But she didn’t have to ever remember.
Reaching out with mental fingers, she grabbed a shape and touched it to another.
A wave of power rippled through her, and she wondered why.
No, but those two didn’t match. Some pieces would match. Would…
Thought crumbled and she grasped at the crumbs. There was something important there. If only—
She saw it in her mind. The right shape. She couldn’t remember why that one, but she should make it. Lazily, she watched the various shapes swing around her like a baby’s mobile. As the shapes she wanted came into view, she pulled them to her but waited to push them into a whole.
When she had all six, she put them next to one another then gave a little push. They snapped together and light flashed. Power sluiced through her like water through a broken dam.
A ball of power condensed inside her. The pressure built. Her mind began to settle back into pattern. Clarity hit her the split second before the spell in her chest exploded.
Frantically she encased So’la in a shield, and as the spell went nova, she hoped to hell she didn’t open her eyes to carnage.
The enormous burst of magic blew outward with raw, incandescent power. She felt it incinerate the sticky nettles that wrapped around her in cobweb strands, thorns soft as down and ever so dangerous.
She gasped, drawing in a harsh breath, her lungs aching, pain stabbing through her chest. She arched up off the ground then collapsed again, coughing weakly.
Mallory? Answer me! You aren’t dead and your brain must be working as well as a wormy brain like yours can. You could think enough to shield me, anyway, which, by the way, you’ve got to stop doing! I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, and you should be doing a better fucking job of protecting yourself because you suck at it and I’m beginning to think you can’t be left alone for a second. You’re worse than a newborn baby with a hand grenade.
She winced.I wasn’t alone. You were here and I still got nailed, so fuck off.And can you take twenty percent off the top, Junior? You’re giving me a headache.
It goes with your broken ribs.
Despite his irritation, his volume decreased.
A newborn with a hand grenade? Did I really hear you say that?
Are you really judging my metaphor?
It’s stupid. Newborns can’t even hold a tissue, much less a hand grenade. And how would they pull the pin?
I am not having this conversation.
You broke my ribs.Burning bands of fire circled her chest, and every time she breathed, knives skewered her.
You’re welcome. Your heart stopped. I kept you alive. Wait a moment.
A warm soothing flowed into her, dousing the fire and dissolving the knives. It ran through her then faded, taking with it every little ache or pain.
You can sit up.
I’m taking a moment.
“Take it later. Your mate is coming, and you need to calm him before everybody dies. Not me, of course, since he’s smart enough to remember that hurting me hurts you, but everybody else.”
So’la put his arm under her shoulder and helped her sit up. She felt weak as that newborn with the hand grenade.
“My dress is ruined,” she said, noting a tear in the skirt and sure that the back of it was a mess from where she’d fallen.
“You do realize you can do magic, right? It’s a pretty easy fix. In fact…”
Magic slid around her, and her dress and shoes returned to fresh-out-of-the-box condition.
So’la gripped her chin and turned her head side to side while looking into her eyes. She had no idea what he was looking for.
