Greta kept the stone in place for a full minute. I felt the vibration of its chalky white minerals, but it didn’t seem to be connecting with me. “Oh, good.” Greta exhaled. “It’s not drawing any darkness. You’re clear. This will be an easy break to mend.”
“Awesome.” That was good. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to kill a night elf, meet Tore’s smokin’ hot ex, and have dark magic extracted from a broken bone all in one day. A girl could only handle so much.
“Sit tight, Allie.” Greta uncorked one of the small bottles and poured its contents over my ankle. “I’m going to use flower essences to shut down the pain receptors, but this will still hurt.”
I gritted my teeth. “Bring it on.”
Mack jumped up from the armchair and crossed the room to hold my hand. “Just look at me, Allie. Tell me about your Gran. What was your favorite dish she used to cook for you? If you describe her best meal, I’ll bet I could replicate the recipe.”
A fond memory danced across my mind. “Gran’s Norsk waffles were my favorite, but she also used to make this amazing rose hip soup. She kept a gorgeous garden, and every year at the first bloom, she’d pick a bushel of—holy mother of pearl!” I screamed as pain overtook me. Mack squeezed my hand tightly. I sensed the compassion coming from him, but kindness did nothing to still pain. White-hot needles seared my ankle at the same time a loud crack rang through the living room. “Oh, God! What did you just do?” I shouted at Greta.
“I know this is awful.” Greta sounded genuinely sorry. “But that was the worst of it. I promise. Your bones are reset, and now I just need to administer the essences that will facilitate the healing for your greater good.”
“Well, administer, sister. Because this is most definitely not my greater good.” I clamped my mouth shut as waves of pain radiated throughout my body.
“I’ll bet your grandmother’s soup was wonderful.” Mack shifted so his face was directly in front of mine. I zeroed in on the fine hairs of his beard and willed myself to examine the variants in their chocolate hues—anything to distract from the pain. “My mother used to make a similar dish with a flower native to Alfheim. I’ll work on adapting the recipe, and after your next kill, we can celebrate.”
My next kill. Right. Thinking about the onslaught of night elves hell bent on claiming my soul made Greta’s ‘healing’ almost bearable. A few minutes of insane ankle agony would be way better than an eternity of soul misappropriation at the hands of some dark elf, right? Right.
“You’re very sweet, Mack.” I kept my eyes locked on his while Greta rubbed something on my aching joint. A faint floral smell drifted to my nose. “Thank you for being so kind to me.”
“It’s truly my pleasure.” Mack squeezed my hands again, and Greta stepped back. “Is she healed?”
“She will be.” Greta closed the vials, then placed them carefully back in her box. “The bones are in place, and the essences will expedite the fusion. With her healing powers, I’d say she’ll be back to one hundred percent by breakfast time.”
“Thank you.” I grimaced at the healer. “Sorry I yelled at you.”
“No worries, I know it hurt.” Greta winked and slung her backpack over her shoulder. She swapped places with Mack, bending down low to give me a gentle hug. “If it’s not better in the morning, have the boys call me, and I’ll come back.”
“You’re going back to Asgard?” Bodie’s shoulders drooped.
“I have to.” Greta sighed. “The healing unit’s full at the moment. But I hope to visit soon, under better circumstances, of course.”
“See ya, Greta.” Johann gave a jaunty wave, and Greta returned the gesture.
“Hang in there, Allie.” Greta gave me a warm smile. “I’ve known these boys a long time, and they’re a lot to deal with. Especially that one.” Greta tilted her head toward the porch. “But they’re the most loyal bunch I’ve ever met, and their hearts are pure gold. All of their hearts.” She gave me a meaningful look.
Message received, healer.
“Thanks, Greta. I hope I see you again.” I meant it. The Asgardian had genuinely good energy. And after weeks cooped up in a house full of guys, I could use some girl time. I just hoped the girl I’d be spending time with in the near future was the gentle healer . . . not the ice queen doing who knew what on the porch with my favorite protector.
As Greta let herself out, Tore’s angry voice shot through the open door. The tone was quickly replaced by his throaty laugh. What? A minute later, the bright lights of the Bifrost filled the window. I reached out with my energy to sense the signature of my new friend leaving for Asgard. Greta was gone, but Synna’s ice-cold signature remained on the cabin’s porch. And her shrill laugh rang through the now-closed front door.
Good Lord, what was going on out there? How were they both yelling and laughing? Ugh. They were probably one of those really immature couples who fought like crazy, then had passionate sex before getting back together. And since they’d just been on a break, I could only guess what stage they were about to enter now. The thought formed a lump in my throat.
“Hey Mack, I’m tired. Would you mind helping me to bed?” I raised my arm. Mack looked at the front door before nodding at me. He lifted my butt off the couch and helped me to my room.
Once on my bed, I thanked him. He was quiet for a long time, and I figured he was mulling something over. When he finally spoke, he kept his voice soft. “Allie, Synna was there for Tore when his mom died. That’s the only reason he doesn’t tell her to screw off. He feels like he owes her something.”
I just nodded. After a minute, Mack left the room and closed the door. When he was gone, I let my head fall back against the pillow and permitted myself one frustrated exhale. I hadn’t realized how much I’d started to like Tore until I heard him laugh-screaming with his ex. His tall, exotic, totally not me ex. Ugh. I’d always been that girl who built guys up in my head; made them into more than they were capable of being. Like my high school boyfriend Jamie Foster—I’d given him my virginity senior year, and he’d asked another girl to prom three weeks later. I’d thought maybe a demigod could actually live up to the seemingly reasonable expectations I set for a potential boyfriend. But apparently, continuing to crush on Tore meant settling for being second fiddle to his on-and-off ex. And I was done settling. I wanted a guy who actually deserved me. And if Tore wasn’t that guy . . . then my crush was officially over.
For good.
****