“That wolf—I mean, Squirrel Butler, in the mines. He must have torn one of my feathers out. Mordecai found one down there and went off.” I gritted my teeth. “I handled him. I’m fine.”
“No,” he barked. “You’re not fine, Reagan.” He started pacing then, cursing under his breath. “You can’t stay here. We can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous, and if Mordecai finds more clues of your involvement last night, he’ll kill you.” He stopped and stared a hole through the carpet. “I think we need to go into hiding. The rebels have a safe place.”
I brushed my fingers over the swollen spot on my cheek. The whole area was tender, from my cheekbone to my eyebrow, and I wondered how bad the bruising looked. I sighed. “Tarik, I can do more in my Enforcer position and you know that. Right now I have enough power to make things happen. Take that away and what do I have? This is my life.” I looked away from him, anywhere but at him. The rage was sputtering into tension. Bursts of energy zipped through me. I rocked on my feet. “You can leave if you want to. But I don’t think Mordecai is much of a threat to me.”
I told him everything—the entire meeting, from Mordecai being late, to his tantrum, to the fact that I had shifted—not excluding the fact that I had never shifted on him before. Never. I hadn’t dared. I stammered when I reached the end, the part that revealed my own cowardice. He was braver than me. Tarik wouldn’t have hesitated. But I pushed on.
When I finished I glanced up at Tarik, trying to gauge his reaction.
He chewed on his lip, so aggressively that I wondered if he drew blood. After a full minute, he deflated, shoulders drooping. “This is your decision. I can’t force you to leave, but . . .” He sighed, searching my face. “Promise me something?”
“What?”
His eyes narrowed. “Promise me you’ll be careful. Promise you’ll never turn your back on that devil. There’s something . . . off about him. When I was strapped to that cot and he was—” He looked away, throat convulsing. “He’s desperate for something. Desperate people are unpredictable. And extremely dangerous. Promise you’ll keep your head down.”
My hand twitched. In my mind, I strode across the room and touched his arm, his face. Comforted him. In reality, I resisted. He had drawn lines, ones that he kept erasing and redrawing. I wasn’t ready to meet another dead end. A lump grew in my throat. Even if comforting him felt appropriate to me, he would retreat. I knew he would. So I did nothing.
I sighed. “Sure. I promise.”
“Good,” he murmured, gaze resting on my swollen right cheek, then my jaw where another bruise was probably showing. He deliberated, opening and closing his mouth. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and strode for the hallway, throwing over his shoulder, “Come here. I need to show you something.”
Confused, I trailed behind him. Tarik had slipped into the guest room and sat on the bed, his hands held nervously behind his back.
“Sit.” He gestured to a spot on the mattress next to him and I perched timidly on the edge. What was he up to? His gaze slid over me, then jerked to the ceiling as he muttered to himself. All I heard was “skin.” I glanced down at myself. What? He yanked his shirt off and thrust it at me. “Put this on or I can’t have this conversation.”
I rolled my eyes, but did as instructed.
Then waited.
And waited.
Tarik shook his head, pulling his hand out from behind him. “I’ve been able to do this for as long as I can remember and . . . I want to show you. May I?” He gestured to my injured cheek.
I swallowed. “Um. Sure?”
He scooted closer and brought a knee up onto the bed, boxing me in. Without taking his eyes off mine, he whispered, “Here goes nothing,” then raised both his hands, gently cupping my cheeks.
My heart tried to force its way up my throat. Lines. We were crossing lines. Weren’t we? No, this was innocent. But something tugged at me, a reminder that Fae weren’t keen on touching, especially not shifters. No. I couldn’t think like that. Instead, I held his stare. Waited.
At first, nothing happened, and I had the urge to fidget. Then a warm tingle spread over my swollen cheek and eye, making me jump.
“It’s okay,” Tarik said. “I’m only taking away the pain and a bit of the swelling. I’ll leave the bruises so Mordecai won’t suspect anything.”
Before I was ready, he pulled away. I brushed a finger across my cheekbone. Smooth. The swelling was effectively taken care of. My eyebrows pinched together. “How?”
He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I was told stories about the first Fae to cross into this realm, how they were able to perform miracles. I know many of your kind still think we’re witches, that we have dark magic. But I’ve never met another Fae who could heal with a single touch. Then last night, when my legs were nothing but pulp orange juice, I was able to heal them completely. I’ve never been able to heal an injury that severe before. And so . . .”
He held up a green rock with a flourish, it’s multi-faceted surface winking. “I came to the conclusion that this Genesis Crystal stuff has hidden magical powers or something. Boosts my healing abilities, if you will.”
I leapt to my feet, backing away a step. “Isn’t that stuff dangerous?”
He looked at the rock, then me. “Well, I’m not growing two heads or anything. At least . . . not yet.” A smirk tipped his lips. “Why, is the big bad Night Enforcer scared of a rock?”
“Maybe.” I swallowed, eyes locked on the green crystal. I retreated another step.
A wolfish grin stretched his mouth wide as he slowly
