slid the jacket down my arm. The leather hit the floor and he kicked it aside.
“Don’t do that,” I protested, my voice trembling and tears streaking my face. He’d been careful, but getting the sleeve off had jostled my elbow. “That’s brand new.”
“Quiet, vayanin.” He studied my fitted sweater. Wrapping one hand around my upper arm, he stretched the collar to his mouth and bit down. With the fabric between his teeth, he ripped the seam open with his other hand.
“Zylas!” I gasped. “Don’t—”
Despite his efforts to stabilize my arm, the motion was too much. The room spun and my face smacked into his chest, my vision blurring. My glasses clattered to the floor.
He peeled my sweater off, leaving me in a tank top. I glanced at my arm—and he caught me as I slumped to the floor. My jacket had been hiding it, but elbows were not supposed to look like that. Not like that at all.
While I hyperventilated, he calmly studied the joint. “I will straighten it first. I did this for your fingers, na? It will be fast.”
Reminding me about the time a Red Rum rogue had methodically dislocated half my fingers wasn’t helping my lightheadedness. “Okay.”
A long pause. “Does it hurt too much?”
“I can handle it,” I whispered faintly.
He tightened his hold on my waist. “I know vīsh … It makes pain less, but I have never used it on a hh’ainun.”
I almost said I was fine, but the injury was excruciating and the healing would only make it worse. “Try the spell on me, please.”
His warm palm pressed against my cheek. “I will use only small vīsh first.”
I nodded against his hand. Magic tingled through my face, then flashed hot. The warmth rushed outward, filling my body—and the pain evaporated.
“Oh,” I breathed. “This is good. I feel good.”
I tilted my head back and smiled. Something rather like alarm flickered over his features.
“Vayanin?”
“You’re mean to call me that. Can’t you say something nice? Or you could use my name. I like my name. It’s a good name. My mom called me little bird, because robins are birds and—”
“Can you stand?”
I pushed off him, swaying dramatically. “Of course I can stand. I feel good now. I’m fine. I don’t think I’m even hurt, but you—oh, your hand is hurt, I remember—”
As I babbled, he grasped my upper arm and my wrist with each hand.
“—so you should take care of your injury because I’m fine, really, and—”
He pulled sharply on my forearm. A dull pop sounded and a disturbing twang ran all the way up to my shoulder.
“Oh.” I blinked at my arm. “You fixed it. So I’m fine now, right?”
“You are not fine,” he muttered.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Even that little vīsh made you zh’ūltis.”
“Why would you use magic to make me stupid?”
He drew me into the middle of the room. “Sit.”
I sat, my mouth turned down in a sulk. “You made me stupid on purpose.”
“Not on purpose,” he growled, crouching beside me. He handed me my glasses. “I told you I did not know how that vīsh works on a hh’ainun. Lie down.”
Obediently, I lay back, returning my glasses to my nose. They’d survived their fall with no damage. “Does that vīsh make you stupid?”
“No.”
“Then why me?”
“Because you are nailis to this vīsh.”
“I’m not weak. You said so. When we were in the bathroom, remember? You said you thought I wanted you to die, and I told you you were stupid to think that—”
He straightened my arm out and prodded the joint.
“You know, I always thought that was extra stupid of you, because you can read my mind, so you should’ve known that ...” I trailed off, frowning. “But you can’t read all my thoughts. You said you can’t hear the things I think about you.”
“Except insults,” he rumbled distractedly as a glowing red circle, filled with demonic runes, appeared beneath my arm.
“So you don’t know anything that I think about you?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Be quiet. I am working.”
I bit my tongue. Magic crawled over my arm, and the spell flared brightly. I waited for the burning pain the healing magic had caused me before, but nothing penetrated the feel-good haze blanketing my thoughts. Whatever that “little vīsh” had been, it was strong stuff.
“You are healed now,” he told me.
Sitting up, I tested my elbow. Seemed fine, but I was starting to realize I had no idea what condition my body was in. All my nerves were tingling pleasantly.
“Zylas.” I peered at him, surprised by his wary expression. “If you