Brodie finished stripping off his shirt. His muscular body gleamed in the dim lamplight, and the shadows only seemed to heighten the contours of his honed physique. The tattoos on his arms swirled up across his shoulders and over his pectoral muscles, drawing my attention to his broad, defined chest. I wanted to flatten my palms against it, to glide them up and down the ridges of muscle, then trace those gleaming tattoos with my fingertips. Instead, I curled my now-twitching fingers to keep myself from giving into temptation.
“Yer Watcher blood makes ye stronger and faster than the average human,” Brodie told me. “Did ye never notice that ye were different from others?”
I frowned. Suddenly, Brodie was standing in front of me, waving a hand in front of my face. “Hello? Lass, can ye hear me?”
“Sorry.” I stumbled back into the dresser, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Are ye all right?” Brodie grabbed me by the shoulders, steadying me. He studied me intently, his features taut with concern. “Ye seemed to disappear on me there for a moment, lass.”
The heat from his hands seeped into my body, soothing me, and I let out a breath. “Yeah. I get these… episodes, sometimes, where I blank out. They’re called absence seizures.”
He frowned. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Do they last long?”
I shook my head. “I never know how much time passes, but I’ve been told by others that they’ve never seen me blank out for more than three minutes.” I hesitated. “How long was I out?”
“A good five minutes.” Brodie stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is there any sort of commonality associated with these seizures of yours?”
I shrugged. “Stress, I guess.” The doctors hadn’t been able to figure it out beyond that. And I certainly was stressed out. Uncomfortable, I changed the subject. “Why didn’t you heal yourself?”
“Eh?” Brodie blinked, and then laughed softly. “We’re still on the bruise, eh? It doesna hurt very much, lass, and besides, I cannae heal myself. That talent can only be used on others.”
“What about those healing patches you brought?”
“Those are for emergencies,” Brodie said. “I used that one on ye earlier because I wanted to conserve my magic at the time. And I’d prefer to save the rest for a broken bone or some other such thing. Dinnae worry about me, lass,” he said, his tone gentling. “I’ve suffered worse. Why don’t we put the TV on, and ye can relax while I shower and change?”
Brodie picked up the remote and switched on the TV. I turned around to look at it, then stiffened as the local news blared to life. Fire trucks gathered around a two-story house in the suburbs of Portland that was completely ablaze. A house that lookedwaytoo familiar.
“My house,” I choked out, tears springing to my eyes. “My house is on fire.”
“Oh, lass.” Brodie’s arms came around me from behind. “I’m sorry. They must have gone there to find ye.”
We watched silently for a few moments. The fire was being broadcast live—it had started only thirty minutes ago. Tears streamed down my face as I watched the place I’d grown up in, the place I’d lived with my parents, crumble into ashes. My childhood home, my inheritance, and all my belongings, were gone. Forever.
And I wasn’t even there to try and save it.
“We have to go back.” I spun around, breaking free of Brodie’s grip. “I can’t leave like this. Get your keys—we’re leaving.”
“Lass!” Brodie grabbed my arm as I stormed past, spinning me back around. “There’s nothing to go back to! Yer house is beyond saving.”
“You don’t know that!” Fury burned up every bit of rational thought, and I railed against him, trying to break his grip. “Let go of me, asshole!”
Brodie only pulled me tighter against him. “If ye go back there,” he murmured into my hair as I struggled, “the Demonkin will be waiting. Yer parents would not want ye to come back only to give up yer life.”
I stilled, my anger subsiding a little at the thought of my parents. Oh, how I wished they were here to tell me what to do! My defenses crumbled, and I dissolved into tears. Brodie stroked my head and held me as I cried, murmuring soothing words even as I soaked his bare skin with my tears.
“There, there, lass,” he said as my tears finally slowed. His big hands rubbed slow circles up and down my back. “Yer all right. Everything will be okay.” He scooped me into his arms, then carried me toward the bed. My arms tightened around his neck as he lowered me onto the mattress—I didn’t want to let him go. “Dinnae worry,” he said gently, his warm breath ghosting against my cheek. “I won’t be far. You rest now.”
And so I did, turning my face into the pillow and willing my dreams to take me away from this nightmare.
9
Arabella
Something dark slid sinuouslyalong the edge of my mind, sending a chill through me. Part of me knew I should pay attention to it, but I was so tired that I turned my face into the pillow, willing myself to sink back into unconsciousness. God, but why couldn’t I sleep in peace? A few more hours… I just needed a few more hours.
“Lass! Lass, wake up!”
I jolted awake at the sound of Brodie’s voice, which was rife with urgency. He was squatted down at the edge of the bed in front of me, his face tense. “There are Demonkin out in the parking lot,” he whispered, handing me a sheathed hunting knife. “Ye aren’t equipped to deal with them yet, so keep this close to ye and let me handle—”
