Page 179 of Fangs
“It’s not your fault, Ember,” her voice was tearful but firm.
“I can’t… I hate myself for… for hurting you?—"
“You didn’t hurt me,” she corrected me. “Youneverhurt me, Ember. You kept me from breaking completely.”
“I never… never stood up to her,” I sobbed.
“If she knew what your healing power did for me… and all the others… I think she would have stopped summoning you,” Mist said, her voice gentle. “Every time you healed us and gave us a moment to breathe, you stood up to her.”
“I didn’t?—"
“If you need to hear it, I forgive you. I don’t blame you, but you have my forgiveness.”
I didn’t feel I deserved that, but I didn’t say anything. After a moment, I pulled away, and she let me go. I dug one of Sam’s handkerchiefs out of my pocket and swiped at my face.
“Can you tell me everything that happened with you and Hawk?” Mist asked.
I took a deep breath, and then I did. I didn’t leave anything out, and the furrow between her brow deepened as she listened. When I finished, she stared thoughtfully at the exam table for a few seconds.
“I could see him grabbing your arm, but the other stuff? That seems so out of character for him. Even if he was real mad.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I shrugged.
“I checked the bottles,” she added. “There’s a good dozen of Madame’s scent missing.”
I sucked in a breath, trying to soothe the nausea.
“They won’t get any more, though. I poured the rest down the outhouse hole.” She grimaced. “Smells like someone made shit cookies.”
A wild, potentially manic giggle escaped my lips, and she looked at me in surprise. I tried to stop, pressing both hands over my mouth, but the hysterical laughter kept coming.
“You okay there?” she asked, but a wide grin spread across her face.
“Shit. Cookies,” I got out.
Mist started laughing, too, and soon, we were both clutching our stomachs, tears of laughter streaming down our faces. The door opened, and we both looked over to see Tuck standing there, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline.
“What the hell?” he asked.
Neither of us could answer him, and he glanced between us, his lips twitching even as his brow furrowed.
“Should I be worried?”
“Shit cookies!” Mist wheezed through giggles.
The baffled look on his face set us both off again.
29
Maybe laughter was its own kind of healing magic because I felt much better after we managed to calm down.
“You want to go out for drinks tonight?” Mist asked, swiping at her face. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”
“I’d like that,” I said, warmth curling in my chest.
“Hell, why wait? You want to go at noon?”
I grinned. “Yes.”
