In Search of Healing

by Katie Holmburg

  Switching tactics, she tried an inward crescent kick followed by a spin hook kick and a back fist. Again, he easily evaded her. He was just too fast, but it wouldn’t help her if she backed him into a corner. She had tried it once and he had come out fighting with an intensity that had scared her. But his lesson had been clear; a cornered foe was twice as dangerous if not more so.

  Their bout lasted a little longer this time, but eventually it came to the same conclusion as the first one. This time, however, Cyrus reached out and gently hauled her to her feet, his Lycan strength making the task look like child’s play.

  He rumbled approvingly this time, “That was much better, much better. You have made good progress, although you are still like a little kitten trying to be a fierce tiger.”

  She rolled her eyes at him as Lirim chimed in from the side, “He’s right. Your form is decent, but you need to practice more. Your transitions are rough, and you think too much.”

  Cyrus looked at him appraisingly. “You do much fighting?”

  Lirim chuckled, “A bit. I trained as a guard for the Glade, fought in the Outlier war for a bit.”

  Cyrus’s eyes lit up like he’d just received a present. “Wanna spar?”

  Lirim’s expression brightened as well. Aletta rolled her eyes. Men. They loved to pound on each other for some reason. Her brothers were just the same. Wiping at the sweat trickling down her forehead, she grumbled, “Let me get out of the ring first and then you guys can wale on each other all you want, k?”

  Lirim graciously held the ropes so she could climb out easily, then handed her a towel and water. She took them gratefully and nodded her thanks, still out of breath from the last bout.

  Despite her exasperation at their eagerness to pound on each other, she made sure that she had a seat where she could see everything clearly. She wiped her face gratefully before draping the towel around her neck and guzzling half the bottle of water in one go.

  Making herself comfortable, she watched as Lirim quickly went through a simple stretching routine. She saw a couple stretches and absently noted that she would have to get him to teach them to her. Once he was sufficiently warmed up, the two men squared off in the middle of the ring.

  They touched knuckles and they were off. Aletta sucked in a breath, feeling her eyes widen. By all that was holy, they were fast! She couldn’t keep up as they traded blows back and forth, ranging over the entirety of the ring, never stopping, never pausing for more than a breath at a time. She knew that Lirim was fast; he’d managed to stop Druery from landing a second blow on her when he had attacked them, and she knew that he was well trained. The Glade Guardians were the elite of the elite, and no one came through a mess like the Outlier war without learning some hard lessons.

  But knowing was one thing and seeing was totally another. She knew that Lirim and Cyrus were both faster and stronger than most humans, but it was something else to realize how truly delicate she was compared to either of them. They exchanged blows that would have broken her bones or sent her clear out of the ring, but shrugged them off like they were mere inconveniences. She knew both of them were tough, but this was a whole new level of wow.

  She watched with fascination, trying to pick apart what was going on. After several minutes, she gave up and simply watched them. She would have been concerned, but both men seemed be having a good time, their faces alight with fierce exhilaration.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, although it was only a little over thirty minutes by the clock, they seemed to end the fight by mutual agreement, neither one having managed to overpower the other. It had been a friendly fight, so there were no serious injuries, although both men were panting lightly and she was sure that each sported their fair share of bruises.

  She called out teasingly, “You two through showing off how tough you are? Because I have other things to do today.”

  Cyrus growled at her, but it lacked any heat. “You have a smart mouth, pack sister. But yes, we’re done for now.” Turning to Lirim, he grinned. “Not bad, Bosk. Same time next week?”

  Lirim grinned back at him, “Same to you, Tala. Haven’t had a good sparring partner in ages. Sounds like a plan.” He clapped Cyrus on the shoulder and made his way out of the ring.

  She shook her head over the weirdness of male bonding rituals and turned to gather her stuff. She shuddered at the thought of Cyrus and Lirim becoming best buddies and teaming up on her but shoved the thought aside. It was no good to borrow trouble and they were both too alpha.

  She went over and hugged Cyrus. “Thanks, Cy. I know I grumble, but I really do appreciate it. Now if I could just figure out how to spend less time bonding with the mat, I might even come to enjoy it.”

  He hugged her back, “It’s no problem. The rest of the pack would have my head if I didn’t keep an eye on you. Are you going to come see Ruby soon? She’s been asking about you.”

  “I’ll see if I can manage to drop by sometime next week. Things are going to be a little crazy for a while.” She smiled up at him and took a step back so she could see his face clearly.

  Abruptly sobering, he waved for Lirim to go ahead. Lirim watched them curiously but did as he was bid and made a beeline for the men’s locker room. Once he was out of hearing range, Cyrus draped a loose arm around her shoulders and turned her so that she was facing him. “How are you, Aletta? Truly? I know it’s a tough time for you right now.”

  Smiling at his evident concern for her, she reached up and gently touched his cheek. He leaned into it, comforted by the touch of one he considered a pack mate. “I’m all right, Cy. It’s a bit rough, especially with the case I’m on right now, but it’s actually been healing to deal with it. I’ve run from it for too long.”

  He simply nodded, and she wasn’t surprised that he knew about the case they were on. Although it was an undercover case, Cy had a way of ferreting things out that was rivaled only by Ian and Cass’ talents. In fact, she was sure that they were probably main sources of information for him.

  “After it’s all over, I’ll come and hang with the pack on game night. That work? It’s been a while since I’ve come to one of those.”

  “That would be good. Ryan’s been dying to challenge you to Mario Kart again. You can even bring Bosk if you want.”

  She shook her head and chuckled. “You guys pound on each other for half an hour and suddenly he’s getting invites to game night. I just don’t get men.”

  She turned to leave then had a thought and turned back. “Oh, and Cy, he knows about all of it. Just so you know.”

  He nodded his approval. “Good, you need someone to watch your back when the pack cannot.”

  She turned and left, waving absently over shoulder. She called, “Next time, I’ll get you. Just you wait.”

  His chuckle chased after her. “We shall see. You can try.”

  * . * . *

  The car ride was quiet, unusually so. Lirim could tell that Aletta was concerned about something, but couldn’t figure out what was bothering her. He could tell from the affection in her voice when she talked about her family that she wasn’t seriously worried about being interrogated at the barbecue.

  He glanced at himself but could find nothing wrong with his appearance. He had brought nice clothes with him to the gym so he’d look nice when they’d visited her family. He was surprised that she was dressed so casually in just jeans and a pretty turquoise top, her hair hanging loose. He glanced over to where she was looking out the window, chewing absently at her lip. He looked himself over for a second time but couldn’t find anything that would cause that level of worry. You couldn’t even tell that he’d been sparring with a Lycan a little while before.

  He felt an idea click into place. Was she mad that he had sparred with Cyrus? Neither of them had been hurt, and it had been nice not to have to hold back for a change. Still, if it had upset her for some reason, he had better get to the bottom of it.

  He asked quietly, “Are you mad that I sparred with Tala?”<
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  She looked at him, her expression startled. “What?”

  He repeated, “Are you mad that I sparred with Tala?”

  Her expression shifted into puzzlement. “Why would I be mad that you two sparred? Baffled by how two men can pound on each other and suddenly be friends, but not mad.”

  He chuckled quietly at that but didn’t drop it. Choosing his words carefully, he said, “You seem... upset for some reason. Is it something I did?”

  She frowned at him, “What? No! Why would you even think that?”

  “We’ve been driving for nearly half an hour now, and you haven’t said anything besides giving me your parents’ address.”

  Her frown faded away and was replaced by that distant thoughtful expression again. “Oh. No, I’m not mad at you. I’m just thinking about something is all.”

  Not liking that expression on her, he asked cautiously, “Is it something I can help with?”

  She sighed, her frustration clearly evident in the sound. “I have a question, and I don’t know how to phrase it without it being either incredibly offensive and/or racist.”

  This surprised him, and he examined her out of the corner of his eye. She fidgeted nervously in her seat, her fingers playing restlessly with her seatbelt. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking about that could fall into that category, but it was obvious that it was deeply concerning to her.

  He shrugged. “Why don’t you just ask your question, and I can let you know if it crosses a line or not? After all, I can’t tell you if I don’t know what is bothering you.”

  She stilled, her fingers freezing on the belt. Breathing deeply, she seemed to scrape her courage together. “All right, but please don’t hate me.”

  He was starting to get concerned, but he made himself chuckle, “You are way overthinking this. It’s just a question and I know who you are. Trust me, you won’t mortally offend me.”

  “I was watching you two spar earlier and it was amazing. It’ll take me eons to ever get anywhere close to that level.”

  She fell silent, and he wondered if that was what was bothering her. She was passable for someone who hadn’t practiced self-defense or martial arts for years, and consistent practice would help smooth out any issues she had right now. He almost said that, but bit his tongue and waited for her to continue.

  After a moment, she started speaking again, “You guys moved so fast that I couldn’t keep up with what you were doing. I know you are both supernaturals, but it was breathtaking. However, as I was getting cleaned up, I realized that even if I trained all day every day, I would still never match up to you two. You guys are masters of your craft. And it bothered me a little to realize that I could be so easily outmatched. But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered.”

  She paused again and he frowned. What had she wondered about? Some humans resented them for their extra strength, like it was their fault for having been born a super instead of a human. He didn’t peg Aletta as one of those who would resent someone like that, so what was bothering her?

  She took a deep breath and forced herself to continue, “Do you resent us humans? Always having to hold back your strength and speed for us. Always having to slow down and deal with how easily we tire or get injured. Are humans just a burden to fae?”

  He was startled, not expecting this line of thought. “Of course not. You may not have the physical strength of the fae, but humans have just as many advantages over the fae as the fae do the humans. You see, everything in this world is about balance. One race would not survive without the other. And it’s not impossible for humans to equal fae strength. They have to train hard to achieve what comes naturally to us, but it’s not impossible.”

  He looked at her, but she still looked anxious. He said gently, “Why don’t you tell me what is really bothering you?”

  She met his eyes, and he saw fear lurking in the back of her gaze. “Am I a burden to you, Lirim? I know that when we first partnered up, you said that you needed me to help you stay focused and anchored in the present. But you seem to be fine. I really can’t see what I add to this partnership.”

  He sighed, knowing her doubts had probably been triggered both by the sparring and by meeting with Wells the day before. He said firmly, “Yes, it’s true that you don’t add anything physical to the partnership other than your ability to run.”

  Her expression was crushed, but before she could turn away from him, he continued. “However, that is not the strength that you bring to this partnership. That is my role. I am here to guard your back, to stand between you and any threats that would stop you.”

  Her hurt morphed into frustration. “So what do I add? What do I have that you couldn’t find in a different partner?”

  “I stand between you and those who would stop you because you are able to unravel things and make sense of random patterns. You are the one who has the ability to take out the criminals. I just give you space so you can do what you excel at. And do you know why you excel at that?”

  She shook her head, her attention completely focused on whatever he would say next.

  “Because of your heart. You care so much about everyone. No matter how much it might hurt you, you will give every last bit of yourself in order to spare others from pain, to help them out.”

  She frowned, still not convinced. He sighed, knowing that he would have to confess. He had hoped that it wouldn’t come up, but now it looked like he had no choice but to tell her. “Do you remember what Aunt Awena told us about our types of magic and sharing magic?”

  “Of course. You’re a universal donor. I’m a universal recipient.”

  “What about you sharing magic?”

  She stared at him blankly.

  He chuckled. “I think you were still a little disconcerted by talk of zombies and thinking that your magic came from death. Anyway, she told you that you cannot give magic and I cannot receive magic unless there is a close bond.”

  No comprehension entered her eyes and he knew that he would have to spell it out for her. “When we left your Centrum Magia and entered mine, or rather left your cottage and entered my forest, what do you think happened?”

  She thought it over, “You’re right; I didn’t realize that that should’ve been impossible. That means I shared magic with you.”

  He silently urged her to follow the thought all the way to the end.

  “So even though we haven’t performed Gealltanas, we still have a close enough bond that I can share magic with you, and you can receive it, even though normally it’s not possible.”

  He mentally cheered but kept his expression calm and composed. “Exactly. Now, if I had thought about it, I wouldn’t have tried it without talking to Aunt Awena first. But if we hadn’t been close, it wouldn’t have worked at all. Having not grown up a magic user, you probably wouldn’t know this, but that kind of bond does not form between people who are not equals. So yes, you do not have fae strength or speed. But you are still my equal. Don’t doubt it. Please.”

  Her expression eased. Now it only looked thoughtful. He wanted to push, but knew she would have to reach the same conclusion he already had on her own.

  She was about to speak when she glanced out the window. Instead of continuing their conversation, she said, “That’s the house there. The one with the deep red door.”

  He pulled up to the house she’d indicated. It was a single-family home located in a nice suburb. The lawn was green and healthy and had been neatly cut. There were flowerbeds lining the sidewalk, pots of flowers on the porch, and window boxes filled with flowers. A cheery banner waved from the porch. It was a very inviting home.

  Aletta let him look his fill in silence. After a minute, he got out and circled around to let her out. She thanked him and waited while he retrieved the bouquet of flowers he’d brought from the back seat. As they headed for the front door, he asked quietly, trying to put her at ease, “So, this is where you grew up?”

  This drew a smile from her. “Yep, along with
the terrible twosome. Which you will undoubtedly be meeting today. Just please, ignore whatever they say. They mean well, they really do, but sometimes I just wish that mom had drowned them at birth.”

  Her mother opened the just in time to catch the last remark and scolded gently, “Aletta Melody Sheridan, is that any way to talk about your brothers?”

  She muttered rebelliously under her breath, “They’ve said worse.” However, she meekly said, “Of course not. I’m sorry, Mom. Won’t happen again.” She moved forward and hugged her before stepping back so her mother could see Lirim. “Mom, this is my partner, Lirim Bosk.”

  He put on his most charming smile and offered her the bouquet, which she took from him. “Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Sheridan. You have a lovely home.”

  “Why thank you, Mr. Bosk. Please, come in.” She stepped back and held the door for them.

  He stepped inside and followed Aletta’s lead, slipping his shoes and socks off in the foyer. “Please, call me Lirim.”

  Mrs. Sheridan smiled at Aletta and teased, “I like this one, so polite. Why did it take you so long to bring him over?”

  Aletta laughed cheerfully and took the bouquet from her. “Because I knew that you guys would share all sorts of embarrassing stories, and I wanted to make sure that he knew that I am somewhat sane before I exposed him to that. I’ll just go and place these in water for you. Be right back.”

  As she disappeared down the hall, Mrs. Sheridan turned her attention back to Lirim. “If I’m to call you by your name, you must call me by mine. So please, call me Christine. I insist.”

  He smiled, “My mother taught me to never argue with a lady. I would be honored, Miss Christine.”

  She surveyed him again, this time more critically. Seeing that he was serious, she smiled. “So, tell me, what is it like working with my daughter?”

  * . * . *