”
“That’s not the way of the Sin Eaters, Mina.”
This she knew and, as Bas had pointed out, it was something that made some witches uncomfortable around the Sin Eaters. The suffering seemed unnecessary to anyone outside of the Sin Eater clans, especially since it was a choice they made to endure the pain rather than seek treatment for it.
And now Mina had to carry the burden of knowing that Angel had come t
o serve her as well, that at some point, Mina would need the Sin Eater’s help.
“I don’t need you to sacrifice for me. I mean, not that I don’t appreciate the gesture but…” Mina put more distance between them. “I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, you can.” Angel agreed, reaching her hand back to snag her cloak. “But there are some curses that just can’t be anticipated. Consider me an insurance policy only. No need to fear what may not come to be.”
Mina gulped, not really taking any solace at that. Anxiety poked at her thoughts. What could possibly happen that would require a Sin Eater’s intervention? She never left the Dungeon for long and she never really took risks when she ventured into the Dark Forest.
Angel reached out and touched Mina’s hand once again, soothing her fears with a pulse of power. “You have much worthy work still to do, Mina Knox. The familiars need your advocacy.”
Mina’s thoughts snapped back to the present problem. She’d kicked Bas out. She had a lot of work to get done and Mina needed more hands on deck to do it all. If Angel left now, so did Bas.
Angel smiled before buttoning her cloak at her throat. “Mother Stone requires that I report to her at the witching hour each night.”
Of course she does. Mother Stone was ever watchful. “Perhaps you can let Healer Frank know that he can come back if he wants.” Mina sighed. “And maybe not mention that I sent him away to Mother Stone?”
Angel jerked her hood over her head. “It was my understanding that you no longer wanted him in your service.”
Mina’s smile faded. “I don’t, really. Bas is an arrogant puke but he’s also presumably talented and I need his help. Maybe, together, we can work on his shitty attitude.”
Angel nodded, her cloak swaying. “As you wish, Mina Knox.” She stood from the couch. “And yes, I believe that together we can accomplish great feats.”
Mina nodded, suddenly feeling like her path had locked into place. He might be big and he might be bad, but Mina never shied away from a challenge and she wasn’t going to start now.
But there was no way in hell that she was ever falling for his seductive shit again.
8
Bas was back in the intern suite, showered, changed, and grumbling his way through a hastily made sandwich.
Chanda walked into the kitchen, giving him a once over. “What are you doing here?”
Bas took another bite instead of answering.
She shrugged and moved to plug the kettle in.
“Where is everyone?” Bas opened the fridge, looking for something else to eat. There was no shortage of food in there. Fully stocked all the time.
Their dorm was more like a suite at an upscale hotel, complete with feather mattresses and Egyptian cotton and a full complement of all the worldly amenities, gourmet coffee maker, laundry service, and a fridge stocked full of all the things he liked. Pretty sweet for an intern set up and one of the things that Mother Stone hadn’t changed since she’d taken over.
“Hazel is in the ER, Tate is on rotation in psych. Mahdyia is in the field on some mission with Bridget.”
Bas grumbled some more over that. He should have been in the field. Bridget should have fought for him to go instead of abandoning him to stay behind, mired in the bullshit of politics and policy. Where was her loyalty in all this? Clearly with Mother Stone. Deep down, he knew things would never have lasted between them but he had come to believe that she wouldn’t sell him out, that she knew just how talented he was and wouldn’t want to squander his power. But obviously their relationship was over and he’d been left behind. Under appreciated no matter where he went.
“I think they’re hunting some animals or something.” Chanda leaned up against the counter opposite him. “What happened to you? I mean, I heard about the freak out in the ER… Probably landed you in a lot of crap, right?”
He pulled out a container with chicken and shut the fridge. “I was sent down to the Dungeon.”
“The Dungeon? Are you serious? Like for torture or something?” She looked alarmed, but not overly so—more like, the sucks to be you level of concern.
He wasn’t delusional enough to think that they were actually friends. Sure, they had come together and combatted an evil entity and yeah, he’d been there when Hazel needed him to be in order to save Duke, but he wasn’t counting on any of the other interns to have his back. That’s what was so infuriating about Bridget. She’d made it seem like they were in it together; fuck the rest of the neophytes, she was supposed to be looking out for him. But really she was only in it for herself.
“Yeah, it’s just a nickname. The place is actually pretty cool.” He wasn’t the type of guy to lie about anything. Honesty was kind of his thing. Maybe too much honesty most of the time and people didn’t typically like the upfront in-your-face kind of approach to life but he wasn’t going to lie to Chanda about the Dungeon just because he didn’t particularly like who ran it. “It’s set up as a clinic for ill familiars and rehab for the ferals. And there’s a sanctuary space there, too.”
“That sounds cool.” She rubbed her hand over her face. The kettle whistled and she poured the hot water into her mug. “I’m exhausted. Just finished up a shift. I’m going to shower and get some sleep.” She pushed herself off the counter and started for the door. “How long are you stuck working down there anyway?”
“I’m not going back.” He started eating the cold chicken right from the container.“It’s not a good fit for me down there. The supervisor is an asshole. I’m going to request a transfer to the Scrub.”
Chanda stopped walking and glanced over her shoulder, her eyebrow cocked. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She turned fully and walked back into the kitchen. “Are you some kind of idiot or something?”
He choked down his mouthful. “Fuck you. What do you know about it?”
“I know that the Scrub is going to traumatize you. Yeah, even tough guys like you can’t handle it.” She snorted at the expression on his face. “Five interns just came out of a rotation down there, not because they were done, because they were all fucked up over it. I was just treating them in the ER. They were all blubbering messes. Some of them big dudes like you. I sent them upstairs for counselling.” She crossed her arms, blowing a breath out. “Listen, I don’t know what happened down in the Dungeon, or whatever, but I do know that requesting to fast track to the Scrub before you’re ready isn’t going to go well. You caused a lot of shit in the ER. I wasn’t even there when it all went down and I heard all about it. Mother Stone was in a mood all afternoon because of it, too. You go to her and demand a change in punishment and she’s likely to put you in the Scrub and not as an intern.”
Bas scoffed but also put the container down, suddenly not very hungry. His stomach churned with unease.
“Whatever happened with your supervisor in the Dungeon, fix it. Now. The last thing you want is to piss Mother Stone off even more. You’ve got to lay low and make amends somehow. This is your career, dumbass, don’t fuck it up. Otherwise you’ll end up doing your healing on humans, who you so loathe, out in the countryside as a defunct White Willow intern. You won’t even be fit to be called a Healer if you don’t make it through this program.”
He knew that happened. Healers got booted. It didn’t mean the end of a Healer career outright. He could still practice healing, but Chanda was right—it wouldn’t be on pure witches, it would be on humans. And it wouldn’t carry the prestige of White Willow’s stamp of approval. And he would never achieve the respect or acknowledgement that he was after.
She didn’t say anything more after that. She just gave him a look and then turned on her heel, leaving him to stew in his own misery for a while. Self-pity was not his go-to but he didn’t feel all that great about his options all of a sudden.
He had to play nice and get on Mina’s good side. He was treading too close to Mother Stone kicking him out as it was—it didn’t take a genius to understand that. Putting the moves on Mina had been kind of out
ta line, no matter how much she seemed to want it, he shouldn’t have gone there with her. He’d been there, done that, and now he was stuck doing time in the Dungeon. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned in all this. Quit chasing sex from the supervisors. There were plenty of women working at White Willow who didn’t have authority over him and who were fair game. If he needed to get his dick wet, he could seek out someone less powerful.
Bas sighed…rubbing his hand over his face. He needed to keep things professional and get the job done. That was that then. Tail between his legs, he was going to have to suck it up and beg for forgiveness. Mina might be a tough-as-steel boss but she wasn’t heartless. In fact, she had more compassion than the average person. If he acted contrite he’d get back in there and then he’d fly straight and keep his head down until his punishment was over. Cross his heart, no trouble.
Decision made, he packed up a duffle bag full of necessities and returned to the Dungeon. He couldn’t find Mina or the Sin Eater in the main rooms, and not wanting to venture into her private quarters, he moved into the back where the cats were sleeping in their cages. All of them were curled into balls, faces tucked into tails, oblivious to his presence. All except for Zeus. The alpha was sitting up in his cage, looking regal as he regarded Bas with those intensely miscolored eyes.
“You’re quite the beast,” Bas said to the cat. “You know that they call you Zeus?”
The cat blinked but otherwise didn’t acknowledge Bas. Familiars were interestingly complex creatures. The more evolved, the more they were like their witch counterparts, with intelligence that sometimes rivalled the humans. Some could understand speech—not language per se, but communicated in such a way that they were able to transfer information to their witch in a uniquely simpatico way. It came with the bond and Bas had seen it first-hand many times between his mother and her familiar. An unspoken dialogue that passed between them at all times. But that relationship had been unique as well. His mother hadn’t been human for one, and she’d had a range of powers that should have made a familiar unnecessary. But all the same, the animal had come to her and they’d bonded and Bas knew that she wouldn’t have survived as long as she did without the beast.