The miles to Cadan’s house were the longest he’d ever traveled. He was a bastard for dragging Esha into this. Though it had seemed necessary at the time, every sound of pain stabbed him with regret.
Finally, after half an hour of cold fear, they arrived. Warren carefully carried Esha’s limp body into the house, desperate not to hurt her any more.
“What’d you do to her?” he asked the healer as he climbed the stairs to one of the bedrooms. A faint blue glow surrounded Esha, and though she was pale, her face was no longer twisted with pain.
“The blue glow is a halting spell. There’s poison in the wound. Now it won’t travel any farther. But she’s in less pain because of her familiar.”
“The cat?”
“Yeah, he can lend some of his strength to her. All familiars can.”
Warren looked down at the cat, who ignored him. Maybe the beast wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, he’d be thawing a tuna filet for him at the first opportunity.
“But you’ve stopped the poison. You’ll be able to heal her.” It was more a statement than a question as he laid her upon the bed. Esha would get better. She had to.
“I don’t know.”
Somebody was torturing her, and all she wanted to do was sleep. Esha tried to lift an arm to push away the person who was dragging sandpaper across her cheek, but the arm weighed a million pounds.
Or had someone tied her down? A chill crept along her skin, and her breath grew short. She couldn’t move. Someone had tied her up. No. Her muscles burned as she tried to struggle, but she could barely move her limbs. Though it hurt like a bitch, she dragged her eyes open.
And stared into the furry face of the Chairman. She exhaled.
“Go away, tuna breath,” she gasped.
When the cat settled by her side, her heart rate slowed, and her breathing calmed. If the Chairman was corporeal and sleeping next to her, they were safe. Had they been in danger, he’d have turned to smoke to protect himself until he could help her. Still, being weakened like this, unable to protect herself, made a cold sweat break out on her skin.
Soft sheets were smooth against her palms, the light in the room pleasantly dim. Enough to see by, but not enough to irritate her pounding head. It was warm as well, and contrary to her previous fear, she was held down only by a light blanket. Safe.
Relatively.
She turned her head and caught sight of the door to the room just as a large figure walked through it.
“Esha.” Relief was strong in Warren’s voice. “How do you feel?”
He knelt by the bed, his eyes searching her face. He looked… tired. Handsomely rumpled. Golden hair, normally at least somewhat neat, stuck out and a frown seemed permanently etched on his face.
“Water.” Her voice scratched in her throat as though she were trying to swallow a burr.
He nodded, his lips tight. When he returned to the bed with a small glass of water, he lifted her head gently and held the glass up to her lips.
“What… happened?” she asked when she finished.
Her eyes drifted closed as he recounted the attack at the cave, memories of which came to her in hazy bits and pieces, and the healer who had fixed her up. “You should be back on your feet within a few days. Whatever poison was in those claws is out of your system, but it weakened you. The healer had never seen the like.”
“Not poison. Magic.”
It had been her penance for removing the letter from the cave. But she’d lived, hadn’t she? Had she been alone, she would have died. Warren had saved her life. It put a bitter taste in her mouth. That was her job.
“My letter?” Just saying the words sapped what little strength she had.
“Later. Rest,” he said.
She wanted to argue, but was too weak to speak. She swore she felt his hand brush her hair away from her face, but she didn’t have the strength to open her eyes to look. He’d saved her, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep. And now he was taking care of her. Though she hated relying on anyone, it was… nice… to have someone take care of her.
Unusual, but nice.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN