Chapter 9
The door to his bedroom banged open, the knob leaving a hole in the plaster. Melvin sat up, wincing when the motion tugged at the blisters that covered most of his right arm and torso. Even jerked out of a restless sleep, he’d recognize that voice anywhere.
Mare.
“Thank fuck,” he muttered, easing himself up to sit over the edge of the bed.
If Mare was back, maybe she could heal the damned burns.
Great and magnificent sorcerer he may be, but organic healing was more the witch’s area of expertise.
His was more along the lines of figuring out magical puzzles and blowing things up.
He lifted his head and almost wept with joy with what he saw.
Damn it all, he was so sick of this childish nightmare.
Mare stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips, her warm brown eyes flashing with anger.
He took in her tall valkyrie-esque frame, with its broad shoulders, small chest, and wide hips.
Her big, bare feet ate up the distance between them, and she batted away the halo of fluffy, kinky brown hair that floated about her head.
Her wide mouth tilted upward at one corner—somewhere between a wry smile and a grimace.
“I thought I told you to stop setting yourself on fire,” she ground out.
Melvin huffed. “Happy to see you too, Mare.” He reached for her and she obligingly bent at the waist, letting him pull her into a lingering kiss that said just how desperate he’d been to get her back.
Her soft, demanding lips slid across his and her big hand tangled in the hair at the base of his neck.
When she pulled back to rest her forehead against his, he moved to press a quick kiss to her long, upturned nose.
Fuck’s sake, he’d never been happier to be rid of that vacuous twit who’d taken the place of his Mare.
Pulling back, he watched her as she examined him.
Sometimes when she was thinking her long nose twitched in the cutest way—like a curious rat about to sniff out a morsel of food.
“I can fix this, can’t I?” She asked, waving a hand at his burns.
Melvin’s pulse thundered in his head. Crap. “Uh…you don’t remember, do you?”
She sighed and rubbed her temple. “My head feels like it’s been fucking crushed under a ten-ton boulder, Mel.” Her eyes met his, and he saw though her anger to her confusion and fear. “I know you, though. I remember that much.”
He nodded. “It might take a bit for all the pieces to come back. But they will.” He sighed.
“If we go down to the kitchen there might be enough stuff left for you to piece together a healing spell. I don’t know how you activate them…
but I’ve seen you use the ingredients often enough to be able to identify them. ”
She licked her lips and nodded, her shoulders losing some of their tension. “Okay. We’ll get you taken care of first. Then you can explain what the hell is going on. All I can remember right now is that I have a very strong urge to set a woman named Belinda Bubblebottom on fire.”
Melvin snorted. “Hickinbottom.”
Mare waved her hand impatiently. “Like I said, Belinda Hickeybottom. Heckin’booty? Whatever!”
He pushed himself to his feet, then paused to stare at the two guys standing in the doorway. “What happened to your knights, there, Mary Sue?”
Mare whirled to see where he was looking, then narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t even start with that shit, Mel. You ever call me that name again and I’ll turn you into a toad.”
He grinned. “Still, they don’t look too great.”
Cassius and Draven were kind of…stuck in between. It was like their true selves were peeking out of the illusion, and it was fucking weird. They were all…distorted.
“I…” Cass said, pausing to swallow hard. His eyes looked sharper now, though still a little confused. “Mel?”
Melvin took pity on the guy and went to pull him into a hug. “It’s okay, Cass. We’ll sort it out and get you out of there. I promise.”
Mel pulled back from Cass to find Draven watching him with round brown eyes. “Why do I want berries and a nap?”
Melvin let out a manic laugh. “I’ll do my best to explain, then hopefully we can get the fuck out of here. But first, I’d like to stop feeling like a hunk of seared ribeye.” He gestured at the worst of the blisters, which had just broken open and started to weep.
Mare rolled her eyes and shoved them all out the door. “Come on, then. Everything about this mauve nightmare is making my headache worse.”
Once they were settled in the kitchen, Melvin did his best to guide Mare through a healing spell.
Witch magic and sorcerer magic were two completely different things.
But he understood the basic principals, and Mare seemed to be remembering more and more of who she was, now that he’d broken the curse of the Perfect Petal Pink.
Mel shuddered. No more pink in their lives after this. Ever.
He sighed in relief as Mare spritzed the cooled tincture on his skin, activating it with a little wave of her hand and a connection to the earth.
Thank all the powers that were listening that she still had a connection to the natural world, here in whatever aether they currently occupied.
It wasn’t her best patch job. But he could hardly complain about a few more scars, given how badly he was already marked up from years of experiments and hairbrained, last minute spellwork.
“Better?” Mare said at last, leaning back to peer into his eyes, her expression conveying all the concern and love she wouldn’t ever let show on the surface.
People thought she was tough and scary, his Mare—but she was the most fiercely loving person he knew.
She’d just never been given permission to show it until they all came into her life.
He nodded. “Much better.” Then he set about trying to explain their weird, unconventional, exciting, often dangerous, but wouldn’t-trade-it-for-the-world life.