I could feel my heart rate rising, sweat rolling down my face, tears falling without warning. The fear and loss were palpable. I felt every regret, every mistake I’d made to get to that point. I was fighting the warning, thrashing against this possible future and threat. They were gone, beyond my reach, and I was yelling out to find them, bring them back to me.
“Henry!”
In the distant darkness on the edge of my terrible dream, I thought I heard a familiar voice calling my name. His fear and worry drifted on the waves of sleep, pulling me further under than even the dreams could reach. If I fell into this abyss, I might never be able to rise again.
The voice on the wind of my mind had a name. I thought of blond curls, blue eyes, broad shoulders, and strong hands. Henry. That was the name, but I couldn’t have him. It was so unfair to find someone I wanted and not be able to have him. I knew I could wind up drifting here forever, but the lack of pain and cessation of worry was so tempting. Over five hundred years, I’d walked the realms fighting for good and peace. If I couldn’t have the one person that I wanted in all that time, wasn’t I entitled to some peace at last?
Chapter 6
Henry
Something was horribly wrong with Finn.
I hadn’t noticed when he’d come back from his walk. I’d run away like a cowardly kid. He’d seemed tired when he was with the baby, but I hadn’t thought much about it. I didn’t notice until now, thinking back, how he struggled to get up off the floor and go up the stairs earlier.
And now? He had just fallen down the stairs, would have face-planted if I hadn’t caught him first. Now he had collapsed into a fevered sleep for no apparent reason. I’d never heard of a Mage getting sick like this.
This is so not good.
I passed my hands over his body on the bed, searching with my energy for anything magical that could be to blame. As soon as I got to his legs, I found what I was looking for.
The scratch on his leg had probably started out as something small, but it was definitely not small now. There was a deep red circle around the wound with red vines of magic spreading quickly from it up his leg, infecting his blood supply, taking him over one vein at a time. I followed the spidery lines of poison up his leg to see how far along it was. Lifting up his kilt for the first time should have been a much different experience, but there was no time for sexy times now. He had to live through whatever was infecting him first. I’d found someone I finally felt something for. I would be even more eternally damned than I already was before I’d let him get away from me now.
The lines of magical venom hadn’t made it further than his upper thigh yet, but the overall poisoning had already taken its toll. I didn’t have any time to waste. Whipping out my phone, I called the one person in all the realms who could help me. Taking a deep breath, I prepared for this conversation as the line started ringing.
“Hieronymus Mikhail Morningstar, why have you not called me for six years?”
I cringed hearing my given name. My parents had been bold in their choices of names for all their offspring. God help us. Not that he would.
“It’s only been six weeks, Mother.” I heard her huff and knew she was probably waving her hand in the air in frustration as she always did.
“Well, anyway. You know that Earth realm time is confusing to me.”
“Yes, I’m aware, Mother. But I don’t have time to chit-chat. I need your help.”
Immediately her tone changed from chiding to concern.
“What’s the matter, dear? What’s happened?”
Deciding not to give too much information, mostly so I wouldn’t get into huge trouble, I decided to skirt the truth. It would be faster and easier on everyone if I could get the help that I needed from her without having to answer a lot of questions first. Finn was starting to thrash around on the bed every few minutes now. Time was running out.
“I’m fine, Mother, but I need your advice on healing. There’s a paranormal that I’ve met, and they’ve been poisoned or something with a scratch. How do I find out what it is so I can counteract it?”
I heard the heavy sigh through the phone and knew it was a combination of relief and frustration.
“I’ve told you time and again, don’t get involved in the lives of paranormals, dear. It can only lead to trouble. We do best to stick to our realm and our people. You know this.”
“Mom, listen. I don’t have time to argue with you about our decision to stay in seclusion. I have a friend who is going to die if I can’t help them. Now, walk me through this. Please?”
I rarely called my mother mom anymore, and I knew better than to raise my voice, so when I did both, she knew I was serious, and all arguing ceased.
“Okay, dear. You say it’s a scratch? What does it look like?”
I took a few minutes to explain what the wound looked like and
