Maeve barely made it out the balcony doors and around the corner before she vomited in to the bushes. She clutched her stomach as sweat pooled on her brow. Her chest was icily tight. Once again.
Zimsy appeared with a SWISH. She handed Maeve a small bottle and opened her tiny mouth.
“Zip it,” said Maeve.
She downed the pain potion and Zimsy shook her head. She snatched the bottle back from Maeve and disappeared.
“One too many?”
Maeve turned over her shoulder and suppressed the breath that rose in her chest. Abraxas was correct. He may have been the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His dark hair hung casually at his shoulders. His sharp and earthy scent slammed into her. His tan face wasn’t completely shaved. His light shadow of stubble caused her eyes to linger on him for longer than she would have liked.
Damn.
She recovered quickly. “I don’t drink.”
Reeve looked her over, his eyes narrowing slightly across his otherwise casual demeanor.
His black leather top fitted him perfectly, dipping open into his tattooed chest. Three tiered necklaces hung from his neck. Each with a symbol she didn’t know the meaning of. It was no language she had studied. But she had seen it before. In books about Vexkari, and carved into the hollowed tree in The Yatir Forest.
“You should see a Healer,” he said.
Maeve mustered the strength to scowl at him. A playful glimmer danced across his face at her annoyance.
His eyes were a sunset to themselves.
“I’m fine,” said Maeve. “And I’ve already seen Mrs. Mavros.”
“I don’t mean a Witch Doctor,” he replied. “I mean a Healer.”
“Same difference,” said Maeve.
“Not at all,” said Reeve. “A Healer has power ordained from the Gods. Irma is merely a good nurse. And you’re not fine. There is dark magic hurting you that you did not create.”
“Fuck you,” snapped Maeve cooly.
“My, my,” said Reeve with a slick smile. “You’re spicy this evening. All guards down.”
“Would you prefer me to engage with you in the forced and fake manner that I spend nearly all of my interactions at such events as these?”
Reeve’s smile met his eyes. “No. You’re much more fun this way.”
Maeve rolled her eyes with a quick shake of her head.
“I’ll go fetch Mal for you then,” said Reeve.
“No,” said Maeve quickly. “No, thank you.”
“Hiding something, are we?”
“Can you mind your own business?”
Reeve gave another small chuckle.
“I don’t mind sending my own Healer to see you, or you can come to Aterna to see her. I’m sure Ambrose would love a visit to my city again.”
“You will say nothing of this to my father,” said Maeve.
Reeve’s face twisted in confusion, with a hint of pity. “I don’t know why you’re hiding from them, or from the reality that something is wrong, but if you change your mind-”
