Page 30 of A Lost Light

She crossed the room to kneel by my chair. “Pull up your shirt and I'll smear this paste on the wound. Then I'll activate it with my magic. It might sting or itch a bit, but it should close the wound and speed up healing.”

Something beeped loudly and she huffed, dropping the pestle into the mortar and holding that with one hand while she fumbled with something at her waistband. A device of some sort. I leaned forward to watch, ignoring the way that pulled at the wound in my side. My curiosity really would be the death of me. I eyed the plastic tubing that emerged from the device and disappeared under her t-shirt. “A medical device?”

She lifted her gray eyes to meet my questioning gaze and sighed. “Insulin pump and blood sugar monitor.”

I arched my brows at her. “You are a witch, and yet you have a human illness?”

“Curse,” she muttered as she returned her attention to pressing buttons on her device. “Woven into my DNA. Just one more amazing benefit of being a Lovell.”

“I see.” I sat back. I wasn't entirely sure I should trust a witch who was susceptible to basic human illnesses to practice healing magic on me. But I didn't get any sense of bad luck from the situation. Only the continued low hum of warmth I felt when I was in a lucky situation—all of my senses telling me this was where I should be if I wanted what was best for me. It was interesting, and a bit unsettling, how that feeling hadn't left since I came into contact with these people.

The witch finished whatever she was doing with her device and focused on me once more. I pulled up my poor, destroyed blouse so she could get to the wound in my side. It looked nasty. But I really was lucky. It was painful, ugly, and it had bled a lot. Butthe bullet really had only grazed through some muscle and skin. A couple inches to the side, and it probably would have hit vital organs.

Oleander clucked at the sight of my torn flesh and the crusty dusting of spell powder that had been applied previously to stop the bleeding. “Hasumi,” she said distractedly. “Can you clean that off?” Her gray eyes flicked up to meet mine and she shrugged. “It won't hurt to put the new spell right over the old one, but it would stay all crusty.”

I shuddered slightly. I hated being dirty.

The ethereal creature I had yet to put a name to must be Hasumi. They moved to my side and did something with their graceful hands. A small sphere of water appeared in mid-air, hovering near me. “This may tickle,” they informed me. Then the sphere floated over and made contact with my skin, the blob maintaining its spherical shape as it rolled across my wound, somehow taking all the grime away with it. They were right. It did tickle. My muscles tensed and I hissed softly at the pain that caused. But it was bearable, especially if it meant being clean.

I watched as Hasumi—who must be some kind of water elemental—banished the sphere from the room. “Where did it go?” I asked curiously.

They smiled softly, seemingly amused at my question. “Outside. I simply sent it to the courtyard and dispelled it where the water will nourish the plants.”

“Ah.” I nodded, happy with the knowledge.

Oleander glanced between us with a wry half-smile on her face. “You're really curious, aren't you?”

I sat up taller and pushed my glasses up my nose as I restored some of the barriers I usually tried to maintain. “I simply like to be well informed.”

Her smirk grew, but she turned to her work, gently spreading the concoction she had made over my wound with her softfingers. Not very hygienic. But then, she was a witch. I was sure magic would get rid of any germs, since thiswasa healing spell and all. The paste immediately felt cool and soothing against my painful, inflamed skin.

“You work for Bella, then?” Oleander asked casually as she coated me in herbs.

I nodded. “In a manner of speaking, yes. I help the rebels whenever I can. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement. And, of course, there is the political piece. The supremacists believe my people to be nothing more than animals who play at being human, beneath them and best used as slaves. But the Supernatural Alliance has done very little to curb the cult’s rise to power. Their inaction endangers my kind, and those close to me. I felt the rebels offered a solution—the only real chance at keeping my people safe.”

She sighed. “We were told you were an innocent civilian being held on false spying charges. But you are actually a spy, aren't you?”

I shrugged. “The SA thought I was a defector from the rebel camp. They thought I wanted to join their side, and they leapt at the opportunity to milk me for information about the rebels—which I was happy to feed them, in useless bits, of course. They wanted to use me for my potential powers. There was also the lure of having their very own shifter to study.” She arched her brows at me, and I smirked. “I am incredibly good at sneaking around. And at finding things that I want to find. I gave the SA plenty of information about the rebels. All of it useless. And meanwhile I slowly fed the SA's secret files to the rebels.”

I sighed, disappointed in myself, even if it looked like this would all turn out to be to my benefit in the end. “I got caught in the director's office stealing their newest hitlist.” Sloppy, really. “The list was filled with quite a few names that didn't appear to be witch supremacists or actual criminals… all very interesting.I can’t believe I let myself get caught. But then again, sometimes what seems like a bad turn is actually good luck in disguise.” I glanced around the room full of strangers and felt that warm hum of rightness again. “And so, here I am.”

“Are you saying you think you weremeantto be here?” the mostly alive angel asked me, the faintly glowing branches of his wings opening and closing slowly as he took this in.

I shrugged. “Apparently. Though I will miss my library and my computer, and all of my things. Is Bella able to send things here… whereverhereis?” I glanced at Oleander again. “No one knows where the youngest Lovell is hiding, not even the other rebels. Bella is very protective of you.” And now I would know that secret. It made the knowledge-hungry part of me light up with smug joy. But it also reminded me that to these people, I was a liability.

Oleander gave me a flat look. “You just admitted to being a spy posing as a defector to steal information,” she said in a dry voice. “What reason do we have to believe you're not doing the same thing to us right now?”

I deflated a bit. “Oh. Well. When you put it that way, none, I suppose. Smart of you to be suspicious, really.”

“Andy,” the gargoyle said softly. “He's hurt. He's been through a lot, and--”

I arched a brow in surprise at the unexpected defense. But the jinn ruined it as he jumped in and cut the gargoyle off. “Oh, don't be stupid, you idiotic piece of granite. You can't go all bleeding heart over every single stray you come across!”

The room devolved into a low-level din of arguments as everyone tried to decide if they trusted me to know where they were hiding or not. I yawned. I really didn't care where we were anymore. It was only curiosity on my part to begin with, not any sort of spying mission. And I reallywasworn out. I could use a good nap. Preferably in a nice patch of sun. But that justreminded me that I hadn't seen a sun in the sky when we arrived, and the curiosity about our location came rushing back.

Oleander ignored everyone else and reached out to place her palm over my wound, softly speaking words I didn’t understand as she sent her lovely earth magic out to activate the healing spell. “Oh, that feels divine,” I said, letting my eyes fall closed as the pain receded to a dull ache.

“You can wash up when you get to your room,” she said as she withdrew her magical hands from my skin. I opened my eyes to find her watching me with a wry quirk drawing up one corner of her lips and a bit of a bemused expression on her face. “It won't disturb the spell if you wash away the herbs, now that it's been activated.”

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