Page 67 of Death Wish

A low groan came from across the room. I spun around to find Cole rocking side to side, his hands shaking as they ran over the burns on his arms and face. He tried to sit up but winced and lay back down.

I hurried over to him. “Cole, I don’t know what happened. My power burned…”

He waved off my explanation and attempted to get up again. With a loud pain-filled grunt, he was able to pull himself upward to a sitting position.

“I told you to use it.” He grunted. “It’s on me.”

Examining his arms, bright red and cracked in some places, he sucked in a breath. “Looks like you gave me a bit of a sunburn.”

I was glad he was able to joke about this. Unfortunately, I didn’t find it as funny, especially when I spotted a couple of blisters on the parts of flesh that had been directly hit, like his neck and around his collarbone.

After a moment, he glanced around the room. “Did we win?”

“Sort of. The Halflings are all gone, if that’s what you mean. But who knows if they’ll be back.”

“So, my tan lines are worth it.”

God, he was infuriating. I shoved him in the shoulder and stood.

He hissed in pain. “Hey!”

“What I’m saying is that we need to get out of here now before they come back.”

“And the herb?” he asked.

“I know where it is, but I can’t get to it. I’m a reaper again, a spirit.”

Cole pushed himself to stand, groaning.

“For a mercenary, you’re quite a crybaby,” I teased.

He shot me a look, which I ignored.

Then, I remembered what Marla has said about the healing ingredients she had for his burns.

“You’re going to have to help yourself because I can’t touch anything anymore on this plane. I’m useless.” Quickly, I told him where Marla had hid the herb and the two things we needed to treat his burns.

I let him lean on me while he got the things we needed, thanking whatever higher power that I could at least touch him. Five minutes later, we were out the door again, back into the early-morning air and under a lightening sky.

The drive back to the motel was a slow one. Concern knotted my stomach at every bump we hit in the rundown Jeep and every turn we made. If I could have driven the metal box, I would have, especially because Cole’s evident pain was heart-wrenching to watch. Guilt weighed heavily on me knowing that I had caused him some of that pain, and there was nothing I could do to help him.

It didn’t matter if he told me over and over that he was okay. I could see the pain on his face.

The moment we got into the room and shut the door, he pulled off his shirt and collapsed onto the bed.

“You did quite a number on me,” he said with a small chuckle.

I hadn’t wanted to use my light power; he had told me to.

“Why do you think my light affected you more this time than last?” I asked.

He reached over to the side table, scooped the concoction of aloe and crushed seeds, and began rubbing it on the red marred skin on his arms and chest.

I tried not to look at his naked torso, all hard lines and sculpted muscles, especially as he spread the shiny, waxy goo all over his skin. But I was failing miserably.

The parts that had been covered with clothes weren’t too bad, but the backs of his hands, neck, collarbones, and some of his face were severe. As if someone had thrown boiling water on him, and for some reason, it was still steaming.

Even with all the wounds, he was still a sight to behold.

---