Maybe I was too weak.
I growled again, a warning, and shoved open his balcony doors. Even though I wasn’t entirely sure what had happened in there, I did know one thing with absolute certainty.
That was fear in Mordecai’s eyes.
Fear.
Of me.
—
“That son of a—” Tarik pulled at his hair and growled at the ceiling. He took a few breaths that did nothing to calm him, then stormed toward me. Rage still simmered through my own veins. My arms trembled, but I tried not to move.
He reached for my face and, despite my best efforts, I flinched. The reaction gave him pause, his hand hovering mid-air. “I would never—” A tremor shook his fingers. He slowly curled them into a fist and let his arm fall. His voice was low—lower than I had ever heard it—as he said, “What. Happened?”
“That wolf—I mean, Squirrel Butler, in the mines. He must have torn one of my feathers out. Mordecai found one down there and went off.” I gritted my teeth. “I handled him. I’m fine.”
“No,” he barked. “You’re not fine, Reagan.” He started pacing then, cursing under his breath. “You can’t stay here. We can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous, and if Mordecai finds more clues of your involvement last night, he’ll kill you.” He stopped and stared a hole through the carpet. “I think we need to go into hiding. The rebels have a safe place.”
I brushed my fingers over the swollen spot on my cheek. The whole area was tender, from my cheekbone to my eyebrow, and I wondered how bad the bruising looked. I sighed. “Tarik, I can do more in my Enforcer position and you know that. Right now I have enough power to make things happen. Take that away and what do I have? This is my life.” I looked away from him, anywhere but at him. The rage was sputtering into tension. Bursts of energy zipped through me. I rocked on my feet. “You can leave if you want to. But I don’t think Mordecai is much of a threat to me.”
I told him everything—the entire meeting, from Mordecai being late, to his tantrum, to the fact that I had shifted—not excluding the fact that I had never shifted on him before. Never. I hadn’t dared. I stammered when I reached the end, the part that revealed my own cowardice. He was braver than me. Tarik wouldn’t have hesitated. But I pushed on.
When I finished I glanced up at Tarik, trying to gauge his reaction.
He chewed on his lip, so aggressively that I wondered if he drew blood. After a full minute, he deflated, shoulders drooping. “This is your decision. I can’t force you to leave, but . . .” He sighed, searching my face. “Promise me something?”
“What?”
His eyes narrowed. “Promise me you’ll be careful. Promise you’ll never turn your back on that devil. There’s something . . . off about him. When I was strapped to that cot and he was—” He looked away, throat convulsing. “He’s desperate for something. Desperate people are unpredictable. And extremely dangerous. Promise you’ll keep your head down.”
My hand twitched. In my mind, I strode across the room and touched his arm, his face. Comforted him. In reality, I resisted. He had drawn lines, ones that he kept erasing and redrawing. I wasn’t ready to meet another dead end. A lump grew in my throat. Even if comforting him felt appropriate to me, he would retreat. I knew he would. So I did nothing.
I sighed. “Sure. I promise.”
“Good,” he murmured, gaze resting on my swollen right cheek, then my jaw where another bruise was probably showing. He deliberated, opening and closing his mouth. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and strode for the hallway, throwing over his shoulder, “Come here. I need to show you something.”
Confused, I trailed behind him. Tarik had slipped into the guest room and sat on the bed, his hands held nervously behind his back.
“Sit.” He gestured to a spot on the mattress next to him and I perched timidly on the edge. What was he up to? His gaze slid over me, then jerked to the ceiling as he muttered to himself. All I heard was “skin.” I glanced down at myself. What? He yanked his shirt off and thrust it at me. “Put this on or I can’t have this conversation.”
I rolled my eyes, but did as instructed.
Then waited.
And waited.
Tarik shook his head, pulling his hand out from behind him. “I’ve been able to do this for as long as I can remember and . . . I want to show you. May I?” He gestured to my injured cheek.
I swallowed. “Um. Sure?”
He scooted closer and brought a knee up onto the bed, boxing me in. Without taking his eyes off mine, he whispered, “Here goes nothing,” then raised both his hands, gently cupping my cheeks.
My heart tried to force its way up my throat. Lines. We were crossing lines. Weren’t we? No, this was innocent. But something tugged at me, a reminder that Fae weren’t keen on touching, especially not shifters. No. I couldn’t think like that. Instead, I held his stare. Waited.
At first, nothing happened, and I had the urge to fidget. Then a warm tingle spread over my swollen cheek and eye, making me jump.
“It’s okay,” Tarik said. “I’m only taking away the pain and a bit of the swelling. I’ll leave the bruises so Mordecai won’t suspect anything.”
Before I was ready, he pulled away. I brushed a finger across my cheekbone. Smooth. The swelling was effectively taken care of. My eyebrows pinched together. “How?”
He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I was told stories about the first Fae to cross into this realm, how they were able to perform miracles. I know many of your kind still think we’re witches, that we have dark magic. But I’ve never met another Fae who could heal with a single touch. Then last night, when my legs were nothing but pulp orange juice, I was able to heal them completely. I’ve never been able to heal an injury that severe before. And so . . .”
He held up a green rock with a flourish, it’s multi-faceted surface winking. “I came to the conclusion that this Genesis Crystal stuff has hidden magical powers or something. Boosts my healing abilities, if you will.”
I leapt to my feet, backing away a step. “Isn’t that stuff dangerous?”
He looked at the rock, then me. “Well, I’m not growing two heads or anything. At least . . . not yet.” A smirk tipped his lips. “Why, is the big bad Night Enforcer scared of a rock?”
“Maybe.” I swallowed, eyes locked on the green crystal. I retreated another step.
A wolfish grin stretched his mouth wide as he slowly stood. He stuck the crystal out in front of him and pursued me as I backed out into the hallway. “One little touch and I’ll leave you alone. I know where you keep the waffle batter. I’d hate for that to go missing.”
I looked up at him, catching his eyes for a split second. I resisted the urge to smile. “You don’t play fair. I knew for sure that bacon wouldn’t kill you.”
“But I didn’t know that.” He sighed, exasperated. “Reagan. This rock isn’t going to kill you. It gives, not takes. Are you saying you’ll face off with the Great Dragon but not touch this itty bitty harmless rock?”
“Yes, well. I know he can kill me. Maybe. That rock is a total unknown.” I chanced another glance at his face. “You have no clue what the Genesis Crystal does, exactly. And Mordecai always told me not to touch the stuff.”
“You’re right, I don’t. But I’m ninety-nine percent certain you’re safe since you’re not Fae. I think.” He chuckled, tossing the rock in the air. The green stone shimmered under the bright penthouse lights. Then Tarik looked at me almost . . . victoriously. “Think fast.”
And the rock came soaring toward me. My eyes widened. I didn’t think. Instinct reacted. My fingers curled around the crystal, clutching the sharp edges against my palm. The strange tingling I had felt last night through the gloves intensified, vibrating through my hand, my arm, spreading through my veins.
Then I was on fire.
I gasped, doubling over in pain. My whole body was engulfed. Flames burned in my veins, my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. My knees slammed to the floor and I desperately trie
d to pull in air. Failed.
The room spun.
As my vision began to cloud I inhaled sharply, cool air flooding my lungs. The tingling was back. My body felt energized, invincible. I could take on the world.
Another breath and the flames returned. I curled in on myself, forehead pressed to the floor. Burning. I was burning from the inside. Razor sharp pain sliced up my back, on either side of my spine. Through gritted teeth I screamed into the carpet.
The flames diminished into cooling tingles again. I felt strong, even as my body trembled. Pressure spread across my back, gently at first, then insistent. Oh no. My wings. My wings.
Fire raced through my spine and splintered outward, cascading across my back. My wings screamed in protest as they tried to burst through.
Stuck.
They were stuck on my shirt. Tarik’s shirt.
I focused, pushing every bit of energy I had into shoving them past the fabric. With a loud rip, my wings tore free, exploding to their full span. They roared with the same fire that furiously coursed through my body. The shredded shirt fluttered to the carpet.
Relief.
A last wave of tingling energy washed through me. Then ceased. I lay panting on the carpet, wings splayed across the floor, bracing for the lion that never took over. Shock pulled at my slipping mind. I couldn’t summon only my wings in human form—they weren’t a feature I could partial-shift. Once they were free, there was no stopping my full shifter transformation.
What was happen—
I inhaled a long, shuddering breath before the world fell dark.
“Reagan!”
I was officially the biggest jerk on the face of this planet.
As she fell to her knees, writhing in agony, my whole body froze. Completely unresponsive despite my brain screaming at me to move, to undo what I did. She curled forward, shaking like a leaf, and all I could do was think that I had killed her. Would my decisions forever cause death and destruction?
This was all my fault.
She screamed, and my limbs finally burst into action. I lunged for her hand, the one still gripping that stupid green rock. What had at first been playful was morphing into a nightmare. One I couldn’t wake from.
“Let go, Reagan!” I tried prying the crystal from her fingers but they were locked in place. Vices. Everything was a blur after that. With a rip, the shirt I’d given her fell from her trembling body. And then I was ducking and rolling as wings shot straight out. White. Brilliant.
I waited for the rest of the shift. Instead, she collapsed unconscious, her wings splayed wide on top of her.
The first thing I did was remove that blasted piece of rock from her slackened grip. I was tempted to throw the crystal off the balcony, but forced myself to pocket the object that had caused so much misery. Reagan had experienced adverse effects, but I had to test it on Haven. I knew she would be willing to accept the risks.
What surprised me was the half shift. She had never revealed her wings without her lion form before. Had the crystal caused a shift malfunction?
Kneeling next to her, I reached toward the left wing, curious if the feathers were as soft as they looked, then snatched my hand back. I doubted she wanted me to touch her, not after the cruel trick I had played.
But I couldn’t leave her on the floor either. Naked, once again. I groaned. She really needed specially-designed shifter clothing. For several moments, I simply watched her, the way her wings silently rose and fell with each breath. All by itself, my hand inched for those feathers again, gliding a finger down the length of one.
Softer than silk.
So different from my own.
A low huff of air caught my ear. “Oh no, please don’t. That tickles. And they’re so heavy . . .”
“Reagan?” My heart sped up. She was going to be okay. She had to. “Where do you hurt? Hold on, I’ll heal you—” But I stopped myself from touching her. Swallowed. Forced myself to say, “If you want me to, that is.”
“Honestly,” she began, swiveling her head in my direction, “I feel okay. You’re a prick, by the way, but thankfully I don’t have to hold this against you. I feel . . . rested. Energized. Is that normal?”
“Uh, yeah, I think that’s normal. I get the same energy boost after touching the crystal. Are you sure you’re not in any pain? I thought . . .” I cleared the lump in my throat. “For a minute there, I thought you were dying.”
Her expression softened. “I’m fine, Tarik. Really. These wings, though. I might need help. This hasn’t happened before.”
I blinked. She needed help? “Do you need me to . . . uh. What do you need help with, exactly?” I knew what I needed: a punch to the face.
“Well, let’s start with standing. If I can get my balance, I should be okay.”
Right. Standing. Standing would be good. And she was naked. And awake. And staring at me expectantly. I suddenly had a terrible urge to flee. Stand your ground, man. Stand my ground. Yes. She was a . . . a cat. A cat with graceful arcing limbs and long, flowing—
Crap.
After a deep inhale, I jerked my body into motion, latching onto her biceps. In a flash, I had us both on our feet and quickly dropped my arms. A second later they were up again as she tipped forward and didn’t stop. Closer, closer—Wham!
“Well that’s new,” she mumbled.
I could barely catch the words, what with her mouth mashed against my chest. Heat flared up my neck when I realized my shirt was gone and her lips were pressed to my skin.
Warm. Moving. Breathing.
Gaia, shoot me now.
“Uh, that—that’s okay,” I stuttered, righting her once again. This time, I kept my hands planted on her shoulders as she teetered back and forth. “Can you retract your wings?”
“Can I—” Her eyes widened. “No. I don’t know how. I’ve never had to. Not like this.”
Great. Just great.
I blew out a long sigh. This was going to be interesting. “I’ll walk you through the process. Hopefully. These things kind of come . . . naturally to Fae.” What was I saying? I wasn’t an aerial flight instructor. And I certainly didn’t know how to explain the complex art of wing usage, not when we weren’t allowed to reveal them, let alone use them. “Okay. First, you need to learn balance. Widen your stance and slightly bend your knees.”
As she moved beneath my touch, I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. This wasn’t happening. Note to self: don’t look down.
“Done,” she said.
“Okay. I’m gonna let go now. You ready?”
“Ready.”
My hands left her shoulders, and I took a giant step back, hoping the distance would force her to focus solely on standing. From my peripheral, I saw her wobble, but she didn’t fall. When she straightened, I maneuvered around her, finally allowing my gaze to rest on her wings.
Now what?
“I’m guessing the reason you don’t know how to retract your wings in human form is lack of muscle memory. So first, I need you to be aware of what muscles to focus on.”
My attention drifted to her skin, and I frowned at the faint white lines there. They didn’t cover her body like mine did, but I knew a scar when I saw one. A mix of curiosity and anger thrummed through me. This wasn’t the time to prod into her past, though. I gave myself a few moments, clenching and unclenching my fists, then gently grasped the base of her wing joints.
She shivered, mumbling, “Tickles.”
I couldn’t stop from cracking a grin. “Sorry,” I muttered, laughter in my voice. Clearing my throat, I got back to business. “This right here is what you need to focus on. Not the fact that several feet of bone, cartilage, and feathers need to retract inside your body.” My thumbs lightly stroked where her joints met skin, and she shivered again.
Soft. She was so soft.
If I had to endure much more of this, I was going to lose control.
“Want to try again?” My voice came out all wrong. Deep, rough, shaky.
“Sure.�
�
Her back tensed where I still touched, and I helped rein in that focus, rubbing slow circles at the base of her wings. She hunched next, feathers rustling as her whole body trembled. At her soft grunt, I let go and swiveled to face her, worried she was in pain.
I froze.
That face. All shriveled and puckered in concentration.
I burst out laughing. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I hit the carpet, rolling back and forth, forever imprinting that image of her on my brain.
“Wait, what’s so funny?” she huffed. I couldn’t catch my breath to answer. She crossed her arms over her chest, and I tried hard not to look. “That’s rude, you know.”
“Sorry,” I gasped out. All was silent as I managed to swallow some air. Then I broke into more laughter. I hadn’t laughed like this in . . . forever.
“Well, since you’re so busy rolling around on the floor, I’m going to have some fun.” And she strode for the living room.
I snickered, letting my gaze rest on the lion tattoo spanning her right back thigh, the mane a mess of pink, blue, and yellow flowers and feathers. But when she passed the couch and made for the sliding glass door, my laughter died.
“Reagan, what are you doing?” Her only answer was to slide the door wide. A stone dropped into my gut when I finally realized her intentions. I jumped to my feet and hurtled through the living room. “Reagan, no!”
As she stepped onto the balcony, twin lines scratched down my back and I let my wings punch free. But they couldn’t carry me more than a few feet. Not in their current condition. If she fell . . .
With an extra burst of speed, I lunged. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I dragged her away from the ledge and certain death.
“Oh, now you stop laughing. Great.”
I held her to me, maybe a little too tight, her feathers lightly tickling my stomach. “Reagan?” At the humming noise she made, I growled, “That was not cool.”
She wiggled, tugging for freedom. “I want to try them out!”
Her body intimately rubbed against mine and I froze as a blast of heat shot through my core. Gritting my teeth, I quickly released her and stepped back. Then clamped a hand over her shoulder so she wouldn’t attempt a suicide flight again.
Dawn till Dusk: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Genesis Crystal Saga Book 1) Page 20