Page 22 of Heal Me

“I can only imagine how frustrating this process is for you,” she says gently. “Charlotte, what it means is Mr. Cunningham will remain institutionalized, unless he’s deemed competent in the future. At that point, there would be a trial.”

“And if he’s never deemed competent?”

“Then he’ll remain institutionalized. Until he dies.”

I let her words sink in. This actually isn’t bad news. “So I wouldn’t have to testify as long as he’s ‘incompetent’?”

“Correct.”

“Okay,” I say, letting out a breath. “Thank you so much for keeping me updated.”

“Of course. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”

Ending the call, I see five missed calls from my mom. Not now, Mom.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I find Jen gone and Dr. Cooper napping on the couch. Good, I hope he stays asleep. “Why were you shouting?” he asks, eyes still closed.

“That was a personal matter.” I grit my teeth, silently praying he’ll drop the subject.

“Related to your kidnapping?” His eyes remain closed, which for some reason makes me angrier. Luckily, I don’t have to tell my superior to mind his damn business, as his phone alerts, and I trail behind him to the next emergency.

I’m dead on my feet as I clock out for the evening and spot my security detail on the bench outside. “Ready for our ‘study group’?” Gabe asks with a smile.

“This is going to be much more interesting than my usual study group.” The demon Phenex is trapped in an incantation bowl, and we’re trying to figure out how to release him; the thought being if it works for Phenex with a bowl, it could work for Damion with an Aubry. It’s exciting being a part of a supernatural mystery solving group. The rabbit hole isn’t just deep; it’s bottomless.

We drive to my apartment, and I take a quick shower and join Gabe in the kitchen, where ancient-looking books are spread over the table.

“You’re too dressed up,” I inform him, glancing down at my Harvard sweatshirt and leggings, and over to his charcoal-colored three-piece suit and purple tie. I didn’t think I was into the three-piece suit look. Turns out I was wrong.

He uses his power and he’s now wearing an Ole Miss T-shirt and joggers, and still looks incredibly sexy. Totally unfair. “Better?”

“Much,” I say, trying to stop myself from ogling his body, so not an appropriate friend thing to do. I pop the lasagna I made and assembled earlier into the oven to reheat. “Now, where should we start?” Taking a seat beside him, I try to discreetly get a whiff of his amazing scent. I’m not close enough, and it’d be weird of me to climb into his lap and sniff him, right? Yeah, it’d be weird.

“Let’s do some research.” He hands me one of the smaller books. “You start thumbing through this one; it’s in English.”

“What language is that?” I ask, pointing to his book opened to a page with strange-looking symbols.

“The Adamic language.”

“I’m not familiar.”

“The language of the gods.”

“I hope you don’t expect worship,” I tell him, one eyebrow raised.

“Never said I was a god,” he says, turning the page. “Although demigods are revered throughout history for a reason.”

I flick his muscular arm. “Do you really have wings?”

“I told you; I only break those out on special occasions,” Gabe says with a Cheshire-cat smile, returning his attention to the book. What constitutes a special occasion for a demigod? A part of me would like to find out, but then I remember my little freak-out from kissing a demigod, and I squirm uncomfortably in my chair. Gabe and I haven’t talked about it, and I’m not sure I want to. My therapist said it’s not unexpected I would be triggered, but that doesn’t magically erase the embarrassment.

Doogie walks into the room and right over to Gabe, hopping up in his lap. “Hey, Doogie,” Gabe says, giving him a scratch. And now I’m jealous of my cat.

“I can’t believe how quickly he’s warmed up to you. He’s usually pretty shy.”

“Maybe I just have the magic touch,” Gabe says. Glancing at his hands, I quickly avert my eyes. I got a small demonstration of just how magical those hands are the other night.

Focusing on the words in front of me, I learn about Tibetan demon traps crafted out of yarn. Once the demon is ensnared, the trap is burned, thus destroying the demon. There’s no mention of how to release a demon from the Tibetan trap. Makes sense. If you go to the trouble of trapping a demon, the last thing you’re worried about is safely releasing it. “I haven’t found anything relevant to the incantation bowl problem. How about you?” I ask.

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