The idea of this being unjust does not fully strike me at that moment, while there is no time to ponder it.
As the vamps skitter and stalk from above, I make the decision before I can think better of it. I grab the wolf’s enormous hand, surprised by the warmth of it. He looks over at me, eyes wide and deep and brown at this proximity, and somehow comforting in the stolen moment.
The vamps stalk closer.
If they are going to make a move, they must make it now. The houses and buildings on either side of us are a little nicer now, and there is less rubbish on the street. Ahead, the street lights are more ornate, the businesses more upscale.
I reach deep inside, deeper than I’ve had to reach for quite a while, and pull up a kernel of power, using it to cast a protective shield around us. The effort makes me stumble, and if not for the wolf holding onto me, I would hit the concrete in a jumble.
He catches me before I can fall, scooping me up as two vamps slam into the magical shield I’ve casted around us, rebounding off of it like birds upon clean windows. I cringe and grit my teeth.
I am aware of being in the wolf’s arms, his body like a furnace against mine, but that is about all I can process.
My breath is stolen from me as we cross over the magical border. I hear a gasp escape from him as well. He stops in his tracks as soon as we are within safety.
I am cradled against his wide chest like a child, and for a moment, all I can do is stare at him, can only live in the brown of his eyes.
Somewhere in the near distance, I hear screaming sirens, but I pay them no mind. It seems all the two of us can do is hold still and take sharp breaths as we stare at each other.
Then he sets me on my feet, putting me down like some fragile thing, like he is afraid he might break me, keeping hold of my elbows for a few long seconds to ensure that I am steady. Then backing a single step away, as if having just remembered that he ought not get too close.
“Put your hands up!” comes the command as bright lights swing toward us.
Red and blue flickers off the sidewalk, the buildings.
I shield my eyes with my arm. It takes me a moment to make the connection.
I do not know what is happening. I think only that I am safe, within the borders of Old City, where witches hold strong.
And I am not wrong. I am safe, being what I am and looking like I do.
But that is a pondering that won’t occur until later, either.
The wolf beside me has a different reaction to seeing the boys in blue. He turns to run.
And I stand there like a fucking idiot, dazed and confused.
Someone yells, “Stop!”
I shudder, gasping as the night explodes with gunshots. The sound pounds against my eardrums.
I am looking at the wolf as he tries to flee… and is struck several times in the back with bullets. I watch in abject horror as little sprays of blood explode from between his shoulders, at his waist.
I scream. Or I try to. The sound is lost in the column of my throat, rebounding through my head.
I think what escapes me now is half gasp, half cry.
I go to him. I don’t think about doing it; I just do. I move toward the bleeding male on the sidewalk, the one who had just finished saving my life. I fall to my knees beside him, eyes wide at the gaping wounds in his back.
No, I think. This is not right. This cannot be right…
What the fuck was even happening?
I don’t know what I have left in me. I only know it is not enough.
I pull on my magic, anyway, begging it to kindle and flow. Just a little healing magic, Dear Goddess, I pray. Please, just a little.
But as I hover over him, hands poised above his back, no light appears in my palms.
Only red and blue flashes in the dark.
His cheek is upon the pavement, his brown eyes meet mine.
As a healer, I have watched people die before. I know what it looks like just before the light leaves their eyes. It is the stuff of nightmares, the expressions of ghosts.
I place my hand on his cheek, his beard rough beneath my palm, and I whisper a prayer to the Goddess, asking her to see him safely to the homeland.
Then I am lifted off my feet, ripped away by pale arms lined with black tattoos.
I blink and see that it is one of the officers, dragging me away from the body of the wolf he and his boys just shot.
For no good fucking reason at all.
3 2:45 a.m.
I started this day bringing a new life into the world.
And immediately followed that up by witnessing the departure of another.
The blessings and heartaches of being a healer, my mother used to say. Fuck if that hadn’t turned out to be true.
Now, I sit in a room that is too bright, a cup of shitty, untouched coffee on the table in front of me.
I don’t know what time it is, or how in the hell I got here. I feel like the events of the last several hours cannot be real.
But I keep seeing his eyes, the deep brown of them. I keep feeling the warmth of his hand in mine.
Then I feel cold all over.
I don’t know what is going to happen now. I am too tired and shocked to think straight.
The door to the room opens, and in walks a woman and a man. They have a look about them that marks them as law
