Chapter 23
Sylvia
After freshening up as best I could, I wandered out of the guest hall in time to look over the railing and see Jon coming back inside through the front door.
I had little doubt what he’d been doing: taking multiple laps around the property, ensuring it was safe from stray monsters or unwanted tails.
As he passed under the stairway, tension lined his shoulders on his way to the kitchen.
I found him exploring the walk-in pantry. Like everything else in the house, it was remarkably welcoming and stocked. Non-perishables lined the shelves like they’d been waiting for him. Perking up at the sound of my wings, Jon frowned over his shoulder at me.
“Does this look like crushed-up bugs to you?” he asked, indicating the labeled spice jar in his hand.
“I doubt Delilah is mixing up her potion ingredients with oregano.” I glanced behind me warily. “Did you get permission to rummage through her kitchen? I’d hate for us to be thrown out in the snow for being rude.”
“She said she wasn’t much of a cook and offered to throw instant ramen on the stove.
She was more than happy to pass the job to me when I told her I could put something together.
” Though he said it nonchalantly, there was an unmistakable focus to the way he selected his ingredients from the shelves.
As he stepped out and prepared the burners with pots and pans, I nearly teased him for choosing to labor over a hot stove after fighting for his life, but then I remembered who I was looking at.
Hunters had odd ways of soothing their nerves.
The frantic gleam in his eyes began to ease when he stirred paprika and cumin into a simmering pot of red beans.
This was where he found solace, though it wasn’t airtight.
A news broadcast drifted from the TV in the adjacent sitting room. At once, I understood why the volume was being turned up. The newscasters spoke of an upturned, obliterated shuttle.
“Authorities on the scene are reporting a tragic engine malfunction. Firefighters are working to contain the wildfire that resulted from the explosion.” There was an extra layer of sympathy to the hosts’ tone as they reported that the vehicle was intended for medical transport.
The reach of Eros’ lies seemed unshakeable. Considering what he had been transporting, he’d probably argue it wasn’t a lie at all.
“You okay?” Jon asked quietly as I sank to the edge of the counter and winced.
“I guess Rhett was so pissed about his leg that he had to go and ruin mine.” I set to work on healing the area around my knee, but my mind raced with what I’d really wanted to say: It doesn’t feel like we won, does it?
By all accounts, we had succeeded. The army of monsters lay in an otherworldly forest of carnage, according to Jon.
One of the biggest players in this cruel game had been thwarted.
We’d saved two fairies from a harrowing captivity.
Yet, my nerves were still abuzz, and I expected the next threat to burst through the door any minute.
Up until this point, I’d encountered plenty of bloodshed, sacrifice, and close scrapes with death. I’d gotten the taste of a hunter’s life, but I had always been able to come down after our battles. Not this time. Tonight had been unfathomably personal.
Rhett. Tammy. Eros.
And the fact that I sat here, my own father alive, driving back toward us soon.
A human.
Against my grief, anger, and confusion, a selfish little seed began to sprout. My father had accomplished the human transformation spell I so badly craved. He could show me how he’d done it. That was the least he could do.
But one caveat was a bullet through my hope.
He had been a gem scavenger keen on experimentation, and I was nothing of the sort.
I didn’t have the magic to take on such a monumental spell, and my greatest failure of the evening had been the abandonment of the gemstone’s beckon once our lives were on the line.
I bitterly thought of where it might have been lurking in the hotel—perhaps a cursed diadem, or a guest’s bracelet, or a rare emerald set in a ring.
I swore I could still feel the phantom echo of the gem’s call nearby. After being exposed to such dizzying magic for over a day and finding sanctuary in a witch’s home, I supposed I couldn’t be faulted for losing my mind a little.
“Sylv?” Jon murmured when I didn’t move after completing the healing incantation.
Sighing, I touched my knee tenderly and wiped my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to curl up on Jon’s shoulder and melt into him all night while he cooked and found somewhere to relax, but I doubted I could make myself comfortable with this bruised, aching injury.
“I’m too tired to complete more than a superficial healing,” I admitted.
“Chula. You realize you’re not the only healer on the premises, right?”
My face flushed. “I can’t ask a noble to heal me! What if she says no? That’ll be mortifying.”
He casually pulled a blade from the knife block and inspected it. “Should I ask her for you?”
“Stars, no.” I started toward the door to find Zia, then hesitated. I looked back at him—really looked.
I scanned his face, the effortless strength of his arms under his plain black shirt as he moved. It was a fucking miracle his body was still in one piece after what he’d gone through tonight.
And… No nosebleed. At least, not right now.
“You’re sure you’re feeling okay?” I asked, a quiver in my voice
“Nothing a few hours of sleep next to you can’t fix,” he said.
My cheeks flushed at the tenderness, and I fought back the familiar instinct to tease him about the things I’d do to him in the spectral realm tomorrow, when we were recovered.
No. We’d never be there together again. But at least we hadn’t lost each other tonight.
Cementing the image of Jon in my mind—safe and waiting for me whenever I returned—I took off in search of Zia.
Assuming I would find her and Rowan in their second-floor guest room, I started in that direction, but a glint of flickering light drew my attention to an open door just past the foyer. I peered inside, gasping at the sight of a well-furnished parlor.
Three winged figures were perched upon one of the polished tables. Zia was the first to notice me, lighting up as she waved me over. Rowan, of course, stood tightly behind her. And across from them—
“Ben!” I cried, making a beeline for the table. He still looked exhausted, so I refrained from tackling him into a hug. Scanning him up and down, I sighed with relief. “You’re alright?”
Much like me, he appeared far from settled, but he nodded. “I might have been out for a few days if not for Zia. In return, I wanted to show her my favorite room in this place. It’s…quiet.”
I instantly understood. A fireplace crackled merrily on one side of the room.
I couldn’t begin to fathom the intricacies and power that Delilah had put into structuring this safehouse, but the building itself seemed like an extension of her, mirroring her hospitality.
Even the curtains seemed to know to stay shut tight in this cozy sanctuary of a room, providing much-needed isolation from the outside.
Hesitantly, I turned to Zia and offered a sheepish smile. “If it isn’t too much to ask…”
She zeroed in on my injury at once. “Of course. Your poor leg.”
As much as I feared she would protest to another healing, Zia’s eagerness was almost as flustering. When it was for helping as opposed to bringing harm, her magic may as well have been an open tap.
She beckoned me to sit and went straight to work. Her healing capabilities were nothing short of miraculous. She spoke her incantations with a cadence I had never heard in any spellwork, almost as though she was singing the verses instead of simply chanting them.
I sighed my thanks, stunned by how swiftly and entirely she mended the deep ache in my calf. Having performed great feats of healing on the hunters, I considered myself quite skilled for a secondary affinity healer, but I was staggeringly outmatched by Zia.
“Would you like me to do something for your mind?” Zia asked after thoroughly ensuring that my leg no longer held the barest hint of pain.
“You can do that?”
She stroked hair off my face and left her fingertips at my temple. “I could help you sleep. Or fill your senses with your favorite smells and memories to set your soul at peace.”
“Can I have ten of those?” Ben muttered, and I elbowed him lightly.
Tempting as Zia’s offer was, exhaustion wavered behind her kind eyes. “I can’t ask that,” I said. “You’ve already been through more than enough.”
“It’s no trouble. I’ll be casting it on both Rowan and myself when we finally lay our heads down tonight.” Her smile widened. “Truthfully, after days of having my magic stifled, I can think of no greater joy than to wield it for friends.”
We drew apart as Zia looked past me and stiffened. I heard it too: a faint creak of footsteps, like the approaching person couldn’t decide whether to fully cross the threshold or not.
Cliff filled the doorway tentatively, a sheepish half-smirk ghosting his lips as we locked eyes.
“Sorry, I—” He cleared his throat, gaze flighty. “I was just… Actually, I should check if Jon needs something.”
“We don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Zia called over. Although she couldn’t entirely mask her apprehension, she still gave a waggle of her fingers, inviting him in.
While Rowan gave Zia a reproachful glance, Cliff’s shoulders loosened at the light jab. He paused, studying the four of us before entering the room.
Cliff had changed into clean, casual clothes that had to have been loaned from Lee, the way the shirt hugged just a little tighter than usual around his muscular frame.
He paced around the sturdy leather armchairs, sharp eyes making note of every peculiar detail and sentimental touch that was ingrained into this place.