Page 43 of Mortal Heart

Carefully, she placed the healing spell on his chest near where she’d been cutting and pressed his hand on top of it. “The invocation isHelios.”

The magic rose as if it anticipated his need. He recognized it as Alice’s, and a powerful spell at that. At least he was no stranger to pain. “Helios,” he rasped around his belt.

The healing spell pulsed through his body in waves of white-hot agony. He grunted, breathed in and out between waves of magic, and bit down on his belt so hard he imagined he might bite right through it.

Slowly his injuries healed. The intensity of the magic pulses increased and then began to wane. By the time the last of the magic passed through his body, he felt unexpectedly nauseated in addition to shaky from the spell’s effects.Mortal frailty, he thought savagely as he dropped the crystal and took the belt from his mouth.

Ever observant and insightful, Carly must have noticed his anger and guessed its cause. As she picked up the crystal and set it aside, she said, “Something to consider. A mortal body may seem weak or fragile compared to what you’re used to, but it can withstand far more than you give it credit for. And a mortal heart offers more joy than any immortal life could ever experience.” She glanced in the direction of the back room, which had gone quiet finally. “Especially when you choose to share it with another.”

More unsolicited wisdom. “She lied to me,” he said, his tone flat.

“Did she?” Carly raised her eyebrows and pulled off her bloody gloves. “Maybe. But you have to ask yourself why.”

He pushed himself up to a sitting position. The room went a bit hazy, then his vision cleared. He wanted to argue the why didn’t matter, but of course it did. Hadn’t he had that argument with Michael? But what good reason could Arkady have had to lie about this?

Carly rose, picked up her athame again, and opened the circle with a quiet prayer of thanks. He got to his feet, still nauseated and unsteady, and eyed the blood on the tarp. It looked worse than it was, he decided.

“Arkady’s in the shower in my room,” Carly informed him. “You can use the guest bathroom. Towels are in the cabinet.”

“We need clothes to change into. They’re in my saddlebag outside.”

“I’ll bring them in.”

Before he went to clean up, he unzipped one of the pockets in his pants and withdrew the tiny wingless demon he’d brought from Nyx. It wriggled between his fingers and let out a weak screech. “This is our only lead on where to go next,” he said. “If I may ask yet another favor, do you have any means of tracking its master?”

“I assumed you had a good reason to bring such a foul thing into my home.” Carly studied the creature with obvious distaste. “Why do you need to find its master?”

He explained why he and Arkady were tracking down the demon they believed ran the trafficking ring. Carly’s expression went from distaste to disgust and then anger as he described what they’d uncovered so far.

When he finished, she had him drop the little demon into a wooden box covered with intricate spellwork. “Katy has a strong gift for scrying,” she said, shutting the box. “I’ll ask her about this when she’s done helping Arkady. If she hasn’t used too much power tonight and she’s willing, she’ll try to get you an answer.”

“That’s all we can ask. Thank you.”

“Shower.” She made a shooing motion. “Try not to track blood all over my house.”

He hurried to the guest bathroom. He passed Katy coming out of the master bedroom with Arkady’s clothes in a bucket.

She handed it to him. “Put yours in here too. We’ll burn it all at once and I’ll disperse the ash and traces. No one will know you were ever here.”

“Thank you.” He set the bucket in the bathroom. “How is she?”

“Pissed at you.” Katy crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “And sick enough to call me names I’ve never heard, and I thought I’d heard them all. We got the poison out, though, eventually. I’ll bring your cup of elixir and leave it on the counter in the bathroom. Don’t worry—it’s a small dose compared to what she needed. You’ll be a little sick but fine.”

He thanked her again, went into the bathroom, and shut the door. As he stripped off what remained of his clothes, he looked himself over in the mirror. The healing spell had done its job. He was covered in blood, but no wounds remained except his scars.

They’d healed enough to no longer hurt, burn, ooze blood, or glow faintly with angelic power, but he remained aware of them all the same. They were a constant nagging sensation that never let him have a moment’s true peace. Even whole bottles of tequila couldn’t banish the feeling—and he’d tried. The only times he’d managed to ignore them were during fights…and when Arkady smiled at him.

No, that wasn’t the whole truth. When he’d watched her come in the dungeon at Nyx, he’d forgotten about them completely.

In the shower, he stood under hot water and soaped himself from head to toe twice until he felt clean and the bathroom filled with steam. And all the while, his thoughts circled back to the same words again and again:

She lied to me.

You have to ask yourself why.

The bathroom door opened and closed quietly as he scrubbed his face one last time under the hot spray. Probably Carly dropping off his clothes and his dose of Katy’s demon poison antidote. He doubted he’d need to drink it now. The poison’s effects seemed almost gone. Maybe Alice’s healing spell had helped in that regard too.

He shut off the water, pulled back the curtain, reached for a towel…and stilled.

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