Page 33 of Elas

He nods, his thick blonde waves rubbing against my chin. “When I was working in the file room, I found a stack of papers. They looked old, but I didn’t see any dates on them. They said this could happen, and that… that it wasn’t good. That I’m—we’re—sick.”

“What did they say, exactly?” If he’s noticed my heart rate kicking up in my chest, he isn’t showing it.

“That an illness has been infecting both your kind and humans, and it presents in a yellow glow under the skin. It sounded serious… it has to be, if they’re sending out warnings. Is this something carried over from your side of the veil?”

“No,” I manage to say, “it definitely isn’t.” He wraps his fingers around my wrist and tugs it closer to his face.

“It’s so beautiful,” he whispers, then shudders as I graze my glowing fingertips over his cheek. “What do we do? How do we… I have to be at the clinic soon. Do I just show Chief Aeliphis? Will she—”

“No!” I shout, and he pulls his head back from my shoulder to stare at me with wide eyes. I force a swallow, trying to make sense of the thoughts ricocheting around my mind. They’re anarchy—spinning and buzzing, bumping into each other and changing direction before I can attempt to latch on to a single one.

“Elas?” August’s enormous eyes are locked on mine like I hold all the answers, but I don’t even know where to begin. Outside the window, sunrise shines its first dim shades of orange over the horizon, and it reminds me that we’re running out of time.

“No, you don’t show them. Younevershow them, okay? Hide this. Don’t say a word and don’t let anyone see. No one but me.”

“But—”

“No buts,” I say, my voice growing louder and more forceful as his eyes widen even further. Fuck, I’m scaring him, and that trapped beast inside me rattles against its cage, wanting to be set free.Comfort him, it screams.Take away all the hurt and make him feelgood again.

“Do you know what this is?” There’s an ember of hope in his eyes, a spark of trust that I might say some magic words and fix everything.

Gods, how I wish I could fix everything.

But he’s on a strict schedule at the clinic, and my watch rotation starts in less than an hour. I can’t drop a bomb of that magnitude on him, knowing I won’t be around to help him cope with the emotional fallout. I can’t abandon him in our aftermath.

All these words that threaten to spill from my mouth will only confuse him. They’ll only make him more afraid, and I don’t know if I could handle him looking at me with that fear in his gaze.

“We’ll figure this out,” I promise him, and the disappointment that replaces his hope is a kick to the knees. I place my glowing hand over the mark on his chest, and we both gasp at the tingling rush that charges between us. He doesn’t look away as I offer him a small smile. “Look, doc. We match.”

He chokes on a quiet laugh that’s almost a sob. “I’m scared,” he admits, and my entire body shudders with the instinct to burn the world down just to protect him from it.

“Don’t be scared, baby,” I whisper, and his eyes flutter up to mine. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.” His gaze darts to my mouth and back up, and he inches forward to press a kiss against my cheek. Sparks and explosions and godsdamned earthquakes rattle inside my body, but I force myself to give him another lighthearted smile. “Anyone ever told you that you’re sweet?”

“Lots of people.”

I laugh at that, and a reluctant grin slips onto his lips as he tucks himself back into my neck. We sit like this for a few minutes as the panic slowly recedes from my chest. “We have to get ready for work,” I mutter into his hair, and he nods against me. “I want you to wear two shirts at all times, and don’t shower anywhere but here. Keep it covered.”

“What about you?”

“My gloves stay on when I’m in uniform, so don’t worry about me.”

“I feel like I should.” I hum in question, and he sighs again. “Worry about you. Why are you always the one coming to my rescue?”

“Everyone has to be rescued sometimes.”

“Even you?” he asks, and I remember how I was trapped in my mind last night, surrounded by iron bars and endless darkness. He pulled me out and held onto me until I could make that impossible transition from dreams to reality.

“Yeah, August. Even me.”

August

“Don’tpassout…don’tpass out… please, for the love of the gods, do not pass out,” I mutter to myself, attempting to steady my breathing as my heart rabbits in my chest. I’m dizzy with the sensation, my vision speckled with multi-colored lights and my ears ringing. Stress isn’t common for me, since I’m notoriously optimistic—to a fault, some might argue.

But right now?

I’m beginning to think I should panic more, just so my body is prepared for its wrath.

“Morning, Mr. Beckett.”

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