Elise didn't knowhow tofakehealing someone. No, nothealing. Doctoring. What was she supposed to do?
There was a bit of sweat on Cole's forehead, so she wiped that away. Then she checked his pulse. Yup, still beating. All good. She adjusted his blankets like that might do something and hoped she was looking productive.
The werewolf in the corner wasn't helping.
Javi was watching her with very intense eyes, tracking every move like she might stab Cole if he looked away. He kept tapping his finger against the padded arm of the loveseat he was sitting in, and she sensed a whole lot of restless energy inside of him.
She got the idea that hewantedto talk but was forcing himself to play the stoic jailer role.
A part of her wished it was Nico in that chair instead.
Which was insane.
Nico had kidnapped her. If she was going to develop some kind of Stockholm syndrome crush on anyone, shouldn't it be the guy who seemed uncomfortable with this whole hostage situation? Javi seemed decent. He'd even apologized last night when Reece got aggressive.
But no. Her body had to be all traitorous and get hot for her kidnapper.
She sat down in the uncomfortable folding chair that had been set up for her next to Cole's bed and tried to cage her own restless energy. Her magic was roiling beneath her skin, begging to be let out and beuseful. Whatever was wrong with the werewolf alpha, she could heal him.
And get herself killed in the process.
She shoved the healing instinct down deep. She couldn't even risk a magical scan of Cole's body with Javi ten feet away. He'd scent the magic, call in the cavalry, and then she'd be torn to witchy ribbons.
She needed to figure a way out of this mess. Living in a werewolf house, sleeping in Nico's bed—or, well, tossing and turning in Nico's bed—had her anxiety in high gear and she didn't know how long she could last.
Elise wanted to run so bad she was curling her fingers into fists to keep herself from sprinting for the French doors and throwing herself of the balcony, like she could somehow miraculously learn how to fly.
"I have to pee," Javi said suddenly, standing up and looking at her like he needed permission.
Elise looked over at him. "By all means. Don't let me stop you."
He walked toward Cole's en-suite and left the door wide open.
"What the hell are you thinking?" Elise snapped. "Close the damn door."
Javi poked his head back out, looking almost sheepish. "I'm supposed to be watching you this whole time."
She held her hands out to either side, palms up. "We're on the second floor. What do you expect me to do in thirty seconds, learn to fly? Let's have a little privacy, okay?"
"Uh …" He shifted his weight. "It might be more of a number two situation."
Oh god.
"I'm still going to be here. I promise not to smother Cole with a pillow." And she really,reallydidn't want to smell werewolf farts. Or worse.
Javi hesitated, then nodded and closed the door.
Elise stared at the closed bathroom door for a beat. She hadn't actually been planning to try anything. She'd resigned herself to playing the role of incompetent-but-trying veterinarian until her sisters found her or Nico decided she'd outlived her usefulness.
But, well, now she had an opportunity. And she'd be an idiot not to seize it.
She looked down at Cole, and her powers simmered right beneath her skin. She could send a wave into him and start the healing process; she could figure out what was wrong andfixit.
But the bathroom was so close. Magic had a scent—not a physical smell exactly, but something supernatural creatures could sense if they were close enough. She had no idea how far away a werewolf would need to be to not pick up on it.
The bathroom definitely wasn't far enough.
Her eyes landed on the doors that led to the balcony.
