The healer was a sixteen-year-old boy named Chale who’d recently developed magical powers. Since all the magicians at the Magician’s Keep had been conscripted and sent to the Cartel’s garrisons, there had been no one to teach him how to use his power—except me and Valek. Even though I lost my powers over three months ago, I hadn’t forgotten my lessons from the Keep. Valek, on the other hand, had freed his power only recently and almost flamed out, killing us all. Now he was reluctant to use it until he learned how to fully control his powers. Not an ideal situation, but we tried.
I sat at the kitchen table in my undershirt as Chale cleaned my wounds. The gawky teen was all thumbs. He peered through a riot of black hair that my fingers itched to trim. As I suspected, the cut on my biceps needed more than just a bandage. At least talking Chale through the steps needed to heal it with his magic distracted me from the pain. As long as he didn’t touch me skin to skin, he could use threads from the power blanket to stitch the cut closed.
“I have to keep pulling power to knit the skin together,” Chale said with concern. “Something is tugging it away. Is that normal?”
“No. I think what is draining your power is what is blocking mine. At least, I hope that’s the case.”
“Is it the baby?”
I stared at him. Not many people knew.
He blushed. “Sorry, I just—”
“No, don’t apologize. You’re a healer. Sensing the baby is a part of your powers.”
“It’s healthy, if that helps?”
“It does,” Valek said from the doorway. He still wore his black skintight sneak suit, which highlighted his long, lean and powerful muscles. “Can you say the same about my wife?”
A dangerous glint lit his sapphire-blue eyes, but Chale failed to notice.
“Of course. It’s just a couple scrapes.” Chale’s light tone downplayed my injuries nicely—perhaps he’d noticed more than he let on. “We’re almost finished.”
“Good,” Valek said, but his gaze seared into mine.
And though his angular face revealed none of his thoughts, I knew he suppressed a whole gamut of emotions. In a few graceful, almost predatory strides, he was by my side. He laced his fingers in mine as Chale completed his work. Bandages were fine for the shallow cuts. I didn’t want Chale to exhaust his power on the minor abrasions—one of the guild members might need him tonight.
Valek let go of my hand as I shrugged on my torn and bloody tunic. He studied the garment without comment—another dangerous sign. But by this time, the kitchen bustled with the morning crew, and soon piping-hot sweet cakes were set in front of us. My stomach roared with sudden hunger, and even Valek wasn’t brave enough to get between a pregnant woman and food.
Only after I stuffed myself did he reclaim my hand and tug me to my feet.
“Upstairs,” he said.
Feeling much better with a full stomach, I trailed after him as we ascended the stairs to the third level and into our rooms. Valek closed the door and I braced for his lecture. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heart beating, soaking in his warmth, breathing in his musky scent, feeling safe. At six feet tall, he was eight inches taller than me.
I’d known Valek for almost nine years, and the only thing that scared him was the threat of losing me. “What happened?” I asked.
He leaned back and lightly brushed the bandage on my neck with his thumb. “I found out The Mosquito is in town.”
Ah.
“Did he attack you?” he asked.
“It was too dark to see, but the first strike was aimed at my throat.” The Mosquito’s signature way to kill was to stab an ice pick into his victims’ jugulars and let them bleed to death. Nice guy.
“Tell me what happened.”
I detailed the attack and the reason it took me so long to return. “But I managed to hold on to the files. Did you learn anything else while you were in the Council Hall?”
“I grabbed a few promising files from Bavol’s office, but I’m more concerned about what I overheard Bruns and his sycophants discussing in the hallway.”
I stepped back in alarm. “You weren’t supposed—”
“They didn’t know I was there. Besides, the information was worth the danger.”
“About The Mosquito?”
“Yes. That, and Bruns knows you’re in the Citadel. He’s offered a large bounty to the person who kills you.”
No surprise. “How much?”
“Yelena, that’s not the point.”
“It’s not the first time someone’s put a price on my head.” Master Magician Roze Featherstone had offered five golds as a reward for my capture when she tried to take over the Sitian Council seven years ago.
“This time is different. You’re...”
I waited.
“Vulnerable without your magic. And it’s no longer all business with Bruns. He took Ben’s and Loris’s deaths and our escape from the Krystal garrison personally. You need to go back to the farmhouse in the Stormdance lands. You’ll be safer there.”
“And what about you?” I asked. “As you said, our escape. Did he set a bounty for you, as well?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
Valek paced the room. I crossed my arms to keep his lingering warmth close. Plus, judging by the agitation in his steps, I sensed he was working up the nerve to deliver more bad news.
He stopped. “Bruns has offered fifty golds to the person who kills you.”