Chapter Eighteen

Reagan

 

“What?” I asked and gripped Luke more closely. My stomach had bottomed out. I could barely see through the rain, and he’d never know that tears of absolute terror were mixing together with the raindrops on my wet face. “Luke, we have to—”

“Nothing to be done,” he said. His chest rose and fell in hard spurts. “Specially made for shifters. Hasn’t worked yet, though. I might be their first success.” His humor was wry, and his voice was more robust, belying these horrible words. “Reagan, please. You shouldn’t be here. Not if—”

“Shut up,” I snarled. “This is where I should be. With you. Dammit, I should’ve listened.”

“What a shock,” Luke murmured.

His skin was feverish against mine, and his stubble scraped against my skin as he moved closer. Lips brushed my neck, and electricity danced through my skin.

“Luke, please hold on,” I said even as the tang of his blood burned my lips. “Please, please.”

“I shouldn’t have left you,” he said. “Back there. But then, I shouldn’t have claimed you. Even if I saw you, and it had never happened before. The instinct. I could feel it in every cell, pullin’ me to you. I never wanted anything…” His voice was breaking apart. “Reagan.”

“Hey, Wolf, you’re stuck with me,” I said. “I like working for you.”

“Is that what this is?” There was a vague note of wicked amusement. “Wish I’d known sooner…”

“Maybe it’s more than that,” I said in a small voice. The other night, when he’d pulled me into his arms and held me, letting me cry. “Maybe I like you.”

“Don’t tease a dying man, Grace,” Luke rumbled.

“I’m not,” I said, and a curious sensation flowed through my body. Calm. Luke’s breathing evened out. “And you’re not dying. I told you, I won’t let that happen.”

There was silence for a few minutes, and the rain pounded down while the ocean heaved.

I’d never felt so alone, but so anchored. So sure.

“Did you—are you doing something?” Luke asked, and his voice sounded clearer.

“I’m—”

“If you lied,” he said, and my heart seized with fear, “I don’t want to see you again—”

“Reagan! Luke!” Fallon’s voice echoed through the night, and relief swarmed over me.

“Over here!” I shouted. “He’s hurt bad, poison, and—”

Suddenly, we were surrounded by shifters, appearing out of the rain and shaking the water out of their eyes. Fallon crouched down and touched my shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she said. “We’re here.”

“We’ve got it, Reagan,” someone said, and they tried to pry me away.

“Is there a healer?” I demanded and held on more tightly.

“Reagan, let him go. I’m right here,” Niles said and smiled at me. “It’s okay.”

Slowly, I allowed them to take Luke. All of the warmth in my body seemed to go with him.

Stumbling to my feet, I struggled to walk, and someone pressed against me. Helping me. Fallon, maybe. Luke was being carried away, with Niles hovering at his side, patching him up. Meanwhile, other shifters shot off to comb the woods when I told them about the Skrors.

The next hour passed in a blur, with the others bringing Luke back to camp and healing him more there. Then, once he was stable, everything was packed up, and we headed home. All I wanted to do was sleep, but I couldn’t. I had to make sure Luke was okay.

It was sometime in the middle of the night when we got home, and Rogda was waiting. She exclaimed when she saw me, covered in sand, dirt, blood, and rain, and packed me off to the shower. Luke was brought upstairs, unconscious and pale. No one would tell me how he was.

After I’d quickly scrubbed myself and gotten dressed, my fingers shaking, I crept upstairs.

"Ma, I don't understand it," Niles was saying, and I flattened myself against the wall. "He should be dead. I found the knife—it was covered in it, yet there’s no poison in him. Like it vanished.”

“Perhaps Reagan is a healer?”

“It wasn't healing, though. That much I know.” He paused. “And I thought Reagan was a stasis. Anyway, the wound was pretty serious. He’s going to need to stay off his feet for a week.”

“Talk to Xander,” Rogda said, and I pressed a hand to my thundering heart. "Maybe Luke has developed some kind of antibody. Or perhaps it wasn't potent enough."

“Maybe. It’s so strange,” Niles murmured, and I heard his footsteps come towards the door. “I’ll see you later.” I moved deeper into the shadows.

“Thank you, my boy,” she said, and Niles came out the door.

He didn’t even glance my way as he tiredly hurried down the stairs. I darted forward, poking my head into Luke’s room. Rogda was arranging Luke’s pillows, and she touched his brow, then sighed.

“Reagan, dear, is there something you need to tell us?”

I jumped and came in. “What do you mean?”

“I know you overheard what Niles said.” She looked at me, her one eye serious and blazing. “How did you do it? Can you replicate it? Are you a healer?”

“I don’t know what I am,” I whispered as I shook from head to toe. “There’s no rhyme or reason to my gifts—if they even are that. Sometimes I feel like I’m going insane.”

She nodded and looked down at him. “Niles will tell Xander, and he will not believe the antibody story for long. Neither will my son. You’d better figure out what you’re going to tell them, especially if you knew you weren’t a stasis before you came into Winfyre.”

Luke murmured something, and I all but ran to the bed. “Luke?”

“You need to do it for your sake, Reagan, but for his, too,” Rogda said, and I looked up at her. “He’s not conscious, but he’s been calling out for you. And sometimes asking for you to leave.” My heart squeezed. “I’m going to go eat and have some tea, maybe nap.”

“What?” I asked, startled.

“You’re going to stay here.” It wasn’t a question. “I’ll be downstairs.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“He should be,” Rogda said. “You know what to do. Let me know if anything changes, though. Just in case. Tonight, well, things can get tricky, especially if his temperature spikes.”

I nodded and watched Rogda go. Then I looked around Luke’s room. It was simple, with one big bed, a dresser, and a trunk, along with a few other plain pieces of furniture. Nothing on the walls, except for one neat bulletin board with Winfyre plans.

There was a chair at his desk, and I dragged it over, curling up on it and looking down at Luke. He was sweating, and his eyes flickered under the lids.

Reaching over to the basin by his head, I soaked a towel and dabbed it across his forehead. It was like someone was squeezing my heart a little more tightly every time I looked at him. I wanted those bright eyes to blink open. I wanted him to smile. Hell, I wanted him to say something infuriating.

A hiccupping sob escaped me, and I pulled back, pressing my forehead into my hand.

“This is my fault,” I said. “You’d probably disagree, but then you’d have this look like, yeah, it is kind of your fault. See, I didn’t stay put, and then those Skror guys showed up. I ran.”

I hesitated.

“Luke, I don’t know what I am—that’s why I lied,” I whispered. “I think I thought since nothing tangible had manifested, I was still a stasis. Maybe a little weirder, but now, tonight, I don’t think so.” I chewed on my lip. “Usually I don’t avoid things, but I have been avoiding it. Until tonight.

“I think I saved you,” I whispered. “I don’t know how, though. And I don’t want to disappoint anyone or get their hopes up or scare them.” I rubbed my face. “I think you understand that.”

“And I’m scared,” I finally added. “I’m really goddamn scared.”

I fell silent and hugged my knees up to my chest. Luke slept on, and I watched. I couldn't have fallen asleep if I wanted to. But at one point, I slipped around, angling my body so that I could rest my head on his bed and lay a hand on his. Exhaustion crashed down on me, and my fingers tightened convulsively while tears leaked free.

 

“That doesn’t look comfortable.”

Jerking upright, I saw that Luke was sitting up and watching me. I must have dozed off because weak sunlight was drifting into the room. The room spun as I blinked at him.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave?” he asked. But his tone wasn’t harsh or demanding; it was amused and affectionate. “And that the second floor was off limits?” Luke nodded. “I did. Hmm.”

“Extenuating circumstances,” I murmured.

“Go to bed, Reagan,” he said and gave me a tired smile. “I’d have let you continue to sleep here, but I was afraid you were going to fall out of the chair.”

I was indeed slipping out of it and straightened, my side prickling uncomfortably. Getting up, I sank onto his bed and hugged a knee up.

“I’ll go in a minute,” I promised. “But first, can I get you anything?”

“You can go to bed and stop worrying,” Luke said and smiled.

His eyes were half-lidded, and his hand was still under mine. Even after all my maneuvering around. He turned it palm up and linked his fingers with mine.

“How did you sleep?” I asked, trying not to hone all my attention to my hand.

“Fine. I can’t believe you stayed up here, Reagan. That wasn’t necessary.”

“No big deal,” I said, and my heart was beating so fast. It was hard not to look at our hands. But I wanted to remember this moment. The drowsy gentleness of Luke and the wash of pale light over his skin. “You look so much better. Not that you don’t look good, you know, I just mean you’re not—you looked rough last night. But still good.” My jaw bobbed, and I clenched it. “Sorry.”

Luke laughed. I could tell he was still kind of out of it. “I shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t?” I asked.

His hand tightened on mine, and I leaned forward. "I shouldn't enjoy you worrying about me." My stomach did a flip-flop as his eyes closed. "But I do. I woke up and found you here. Of all places."

“Where else would I be?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Luke said. “Safe.”

“Oh, then I’m exactly where I should be,” I said with a bite of sass.

Luke’s eyes slit open. “I still don’t understand why you’re not afraid.”

My lips parted, and I was about to demand, afraid?

But the word caught in my throat, and my heart ached. Those dropped hints and worries. The reluctance to get close. Maybe even the flare-ups. Luke had misgivings around being a shifter. Consequently, he thought other people would, too. After meeting Sarrow, I could see why.

He feared other people’s being afraid of him. But, also, in some way, I wondered if he thought that maybe people should be afraid of him. Of his wielding his power like Xander did.

“I’m not afraid, Luke. You know why?” I asked, and he gazed at me. “I know you. You like to think you’re a hard read, but I’ve got you pretty much figured out.” I moved closer and kissed his cheek. “Get some more rest.”

With that, without giving him a chance to respond, I got up and left the room. Outside his door, I caught my breath and pushed shaking hands through my hair.

Once again, I hadn't been completely honest with Luke.

It wasn’t just because I knew him.

It was because I was falling for him.