The door at the end opened, and a tall, willowy woman glided in, wearing a plain, long gray gown. It flowed like mist as she moved. But there was nothing ordinary about her, not with her braided hair gleaming like sunlight, revealing the perfect contours of an angelic face.
“Taegér.” She smiled. “It’s been a while since we had a patient.”
He fingered the leather cuffs he wore. “Yeah.”
The woman glanced at the bed and stopped dead, her smile slipping. “Him?” Her eyes widened in shock. “How—you?”
“Not me, but those rebel fools,” Mohawk muttered, moving to the foot of the bed. “I have more sense than that. Pax is scouting for those troublemakers. They have no idea what—whom—they’re playing with.”
Leya frowned. They made it sound as if Aerén was some kind of dangerous criminal.
Scowling, she shot up and hurried to the bedside. “What do you mean?”
The woman looked up. Her jade-green eyes skated over Leya, taking in Aerén’s huge, overlong jacket she still wore, then shifted to Mohawk. “A human? What’s going on?”
“Look,” Leya broke in, fed up with this to-and-fro of a stilted conversation. “As I told him…” She stuck her thumb at Mohawk. “Aerén saved me. He was with me on Earth when a rebel appeared and started to break things at the garden center…” She explained what had occurred, leaving nothing out. “Aerén wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” she whispered, guilt weighing her down, “but he was protecting me. Please help him. He’s lost a lot of blood already.”
The woman cast another look at Mohawk, who shrugged. Then she said in a soothing, lilting voice. “Don’t panic. I’ll aid him. I’m Adara, a priestess and healer.”
The woman crossed to the opposite wall with shelves of bottles and containers and gathered what she needed, along with some fabric. She returned and set the things on the long table against the wall.
“I’m Leya. Can I help in any way?”
“Stay close,” Adara suggested, cutting his shirt right down the middle, revealing the dagger slice on his chest. “So he seesyouwhen he awakens.” Then she untied the strip of material around his waist, removed the blood-drenched shirt Leya used to bind the wound on his side, and dropped it on the table behind her. With a flick of a hand, a basin of water appeared on the nightstand. She cleaned the slowly healing lesion on his chest, then worked on the nasty hole on his side.
Several minutes later, she blew out a troubled breath. “This wound’s not healing as it should.”
“Yeah, I see that,” Mohawk—Taegér—muttered, his expression hardening. “I must apprise Sebris of the situation.”
Frowning, Leya watched him stride off, feeling like she was missing an important part of a massive puzzle. “Aerén said he was immortal, and he wouldn’t die…”
“No.” Adara continued cleaning the horrid injury. She placed a thick wad of soft, clean linen over it. “This isn’t a straightforward wound.”
“It was a demon who did this.”
The healer’s head popped up. “A demon?”
“Yes. He was with the rebel and was destroying things at my workplace. He flung something like a red bolt at me, and Aerén pushed me out of the way.”
Understanding dawned in Adara’s jade eyes. “This helps. I do have something. Our warriors tend to get injured by demons when their paths cross. I shall prepare an unguent. You cool him down. He’s far too hot. Use the water. Here.” She held out a cloth.
Leya hurried over and accepted the linen. She glanced at Aerén’s still form, the knot of worry tightening as she dipped the fabric in the cool water.
Adara reappeared and set a small, opaque bottle on the bedside table. “If he awakens, give him this potion. It will help ease the pain and weaken the demonic antigen.” Then she hustled off to the adjoining room.
Leya gently dabbed Aerén’s too-pale face, cleaning the bloody smears. She smoothed back his striking sky-blue hair with her free hand—
A ripple of his power flew out of him and raced over her, and she gasped. Bottles fell off the shelves. Bits of rubble broke off the stone wall, clattering to the floor.
Adara rushed back inside. “Oh, stars! Leya, get away from him.”
“What’s happening?” she demanded as Adara grabbed her and flashed them a safe distance from Aerén. His body jerked once then he lay deathly still again.
“His power needs to be expended—”
“What?” Leya gaped at the priestess.
The door flew open. A tall man strode inside, his hair gleaming like sheets of nickel and bronze. His pearlescent eyes flicked to her, then back to the bed. Taegér was at his side, and they both stopped at the bed.
