Chapter Eighteen
T he next morning, I flee to the garage like it’s a sanctuary.
The scent of oil and old leather lingers in the air, and the polished surfaces of the cars gleam in the soft post-dawn light. The whole tableau fills me with a bittersweet feeling, almost like nostalgia for something I haven’t yet lived past.
I’m not committed to staying here yet. Not formally. I haven’t said as much, even though it’s starting to feel inevitable. Especially after last night.
And maybe that’s I feel an obligation to check on the cars. To turn over that one last piece of the puzzle, feel out its edges and confirm that yes, this is it. This will put everything back together.
Because how could I ever leave? Really—how could I?
Idly, I run my fingers along the cool metal of a vintage Camaro—late 60s, blue, with rally stripes—it feels good. Like I’m doing something right. Like my presence alone is reassuring to the cars—healing, even.
It’s a ridiculous thought, but I don’t care. I’m lost in the process of examining the sleek lines of a BMW wagon (imported, only ever made for the German market) when I hear someone enter the garage, their footsteps light on the concrete floor. I glance up from the car and smile.
“Morning, Tuck,” I say, wiping my hands on a rag.
“Morning, Maren,” he replies, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He takes a deep breath, clearly trying to muster the right words. “I, uh, wanted to check in on you. After everything that happened yesterday.”
I nod. “I’m doing okay. It’s a lot to process, right? But I’m managing, I guess.”
Tuck shuffles a bit, his gaze shifting between me and the cars. “Yeah, I can imagine. It’s not every day you’re thrown into the middle of... well, everything that’s been going on.”
“Definitely not,” I agree, sensing that Tuck has more on his mind.
Sure enough, he clears his throat. “Actually, I also wanted to come talk to you about, um...your abilities.”
That stops me in my tracks. I set down the rag on the hood of the BMW.
“My abilities,” I repeat. It’s crazy to think that somehow, the fact that I have some sort of supernatural powers latent inside me has become an afterthought, but...well, I guess that’s what happens when you’re tangled up in a, what, shapeshifting polycule being pursued by the law?
“Yeah,” Tuck hurries on. “I couldn’t really sleep last night, no surprise. So I stayed up doing some research and, well, there’s not a ton of lore around any of this, you know, shifters and all that...we kind of just figure it out on our own, find each other, learn by trial and error, but there are some sources to investigate...”
I nod, trying to suppress a smile. His enthusiasm is both endearing and slightly overwhelming. I gesture for him to continue.
“Right.” Tuck pulls out a small notebook and flips it open, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “So, I’ve been digging into historical accounts and obscure texts—really obscure ones. Like, ancient manuscripts from the Far East and pre-Christian European folklore. There are references to people who experience physical sensations linked to emotional states, but they’re not always straightforward.”
He launches into an explanation, his voice quick and animated. “For instance, in some old Celtic legends, there’s mention of individuals who would experience physical symptoms—dizziness, nausea—when exposed to strong emotions. It’s thought that their powers might be somehow tied to their emotional state or their connection to the supernatural. Then there’s this obscure text from the Ming Dynasty that talks about similar symptoms in people who were believed to be under spiritual influence...”
His words start to blend together as he delves deeper into his research, describing various historical phenomena, magical practices, and ancient beliefs. I listen, my mind drifting as he goes off on tangents about magical ley lines and obscure rituals.
“...and then there’s the phenomenon in South American shamanistic traditions where...”
“Okay, Tuck,” I interrupt gently, raising a hand. “I appreciate all the research you’ve done, but maybe we can cut to the chase here?”
He blinks, snapping back to the present. “Oh! Right. Sorry, sorry. TL;DR, from what I’ve gathered, there’s plenty of evidence that your dizzy spells could be linked to your emotional responses and that’s what intensifies your powers.” Tuck fidgets with the edge of his notebook, clearly working up to something. “Point is, I’ve been thinking we could...try something.”
“Try something?”
“A small experiment,” he clarifies. “Just to see if there’s more to your powers than we’ve noticed so far.”
“An experiment,” I repeat.
He nods, his enthusiasm tempered by my wary expression. “Nothing too crazy, I promise. But I think it could help us figure out what’s going on with you.”
My skepticism lingers, but I know Tuck wouldn’t suggest anything actually dangerous...I don’t think.
“All right,” I sigh. “What do we need to do?”
TEN MINUTES LATER, we’re all assembled in Tuck’s room—a cozy, surprisingly untidy space across the hall from me, where books and papers cover most surfaces and the deep navy bedclothes are only hastily made.
“This had better be important,” LJ grouses, “for getting me up this early.”
“It’s nine-thirty,” Will says, hands on his hips. “Honestly.”
“I’m sure Tuck’s gonna make it worth our while,” Rob says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Right?”
“What? Oh, yeah, definitely.” Tuck nods. “I think.” He’s laying out a small arrangement of crystals, herbs, and small metal ornaments on the bedside table.
“You into Feng Shui all of a sudden?” Will asks, peering down at the odd collection.
“No,” Tuck says defensively. “They’re for Maren. If she feels like she needs them.”
All eyes go to me.
“No idea,” I say quickly. “I’m following Tuck’s lead here.”
Tuck sighs and sweeps his hair out of his eyes, then straightens his glasses. “Okay. What I’m thinking is that Maren’s never really had a chance to really do anything with her power because she’s never quite had a chance to train it on anything. It just sort of...explodes all around her.” He wiggles his fingers in the air. “Like a blast radius. And that’s why it leaves you feeling dizzy. You’re just sort of knocking out all the systems rather than supercharging just the one.”
“Okay...” I nod slowly, folding my arms. “So what exactly are you going to have me do?”
“And why do we have to be here?” LJ mutters.
“Because,” Tuck says, “the stronger the feeling you can muster, the more focused you are, the better the odds of success. I figure if all of us are here, there’s less chance your mind will, uh...wander.” He clears his throat quickly and moves on. “Besides, if anything cool happens, I feel like we all want to see it.”
Will shrugs. “Fair enough.”
“Do you think...” I start, then trail off. Tuck pauses, a thick leatherbound book in hand.
“Do I think what?”
I twist my hands together, suddenly self-conscious. “I just wondered...I couldn’t be a shifter, could I? Like you guys?”
The four of them share a glance.
Will sucks his teeth. “I think you’d know by now,” he says. “When it first hits you, it’s kind of...uncontrollable.”
“Uncontrollable?” I repeat. “So you just, what, spontaneously morphed into a dragon one day when you were a kid?”
“Yeah, Scarlet, you’re making it sound like getting a boner in math class,” Rob says. “It’s not that.”
“Okay, not uncontrollable ,” Will amends, “but, like...irresistible. Like...restless leg syndrome or something. You can’t not let your body shift. Then eventually you learn to rein it in, control when it happens.” He winces. “It’s not the most fun.”
“You’re telling me,” LJ says. “Exhausting shit.”
“Oh,” I say, wondering if I’m disappointed. Maybe a little. “Okay. But like...” I glance at Tuck, the most likely to have any kind of answer, I reason. “What are we even talking about here? Like what’s the realm of possibility? Is it like, laser beams out of my eyes kind of stuff? Shooting webs from my hands?”
Rob laughs. “You’re not one of the X-Men, Maren. Relax.”
I pout. “I’m just asking.”
“Lots of possibilities,” Tuck says gently. “Although lasers, probably not. It’s like I said, there isn’t a ton of official...documentation around this stuff. It’s not Harry Potter with some big government bureaucracy in charge of everyone with magical powers. There’s no shifter Google or whatever. It’s a lot more...ad hoc.”
I nod. That explains why he’s so eager to experiment, I guess. We could literally be dealing with something entirely new.
“Okay.” I sigh. “Let’s just get this over with. Where do you want me?”
At that, Will raises his eyebrows with intrigue. Rob makes a shushing gesture at him, while LJ cracks a smile. Tuck, for his part, doesn’t seem to notice.
“Um, right there’s good. We’re just going to try to get you to focus a bit. The power is already in you, Maren. You just have to learn how to guide it. Like... steering a river, rather than letting it flood.” He squints, tilting his head. “If that makes sense. So...yeah, you’re there. And Rob...”
“Me?” Rob points to his chest. Tuck nods.
“Yeah. You just go, um, here.” He pushes Rob to a spot half an arm’s length in front of me. “And you’ll need to take off your shirt.”
Now Rob’s eyebrows go up. “Whoa. Buy me dinner first.” But he obliges, reaching for the edge of his burgundy thermal and yanking it over his head, leaving his hair slightly askew.
That, plus the morning stubble and sheer surface of his chest ten inches away from me, gets my pulse going.
But at the same time, my eyes are drawn like a magnet to his shoulder. The scar is pink and smooth, almost shiny, but unmistakably an old wound, the flesh uneven where it closed.
“So you...oh, yes. That’s it.” Tuck looks up from his book, which he snaps shut. “Rob’s shoulder.”
Rob strains his neck, peering down at the spot where my eyes are fixed. “What about it?” he asks.
“We’re going to see if Maren can...do something about it,” Tuck explains. “If my theory is correct.”
Rob lets out a low whistle, then shrugs. “Well, I spose she could hardly make it worse at this point.” He flashes me a smile. “Right, pretty lady?”
I make a face at him. “Don’t tempt me.”
But inside, my heart is racing. What does Tuck expect me to do?
I glance at Tuck, but he’s already at my side, positioning me while LJ and Will look on in silent curiosity.
“So just...here. You’re right-handed, right?”
I nod, and Tuck circles his fingers around my right wrist and places my palm, already damp, against Rob’s shoulder.
“I feel better already,” Rob jokes. Tuck shushes him.
“We’re focusing here, okay?” He looks from Rob to me, and both of us nod.
Rob’s skin is warm under my hand, and it’s hard to just stay there, touching him here and only here. The memory of him, hurt and bleeding, flashes in my mind, making my chest tighten, and I briefly flutter my eyes closed.
“Okay, Maren. Take a breath,” Tuck says, placing a hand gently on my arm. “Now, focus on your hand. Think of it like a funnel, and everything inside you is pouring out of that one point.”
I nod, eyes still closed, and try my best to do as he says. I’ve never been one for yoga or meditation or anything like that, and it’s surprisingly hard to think about just one thing.
But then I feel it. A little buzz flickering down my arm, from elbow to thumb, like I’d lightly whacked my elbow on a doorframe.
“ Yes ,” Tuck whispers. “Good. Good. Don’t force it—just let it happen.”
I nod, still feeling stupid, but try to dig inward, to focus. A second burst, a zap, zigzags through me, this time coming all the way from my chest, like I’ve been defibrillated, and skitters down my arm like a loose spark. And then another, and another, building until it feels like my palm is humming against Rob’s shoulder. The sensation is wild, just the edge of painful, a hot kind of crackling like I’m barely holding onto the edge of a lightning bolt.
But I steady myself, remembering Tuck’s words. I guide it.
And then, a sudden surge.
It rushes through me, rocketing through my muscles and veins like a punch, and slams out of me where my hand meets Rob’s skin. There’s a flash of light behind my eyes, and I hear Rob let out a sharp breath. His muscles tense under my palm, but I don’t stop, even as the energy blasts through me like a wave.
When I finally pull my hand away, my heart is pounding. I blink, expecting a scorch mark or a smoking crater where the upper part of his chest used to be.
Instead, I’m staring at blank, smooth, golden skin.
The scar is gone.
Completely gone.
Then it seizes me. I blink and find only darkness, the floor falling away from me, everything cartwheeling out from under me, and when I pry my eyes open a second time Rob’s sitting on the edge of his bed, rubbing the spot where an ugly arrow scar used to be.
“You okay?” Tuck grabs both my shoulders, scans my eyes, worried. “We lost you—”
“Just a second,” Will says, hovering just behind Tuck. “You lost your balance.”
“I’m...” My throat feels like I swallowed gravel. “I’m fine.” I cough. “I think.”
I crane my neck around them, unable to look at anything but Rob.
It’s gone now. Completely. Like it was never there. Just smooth, taut skin over muscle.
Will, LJ, and Tuck are all watching me, wide-eyed.
“How did you...?” LJ asks, his confusion mirrored in my own thoughts.
“I don’t know!” I cry, clutching at my forearm like I can’t trust my own hand. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Gee, thanks,” Rob interjects.
“She’s got healing power!” Tuck, practically vibrating with excitement, jumps in. “She can heal things just by touching them and channeling her energy. Although, in this case”—he gestures toward Rob’s shoulder—“it was more of a blast than a channel.”
Rob laughs, but he’s rubbing his shoulder with a wince. “I’ll say. Felt like I got kicked by a damn mule.” He grins. “But you fixed me up good, Maren. I appreciate it.”
He gets up from the edge of Tuck’s bed, rolling his shoulder a bit to test it, and smiles at me. “Thank you.”
It happens before I can stop it, a heave of emotion from the bottom of my chest to my throat, and I hear the sound before I register it.
That’s weird. Someone’s crying.
Wait. It’s me.
“Hey. Whoa. Hey now.” Rob catches me as I stumble forward, circles his arms around my shoulders. “Maren. It’s all right.”
“Goddammit,” I mutter through a clenched jaw. “I didn’t mean to just—”
“Normal,” Will says, from outside Rob’s arms. A hand tucks hair behind my ear. “So normal.”
“You just did a lot.” This, from Tuck, a gentle hand at the small of my back. “You’re not used to that kind of—”
“Give her some damn air.” LJ pries me out of Rob’s arms, and turns me to run a thumb over my cheekbone, scraping away the tears. “Breathe, Princess.”
I do, shakily, in and out, a few times. It’s absolutely wild—an out of nowhere hysterical mood swing. But then again, I guess no less believable than literally healing someone with the touch of my hand.
“Whew.” I exhale, cuffing at my eyes. “That was...something.” I’m struggling for control, the words still coming out wobbly.
“You’re good,” LJ says. “We’ve got you. You...”
He trails off, folds his arms.
“What’s wrong?” Tuck asks.
“Nothing. Just...” LJ coughs. “Probably not, ah...appropriate to the moment.”
“Uh oh.” Will tilts his head. “Spit it out.”
LJ puts a finger to my chin, tips my face to look into his. “Just thinking how damn lovely you look.”
I don’t know who moves first, him or me or one of the others. But suddenly, fiercely, there’s a riot under my skin and I need them, need all of them, and they all seem to need me too. I barely graze a rough kiss from LJ’s mouth before I fall back the two steps to the bed, knees hitting so I easily lie back.
“Careful,” Tuck says, even as he climbs up next to me. “She’s a little delicate after—”
“She won’t break, Tuck.” Will smirks, ripping his shirt off over his head. “She’s tough.”
I find my voice. “Damn right.” I grip Tuck by the shirt collar and pull him to me, urgent and eager. The kiss is good, honey sweet but hot, and made hotter by the skim of someone’s fingers—Rob’s—to the top of my jeans, expertly deflecting the button and slipping inside.
“Ah!” I jerk my hips as he strokes me, catching Tuck’s lip with my teeth and sending him startling back, a hand to his mouth.
“Damn.” He draws it back, a few spots of blood on his fingertips.
I wince. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to—”
Whatever I say next is lost to a velvet, languid kiss from Will.
“This is mine,” LJ growls, pulling apart my knees. In a single motion my pants and panties are ripped away, and his beard rasps against my inner thigh as his tongue finds my center, hot and urgent.
“So beautiful,” Will breathes into the crook of my neck, pulling me in for a deep kiss with one hand as he pumps his cock with the other. “Absolutely fucking gorgeous.”
“Mm.” Rob murmurs an agreement around the wet mound of my right nipple, rolling his tongue slowly over the crest. A whimper escapes me, a shapeless kind of panic taking slow form in my chest.
“I don’t...I can’t...” My eyes dart from the two of them at the top of the bed to LJ’s massive form between my legs to Tuck kneeling on the mattress just below Will, his long fingers finding my other breast and tearing another moan from me. “All of you...”
Will shudders a laugh into my collarbone. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll—” A choked sound of pleasure flies from his throat, his eyes fluttering closed.
“We’re big boys,” Rob whispers into my other ear. “We can take care of ourselves. We just like seeing you—”
“And tasting you.” LJ surfaces, eyes like smoking coals, and replaces his mouth with the broad firm strokes of his hand. “Can I, Maren?” he asks, his voice rough, broken.
I glance down to where he’s straining the front of his fly, begging for release, and nod. LJ’s eyes close as he flicks off his belt and jeans and climbs to push into me, all at once.
I cry out, surprised, and the sound of me sends Will collapsing into my shoulder, a warm burst of heat flooding through his fingers and over the skin of my hip.
“God, yes.” Rob pulls my face to his, eyes dusky as he takes me in a deep kiss I struggle to return with LJ pounding, slamming, so far inside me. And then someone’s at my breasts— Tuck, twirling me hard and tight with his fingers on one side as his mouth draws me to a wet, stiff peak with the other.
It’s too much. It’s all too much.
“I...” I slide from Rob’s mouth, sucking in a breath. “I...”
“Don’t have to talk.” Will, panting, presses his palm to my lips. “Just—”
“Come for us,” LJ barks, fingers digging into my bucking hips to hold me steady for each thrust. “Please, Maren.”
On a ragged, juddering cry, I let go.
Somewhere distant, I hear them follow me over, Rob’s easy, husky gasps in my ear, Tuck’s quick, strangled moan at my sternum, LJ’s deep, humming growl as he fills me with pure, molten lust. Then gravity takes me, pulls me slow and sweet back to Earth, back to the weight of me and all of us tangled on this bed.
Someone sweeps hair off my forehead. Will. He peers into my face. “Better?”
“Yes. Good. I—good.” I nod. “Is that...normal?”
LJ rumbles a laugh. “Which part?”
“You know, regardless of which part,” Rob says, exhaling hard, “I’m gonna say probably no. Damn, Maren.”
I snort. “I mean the, like, emotional...” I lay a hand on my forehead, shut my eyes, spin a finger through the air, searching for the term in the whirligig of my mental state. “Mood swings.” That’s the word I was looking for.
“Not unexpected.” That’s Tuck, blinking and setting his glasses back on his face. “It’s sort of like you’re overclocking your body’s capacity, you know? So—”
“Because we all know what that means,” Will says.
“How are you feeling?” LJ cuts to the chase.
“Honestly?” I press a hand to my belly. “Starving.” My stomach growls like it’s been hours since I ate, and I feel a little lightheaded.
“Yep, yep.” Tuck nods. “All makes sense. Any of these big energy expenditures and you’re probably going to burn a lot of calories.”
I smile. “Beats exercising, I guess.”
“So that’s why you’ve been feeding her so much, huh?” Will teases, nudging Tuck. “Just trying to replenish her power?”
Tuck blushes bright red, looking down at his feet. “It’s my love language, okay?”
“Hey, I appreciate it,” I put in. “I don’t think I’d have made it this far if you hadn’t made me breakfast that first morning back...”
I trail off, looking down at my hands, my hips. Where the bruises once were from LJ’s hands, now totally gone. They barely lasted a full day, come to think of it, and they weren’t small.
And the slice in my mouth, where I’d bit my cheek with Will and Rob...
Gone.
A smile curls at the corner of my mouth.
So, turns out I can fix things.
Even myself.