Guilty as charged.
Douglas sighs long and loud, like this is beyond annoying. He glances at the doorway to make sure no one is passing by, checks that Everett is still unconscious, and then fixes me with a serious stare.
“I can still heal you if you swear by the gods to keep your mouth shut about it.”
I arch a brow, curious. “Fine. I swear by myself.”
The caster scoffs, missing my inside joke, before focusing on my shoulder again. This time, his hands light up with a soft white light, but his eyes don’t glow. Tingling power washes over my shoulder as liquid warmth, vanquishing the pain at once. I can sense the magic spreading further, soothing the lingering aches and soreness I’ve felt since waking up. If Douglas feels the pain this time, he doesn’t show it.
I glance at his glowing hands. “This is holy magic.”
The same untraceable power that Pia—no, Galene—used to heal me even when I was a revenant. The same kind of magic I can supposedly wield, once I finally figure out how.
Maybe this is the only kind of magic that can heal me now that I’m a demigoddess and not a revenant.
He moves on to my bitten ankle without having to ask where the pain is. “Yep.”
“You’re a saint?”
“None of your damn business. But no.”
Aside from Silas, this is my first time meeting another hybrid caster. I guess holy magic plays nice with all other types of magic.
Douglas finishes and touches my shoulder. It’s clinical, but my stomach still lurches. I jerk away from the contact, leveling him with my most withering look.
“Whoa. Relax. Message received.” He shifts to a crouch, wisely putting distance between us while squinting at me. “Hey.You could’ve killed me while I was hunting you months ago. Why didn’t you?”
I roll my shoulder, relieved that I no longer have to tune out the pain.
“Your death would have been less fun than fighting you again in the future. Also, I don’t take lives without good reason. You haven’t given me a reason. Yet,” I tack on so that he knows we’re not about to get chummy.
“Huh. Fair enough.”
Not one to linger, Douglas grunts as he picks Everett’s unconscious body off the floor before stepping into the attached professor’s quarters. Aside from the frosted windows and ice everywhere, it’s clear this is where Everett has been living since everything happened.
The towering bounty hunter deposits Everett on the bed, stretches, and turns to leave, but I cut him off.
“If you tell anyone I'm back, you won't have time to regret it before you're dead.”
“You're not much of a people person, are you?”
“Pot, kettle.”
He barks a laugh. “Believe me, I'm not interested in complicating my life by getting mixed up in whatever shitstorm you're about to create. As long as Frost keeps paying the big bucks, I'm the best ally you'll ever have, so your secret’s safe with me. Now move, because I've got a lumpy pillow and five shitty hours of sleep calling my name.”
I lock the doors once he’s gone, sensing fresh protective magic wards laid over them. Then I sit beside Everett on the bed. Either I spent the last six months getting lazy in Paradise, or resurrecting just takes a lot out of a bitch, because just sitting on a comfy bed like this makes my exhaustion ten times more noticeable.
Everett shifts slightly beside me, immediately taking my full attention. Relief sweeps over me when his glacier-colored eyes blink open in tired confusion. Then he bolts upright, the temperature plummeting even more around us—until his frantic gaze settles on me.
“Oh, fucking gods on high,” he rasps, pulling me into his arms immediately. “It was real.”
His slight mint scent surrounds me as he buries his face in my neck. His breathing picks up into the same erratic pattern he was trapped in when he whisked me back to Everbound. He's shaking as it grows even colder in here.
I hold him back just as tightly, but when I shiver, he inhales sharply and practically launches off the bed to get away.
“Damn it. You're too cold. You're too cold and it's all my fault and you can’t get close to me again or you might?—”
“Everett,” I say, trying to calm him down.
