Chapter 7
Simon rubbed slow circles on his aching stomach while holding a damp cloth over his eyes. A mug of cooling chamomile tea sat on his bedside table, a book of herbal home remedies open beside it.
Nothing he’d tried seemed to help, and Simon considered making a trip to the clinic in town to see if he had the flu or something. His magic had never made him feel bad before, but maybe something was wrong there. He hadn’t been feeling quite right since the demon had attacked him.
He couldn’t remember ever feeling this unwell.
His grandmother used to tease him that he had inherited his grandfather’s healthy constitution.
Every fall he battled hay fever, and he took St. John’s Wort daily to help his stress levels, but other than that, he didn’t get sick.
Headaches, stomachaches, general weakness, and being tired weren’t exactly life-threatening symptoms, but the fact that none of his treatments had helped for nearly a week concerned Simon.
It was times like these when Simon wished he had a man in his life. It would be nice to have someone to make him a fresh pot of tea and to run the damp cloth over his eyes through some water to cool it down. Heck, just someone to snuggle up next to him and rub his hair would be nice.
With a groan, Simon pushed his patchwork quilt aside and struggled his way out of bed. He snagged his too-cool tea from the nightstand and went into the kitchen for a new mug.
He wondered if he should call Master Thomas and ask for help.
Simon acknowledged he’d been pushing himself very hard magically over the past few days, determined to prove his ability to become a full mage.
From sunup to sundown, he worked on his magic.
He kept himself centered and accomplished most of the tasks Master Thomas had left for him after their disastrous visit earlier in the week.
Waiting for the kettle to boil seemed to take an eternity. He was hungry but couldn’t really convince himself to eat. The thought of even a saltine cracker made his stomach roll. He nibbled on one anyway, hoping it would help a little.
The kettle whistled and Simon poured the hot water over a diffuser of his herbal tea mixture.
While it steeped, he wondered if Master Thomas had heard back from the Conclave of Mages.
His actions would have been reported by now, but since he’d never been in any kind of trouble before, magical or otherwise, he wasn’t sure exactly what the process was.
With a quiet sigh, he dumped the used tea leaves into the trash and went back to bed. He sipped his tea and read through his book, thankful when the chamomile started doing its job, relaxing his tense belly and easing some of the nausea. Maybe all he needed was a good night’s sleep.
Sometime later, Simon sat up quickly in bed and looked around the room. Nothing seemed out of place, and he didn’t hear any noises. He blinked away the remnants of sleep and focused on his surroundings. Something was wrong. He could feel it.
His body ached when he stood up and pulled on his robe.
His thin flannel pajama pants and T-shirt didn’t protect him from the chill in the night air.
The cold wood floors against his bare feet made Simon wish for a pair of warm slippers.
He made a quick pass through the cabin but didn’t find anything unusual.
It must have been a dream. He paused at the thermostat and considered turning the heat on but resisted the urge.
It would warm up later, and he would regret the wasted energy.
Simon went back to his bedroom, the need for sleep pulling desperately at his tired body.
Before he could settle back beneath the covers, he felt a slight pull against his magic.
It made his head ache even more, and he pressed a hand to his forehead to combat the pain.
He opened his magic just a little, the throb in his head more intense at that small use.
Simon could sense someone hovering at the edge of his awareness.
All he could feel was fear and pain. His thoughts immediately turned to the cubs.
He whispered Hello in his mind and jerked in surprise when a weak and quiet answer came through.
Simon? Is that you?
It took a moment for Simon to recognize the voice as Garon’s. Garon? It’s me, Simon. What’s wrong?
I don’t feel very good, and I can’t wake up, and my dad can’t hear me. Can you help me?
I have your dad’s cell phone number. Let me call him, okay?
Okay. Simon, will you stay with me?
No problem, big guy. Just let me grab my phone.
Simon stumbled into his office and unplugged his phone from its charger. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Gray’s listing and hit Send. As the phone rang, he sent comforting thoughts through to Garon.
Gray’s voice was muffled and low when he answered. “Hello.”
“Gray, it’s Simon.”
“Simon? It’s two in the morning.”
“I know. Sorry to wake you, but I need for you to go check on Garon.”
Simon heard the rustle of quickly moved bed covers. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. He called to me mentally and is scared.”
Simon could hear Gray’s footsteps and then a door opening. “Garon?” There wasn’t a response. “Garon. Wake up, son.” Still no response. “Simon, he’s not waking up. What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure. Let me see if I can talk to him again. Hold on.” Simon focused his mind back on Garon. Garon? Your dad is there with you. Can you tell me what you are feeling?
Garon’s voice was very weak when he answered. I don’t know. Just bad. And I can’t wake up. Simon, can you come over?
With only the slightest pause, Simon answered, I’m on my way.
I’m really scared. Will you tell my dad to stay with me?
Of course. He’s not going to leave you. I promise. Let me talk to your dad again for a second, okay? Just hang on, and I’ll be there to help.
Simon refocused on the phone at his ear. “Gray, Garon is asking me to come and help him. I told him I would.” While he talked, Simon grabbed his car keys from the hall table and shoved his feet into his bright yellow Crocs.
“You can help?” Gray asked.
“I don’t know. But I’m going to try.”
“I’ll call the gate and let them know to let you in.”
“See you in a few. Call me if there are any changes.”
“I will.” Gray hung up the phone as Simon started his car.
It seemed to take forever for Simon to get to the pack’s compound. He drove as fast as he could. He talked to Garon through their mind-link, the only way he knew to comfort the scared little boy.
By the time he arrived, his anxiety was at an all-time high and threatened to overwhelm him. He tried to keep his fear hidden from Garon.
The gate opened the moment he arrived. Two guards waited for him. The big bald guy—Cade, Simon thought—came to the passenger door and tried to open it. Simon’s doors locked automatically, and he fumbled with the switch to get them open.
When the lock clicked, Cade pulled the door open and got into the car. “Go,” he commanded.
So Simon went down the dark road into the compound. It required his total concentration, the headlights barely lighting the path in front of him. They reached a T in the road.
“Left,” Cade directed.
Simon turned left.
Cabins lined the path, tucked back into the woods. Simon barely noticed them, keeping his eyes on the drive. The narrow road made him nervous, and he tried to keep from slipping off the edge of the graveled area. “Stop here,” Cade said.
Simon’s brain took an extra moment to relay the message to his foot, and the car came to a stuttering stop.
He parked in the middle of the road, but before he could ask where he should go, Cade jumped out of the car and came around to Simon’s side.
He moved fast and had opened Simon’s door before Simon could even gather his thoughts.
Simon blinked at him a moment, his head and stomach aching fiercely and his thoughts racing.
Cade reached in, grabbed Simon’s arm, and pulled him out of the car onto the pavement. Simon stumbled, his body not accepting his commands. I’m here, Garon, he whispered through the link. I’ll be right beside you in a moment.
He didn’t get a reply.
Cade led him into a large house, but Simon couldn’t even focus enough to take in his surroundings. He knew there were stairs and remembered climbing them and Cade’s arm steadying him as they went.
Gray stood in front of a door. Simon felt a slight ease in his aching body in the alpha’s presence. It came right back the moment he stepped into the room and saw Garon’s small body curled up on his twin bed.
The blankets were dark blue, nearly black in the darkness of the room. As Simon got closer, he could make out little stars and planets decorating them. “Can you turn on a light?” he whispered. Gray turned on the little lamp on Garon’s bedside table.
Simon’s eyes were drawn to Garon’s face, his pale cheek resting against a yellow circle that must be the sun.
He ran his hand over Garon’s forehead and felt the unsettling coolness of his skin.
Simon knelt beside him and brushed Garon’s hair back.
With a deep breath to fortify himself, he opened his magic.
He cried out in pain. Something was there, inside the boy. Something magical, and it drained Garon of any magic he held. Simon couldn’t grasp more than that through his own agony. Something was hurting Garon.
He heard a frantic voice behind him, Gray’s words loud in the otherwise quiet room. “Simon, what is it?”
Simon shook his head, waving Gray away. This couldn’t wait for explanations. Garon didn’t have enough time for that. Whatever this thing was, it had to be stopped before it killed Garon.
He heard Gray’s voice again in the background. “Call Aunt Maggie. Get her here. Call the other parents. Have them check the rest of the kids.”
Oh God, Simon thought, the others. He couldn’t worry about them now. They weren’t here. Garon was. He had to fix this before he could do anything for the rest of them.
Simon concentrated and tried to get a feel for the magic.
There. He could just see the little lines of current sucking power away from Garon’s magical core.
A dark spell, different from anything Simon had ever seen before, stole the life from this little boy, eating away at him from the center of his being.
A nebulous void, it surged and sparked with each passing second as it fed on Garon’s life force.
Simon felt the moment the parasite became aware of him, of his magic.
He sensed it reaching out to him, trying to attach itself to him in its hungry quest for more, but it couldn’t breach his shields and turned back to finish draining the little energy left in the boy.
The light around Garon’s small body faded, the dim glow of his aura barely visible.
Simon tried to deflect the lines using a simple distraction spell. Nothing. He tried to unweave the magic, move them outside of Garon and away from his core. Nothing. He created a bubble around it. Nothing worked. He banged his hand on the bed in frustration.
In a panic, Simon opened himself wider and dropped his shields completely, something he had never done outside the security of his own home.
He did the only thing he could think of and grabbed hold of the thing that leeched the life out of Garon.
With every bit of power his magic possessed, he yanked at that dark void and ripped it away from the dying boy.
He felt himself falling, the thud of the carpeted floor against his back, and then the slam as the spell that attacked Garon turned on him. Simon couldn’t stop it. With his magical barriers down, he was unable to keep the leech out of his body.
The dark magic began to attack Simon’s core, and his body started shaking. He wouldn’t be able to hold it off for long, but he had to if he hoped to help Garon survive. He rolled over to his knees and saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
One set of feet passed him, but the other remained in his vision. A warm hand pressed on the center of his back. He flinched away from the touch, afraid the magic would try to find yet another victim before he could contain it. He crawled his way back to the bed.
It wasn’t going to get another piece of this boy, but Garon wouldn’t make it if he didn’t have some help. While he wrapped that nasty leech tight into himself, Simon divided his magic, willed it into two pieces. One trapped the dark spell inside him.
When he had it contained, he clenched Garon’s hand in his and fed the rest of his magic to Garon. He heard the springs creak on the bed and heard muffled voices, like shouting underwater. Gray, calling frantically to his son, he reasoned.
Simon watched Garon’s body buck, heard more angry shouts behind him. Garon’s eyes fluttered open and locked on Simon’s.
“Simon, no!” Garon’s voice surprised them all.
Gray and Cade responded instantly to the strength of his plea.
Too late, Simon thought. He smiled at Garon and felt himself being jerked away.
He landed on the floor, Cade’s hand on his chest, holding him down.
He turned his head toward the bed and watched Gray grab his son, saw their arms wrapping tightly around each other.
Garon spoke, but Simon couldn’t seem to make out the words. He was okay, though. Nothing else mattered. Both sets of clear blue eyes turned to him.
Simon tried to smile again, but it didn’t work. He met Gray’s stare and acknowledged the gratitude in them. It was enough. He closed his eyes.