“Can you help him sit up? We need to see how aware he is.” Nevaeh jerked her head toward the door. “I’ll check on Elias. We can tell Sebastian.”
I nodded gratefully. She stepped around me, her quiet chatter filling the lab. Turning my attention back to Tarik, I brushed a finger up his arm. The muscles quivered under my touch, a small reassurance.
“Tarik?” I whispered softly, leaning closer to his face. “Can you hear me?”
His head turned slowly in my direction. He swallowed, then grimaced as though even that small action pained him. I waited, barely breathing as his eyes cracked open. Vivid, beautiful green. My heart skittered when they landed on me.
“Stalker,” he breathed.
The corner of my mouth quirked, but the tears renewed. I ignored them and reached out a tentative finger, brushing his forehead gently as I pushed away stray locks of hair. “Can you sit up? I’ll help you.”
He tried to smile and failed. “Oh, sure. No problem.” His arms shook as he propped himself up on an elbow, teeth clenched tight.
“Pull, and I’ll lift you.” I looped his arm around my waist, waiting until his fingers gripped my side to wrap my own around him, careful not to brush his wings as I tugged. When he was upright, I asked, “Can you tuck in your wings?”
A weak laugh left him and he flinched. “You ask a lot out of a guy, but since you’re trying to—” He hissed as he caught sight of his brutalized legs, then wrenched his gaze away. “Yeah. One sec.”
I waited, watching him struggle for a long, agonizing minute before his wings finally retracted.
“Thank you,” I whispered, shuffling myself around to face him. For a moment I simply watched him breathe, grateful, so grateful that he still did. I wanted to ease his pain—but what could I possibly do to fix this nightmare?
As my eyes darted over his face, I realized there might be one small consolation I could offer. Maybe I couldn’t help his pain, or heal him, but maybe I could start making this right. Carefully, I tilted his chin up, sliding my hands up to his cheeks. His expression was curious when I gently kissed his nose. I pressed my forehead to his. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wouldn’t leave you be. I’m sorry I bit you. I’m sorry he did this to you. I’m . . . I’m so sorry, Tarik. For everything.”
His eyes slid closed and he sighed, leaning into my touch. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. But I’ll take it all the same.”
“You didn’t deserve this,” I murmured, rubbing a thumb over the soft stubble that graced his jaw. “I’ll make this right. I don’t know how, but I will.”
He opened his eyes then, pulling away slightly to better see my face. “No, Reagan, you’ve done enough. This is too dangerous. You shouldn’t even be here. If your father finds out what you’re doing right now—” He cut himself off. Cursed softly. “I need you to do something for me, though.”
“Anything,” I said quietly, dropping my hands to my lap.
“I need you to get me a piece of the Genesis Crystal. I—” He grimaced, arms shaking again. “I need it.”
“Why, what do the crystals do?”
“They make me—” He panted, eyes growing distant as pain consumed him. “Stronger.”
I hesitated. Mordecai could have created an addiction, or he could be delusional with pain. In either case, I whispered, “Okay.”
Before I left the lab, I snitched a pair of surgical gloves. Whatever affects these crystals caused, I wanted no part. Mordecai had warned me against touching them since I was young, and since the men wore hazmat suits, there had to be more that I didn’t know. No one was in the hall as I crossed, but I could hear Elias complaining that Sebastian wasn’t moving fast enough—and Nevaeh, her voice low and comforting.
The crystals in the large cavern were everywhere, embedded in the walls and abandoned in mining bins—scattered haphazardly, a reminder of how hastily the Fae must have been tricked into the “for emergencies only” room. I grabbed a piece, eyeing the sparkling green suspiciously. My hand tingled. My skin crawled with the need to repel the crystal, to get it away from me, even through the glove. What is Tarik playing at? If this could help him though—if he knew something I didn’t . . .
I held the crystal at arm’s length as I walked back through the lab room, flinching when the rock fell into Tarik’s open palm.
His body jerked and I grimaced. He must have fallen asleep. A gusty sigh left him as he fisted the crystal. “That’s the stuff. Mordecai, you fool.”
My eyes rounded. I was right—the crystal was an addiction. I tried to pry the rock from his hand but his fist only tightened further. “Wait. It’s not hurting me, you’ll see.”
I had my doubts, especially when his brows drew together, lips thinning. His eyes slid shut and he groaned. Loudly. Then I heard a snap, the eerie sound echoing in the small space. I searched for the source, but found nothing out of place. The tray hadn’t moved, the cot’s straps lay dangling over the edges as before.
“Tarik? What are you—” My question fell off.
A crack came next and he hissed through bared teeth. “Healing,” he panted, “myself.”
I looked down to his mangled limbs and gasped. His left knee was slowly straightening. I watched in morbid fascination as the kneecap reformed, popping into the socket.
Tarik grunted. “That feels better.”
For several minutes I stared, glued to the sight of broken limbs reforming, bones adjusting beneath skin. When he finished, Tarik slumped forward, red hair shadowing his face. Air caught in my lungs. I brushed my fingertips over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He huffed a laugh. “But. Uh. I need you to do me one more tiny favor.”
I raised
