of penis, reading is my go-to relaxation tool.
My phone buzzes, I pick it up and see a message from Mama letting me know that she and Rebel are home, and that she’ll see me in the morning. The woman is such an early bird, I couldn’t be any more different if I tried. I love the dead of night, which is how I ended up with the graveyard shift at the shop. Healers are needed at all hours, so someone has to be on hand pretty much constantly. It’s that or we get woken up at the house, and that makes Mama spit feathers.
The grandfather clock in the corner chimes out and lets me know it’s midnight, which is my cue to get up and lock the main doors. The shop is officially closed, but I’ll stay around in case I’m needed. I walk around the place double checking I’ve locked everything up properly, both normal locks and magical ones, before I get settled on the sofa in the middle of the store by the books to take a quick nap. I might like the night, but I barely slept last night, for the last few weeks really, since that night at the warehouse.
It still makes me so mad that they did that to Remy, but I have to remember she’s okay, that she’s supposedly moved past it and she isn’t just bottling it all up like usual. I push down the rising tide of power that follows my anger, it really isn’t the time to be getting worked up.
I get settled, laying down another layer of wards, because otherwise I know I’ll never sleep and then close my eyes.
Banging at the back door of the shop has me jumping up from my doze and scooting to the door to see what the hell is going on. I open the spy glass and find a bloody Bauer being held up by his strange blonde friend, Archer, on one side, and someone I don’t recognize on the other.
Despite my feelings towards Bauer with everything he’s put Remy through because of his ridiculously blinkered, bigoted views on life, I open the door, because Remy would never forgive me otherwise. Even if the guy doesn’t deserve it. I swear, he might be smart, but sometimes that boy is as dumb as a bag of rocks.
I wave them in, Bauer passed out between the other two, I’m guessing the gash on his forehead pouring with blood is why. “What the hell happened?”
The two with him carry him to the table we have set up back here, for this exact purpose, and lay him down on it. I wince as his head cracks down onto the table, damn I guess that’s just another thing for me to fix.
“Just help him,” Archer snarls, and I roll my eyes. I’ve met him a handful of times, and he’s always a total dick, I don’t know why I expected any different now, even if he’s asking for my help. So I shoo the two out of my way and straighten Bauer up before assessing his injuries. The gash on his head is the most pressing, but there’s a slew of other injuries to deal with too. Broken wrist, ribs, sprained ankle.
What the hell happened to him?
I shake my head and close my eyes resting my hands over the head injury, the warmth that comes with healing fills me, like a welcome comfort blanket, and spills from my hands. I hold the image of his injuries in my mind and focus on the one I’m helping, picturing it knitting back together.
It might not be how everyone does it, but my granny taught me this way, and it works.
It takes more than I thought it would to heal him properly, and I keep him unconscious, because even healed, he’s gonna be sore after all of that.
“He’s all fixed up,” I tell them, leaning on the counter behind me, feeling more than a little weak after that.
“Thank you, how much do we owe you?” Archer asks, walking towards me.
“The usual fee,” I tell him. He nods and reaches into his back pocket and hands me a wad of cash.
“This should cover it.”
“Thanks, I’ll be right back, then I’ll help you get him out of here,” I tell them, and turn my back on them to put the money in the register out front. They stay behind, and I can’t help but feel on edge.
I test the wards on the store, only