a banked fire, radiated into his shoulder. As the heat intensified further, he had to fight not to pull away—except suddenly that wasn’t possible, even if he’d wanted to. Some kind of metaphysical lock had occurred between the brilliant white light glowing in V’s hand and the blackened wound, tendrils of energy emanating out of that palm and butterflying around the infection.
A grunting sound got John’s attention. V was straining, beads of sweat breaking out over his forehead, his chest pumping up and down, the muscles in his throat, shoulders, and chest bulking up—
Like a rubber band snapping, the connection was broken and Vishous careened back, slamming into a glass-fronted cabinet, breaking all kinds of things in a car crash way. John was also thrown to the side, and as strong arms caught him, he latched on.
To Xhex.
Her face was pale and she trembled, even as she had the strength to keep him from hitting the floor.
V cursed and pried himself off the busted shelving. Glass was everywhere—especially in his skin—and he peeled off his black muscle shirt.
Doc Jane went over and turned him around. He had several big shards sticking out of his back, like a porcupine.
“I’m going to have to deal with this,” his shellan said.
“We got bigger problems.” V unceremoniously pulled out a piece of glass and tossed the blood-tipped stabber on the floor. “That is not the Omega. And I don’t have a fucking clue what it is.”
Hours passed, and Xhex stayed with John the entire time. She worried he’d make her leave, but even though things were tense between them, he didn’t. Watching the medical team do their thing—taking samples to culture for bacteria and test antibiotic resistance, conferring with Havers, talking with Ehlena, the clinic’s nurse, having Payne come down for a healing assessment—Xhex relied on her symphath side to read the emotional grids of not just the team, but her mate.
The clinical staff, including V, were alarmed.
John was less so. Because his heart was breaking about Murhder, and that was the main thing for him.
And didn’t that just kill her.
“So here’s where we are.” Doc Jane stepped up to the exam table and put her hand on John’s knee.
Manny was right beside her. So was Ehlena. Vishous was off to the side, his back bandaged, his shirt on once more, the glass on the floor from the busted cabinet swept up a while ago by Fritz, the butler.
Xhex listened with half an ear to “no signs of infection,” “infiltration beyond the first layers of skin,” and “concern about the spread that’s occurring.” She was more interested in the doctor’s emotional grid. Jane was flat-out panicking. Underneath her calm demeanor and even voice, her emotional superstructure—which appeared to Xhex’s symphath side as a system of three-dimensional girders, like the shell of a skyscraper—was lit up in areas at the very core of her consciousness. Generally, the further out from that center, the more superficial the emotions, and the colors and pattern indicated what sector: happiness, sadness, anger, or fear.
What that doctor was currently feeling? Straight-up hot red terror as well as deep purple anger at herself for not having better answers. And the shit was at the very heart of her.
Do I have to stay here? John signed.
“No,” Doc Jane said. “You’re free to go. But we don’t want you on rotation until we know what’s happening.”
“What’s going to change?” Xhex asked. “About how much you know, I mean. You’ve looked into everything.”
Was that black stain going to take him over? Kill him? Or worse …?
“That’s a fair question. The Chosen Cormia is going up to the Scribe Virgin’s library as we speak. She’s going to search the volumes with all of the other sacred females. If there is something in them, it will be found.”
“Okay. That makes sense. But what if there isn’t?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
More conversation, none of it material. All Xhex wanted was a minute alone with her mate. An hour alone. A lifetime.
When they were finally by themselves again, he lay back on the table. Then instantly sat back up.
“John.” As she said his name, he looked at her. “No matter what happens, I’m with you. I got you. I love you.”
Shifting his eyes away, her hellren stared down at the floor and took a deep breath. As the silence stretched out, her anxiety climbed and she found herself breaking a cardinal rule. Out of respect for him, she did not read his grid—usually. Some