September Moon (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #8)

“She’s good at hiding her emotions. She can’t hide anymore. We’ll help her get through this.” Kale sounded so calm, so sure. He almost made me believe it.

I smoothed Jez’s hair back from her face before giving her a shake. Waking her up became more crucial with each moment she was unconscious. I needed her to talk, to ease my fears. I said a silent prayer. If Jez partied her way into an early grave, I would never forgive myself. It was because of me that Zoey had died. Lilah had been targeting my wolves. Zoey had been mine to protect after an unspoken promise I’d made her father.

“This is all my fault,” I said.

“Don’t start that,” Kale warned. “You didn’t kill Zoey, and you didn’t do anything to convince Jez to snort that shit up her nose.”

I pulled back one of Jez’s eyelids to find her eye rolled back; her pupil, dilated and unresponsive. Slapping her face and applying a cool compress was not helping. “This isn’t working. We need to do something.” My voice was high with panic; my pulse pounded with adrenaline. I couldn’t just sit there and watch her fade away.

Kale studied Jez, likely listening to the strange pace of her heart. I could hear it too. “Why don’t you try that little healing trick you and Arys seem to be able to do?” Kale suggested. He was stone cold serious. “It might help her body regain normal function while she works that shit out of her system.”

“Healing really isn’t my strong suit.” It sounded like a lame excuse, which we didn’t have time for. He was right. “I’ll try it. Are you sure you want to be here for this? It might get kind of intense.” There was no nice way to skate around the subject. Healing would require calling on the power I shared with Arys. The power would draw Kale like a moth to a flame.

“I’m fine, Alexa. Really. Besides, if anything happens, you’ll have more than enough juice to take me out.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I shook my head and held up a hand before he could fire back at me. “Forget I said that. You have to give me some space. Maybe go pour Jez some coffee. If you don’t mind.”

Kale didn’t argue. He allowed me to banish him into the kitchen. I knew he wouldn’t stay there long.

It was hard to get into the zone. Knowing Kale was so close made it difficult to let go of my fear and embrace the power. Jez was relying on me. I had to put the risks aside and deal with them as they came.

Placing a hand on her forehead and another on her side, I closed my eyes and focused on Jez’s scattered energy. It felt rough, lacking the strong, smooth flow it should have. I aligned my energy with hers, blanketing her brokenness with my wholeness. Then I called forth the power coiled in my core. It rose up like a soft breeze, ruffling my hair. Concentrating hard on my intent, I targeted her weakness and, with a gentle push, breathed positive healing energy into her.

I couldn’t do anything about the drugs in her bloodstream, but I was able to strengthen her body’s response to them. Shifters process drugs and alcohol faster than humans. For her to be this screwed up, she must have really partied hard.

Healing was still new to me. I didn’t use my power this way near as often as I used it to harm or defend. In that moment, joined to Jez by something bigger than us both, I could feel the power of the light. It felt right.

Being aligned with her aura the way I was, I could feel the spark of darkness burning like a hot coal, hidden beneath the raw power of her leopard. Jez’s demon paternity was likely part of this emotional rollercoaster she was on. She didn’t talk about it much, but the one time it had come up, she’d admitted to wondering how much of her father lay within her.

I had no answer to that. The dark entity inside her rested, quiet, almost as if it was dormant. Waiting. The prowling wildcat within Jez seemed unaware of it.

I opened my eyes to find Kale staring at me. He stood in the doorway between the rooms with a steaming mug of coffee in hand and an unmistakable hunger burning in his predatory gaze. He moved with a slow, even gait. He set the coffee on the table, careful to keep his distance.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

“No worries.” I broke contact with Jez, satisfied when her energy hummed with a strong vibe. Unwilling to take my gaze off Kale, I stood up to face him. “Are you ok?”

“No,” he admitted, looking conflicted. “But I’ve got it under control.”

I knew that look. There were many ways to sate that kind of longing. None of them were without an element of danger. It took so very little for self-control to slip when the power guided the craving. Guilt slithered through me. It was joined by shame.

“Willow said we should talk. Apparently, there is something you need to tell me.” Venturing into a potentially volatile subject was risky, but it was best to keep him talking.