The team snapped to attention. Ezra’s protest died mid-snarl.
Behind her, Remi lingered like a shadow, his usually playful face unreadable. But when his eyes met mine, they held a warning that sent ice down my spine.
He knows something.
My stomach dropped. That rant about government branding and cells? She’d heard every word.
I took an involuntary step back, my heel hitting the wall. Who would take care of Ivan and Grandpa if they locked me up? And how long before Angel faded without me?
The heart monitor’s steady beep sounded like a countdown.
23
“Did you just wish a teammate dead?”Hanna aimed a deadly glare at Ezra.
He took a step back, flinching as if punched. “No, I wouldn’t…”
Her gaze silenced his protest. “You’re on leave pending eval.”
Ezra sputtered.
“Is everyone else okay?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Kerry and Victor were on the roof when everything went nuts.”
“Everyone’s fine,” Hanna cut in, though her gaze lingered on Angel’s bandaged hand. “Recovering.” Then, to me, “And you?”
I dabbed at my nose. The bleeding had slowed, but the gauze came away rust-red. “Just a headache.”
“I need reports.”
Ezra opened his mouth, no doubt to fill his verbal report with my incompetence, but Hanna silenced him with a raised hand. “Written. Through the portal. I want to know what the hell happened, but…” Her sharp gaze swept the room. “I suspect I’ll get at least a half dozen different versions.” Her attention snapped back to Angel, then me. “Once filed, everyone’s on leave until he recovers.”
The room erupted with protests.
“What?” Bobby asked.
“We have cases we can review while he recovers,” Wade protested.
Ezra’s snarl was pure outrage.
Only Angel and I stayed silent. I clenched the bloody gauze in my fist as a wave of heat rolled through the room, thick as a sauna, stinging like a slap. The protests died instantly.
Holy fuck. That power had come from Hanna.
“Angel’s leave will likely only last a few days. With Ezra pending eval, you’re short even without Jude.” Her focus pinned me. “You’re on leave until you can control your power.”
The words hung in the air.
Wade cleared his throat. “And if he can’t? Without help?”
Hanna folded her arms. “Then I will relinquish him to alternative authorities.”
My stomach dropped; my fear close to becoming realized. “I’m trying.”
The nurse, her own glowing armband now glaringly obvious, patted Angel’s shoulder. “He’s healing faster than he should. The necrotic tissue mostly dissolved before I could cut it away.” Her stare landed on me, clinical and curious. “Never seen a bond heal physical trauma like that. Not from a non-shifter to a shifter. Normally it’s the other way around, a simple speed of mending cells. This was as if the burned tissue disintegrated, leaving a clean slate for healing. There may be a remaining scar, though I suspect it will be minimal.”
“What about loss of movement? Either in his bipedal or shifted form?” Hanna asked.
“Remains to be seen, but I suspect not. We can do scans, but it will be better if he can shift first to heal the last of it,” the nurse said.
