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“How quickly will the infection progress?” Keenan asked Vivian, who was now examining Ciaran.

“I don’t know,” she replied, her gaze on the male imp. “I’ve never come across a case like this before.” Once she’d finished her examination, Vivian swallowed. “You have a small dose of it in you, Ciaran, just as your sister does.”

Ciaran cursed. “This is just fucking great.”

“Shit, fuck, shit,” Harper hissed. “Is there anything you can do for them, Vivian?”

The nurse lifted her shoulders. “I could form protective shields around their vital organs, but that’s pretty much it. And those shields won’t last more than a month—the particles will eventually rot them.”

“The only thing that will combat death essence is pure life,” Knox added.

“Meaning only an angel can heal them,” Devon guessed.

Hope spiked through Keenan. “There are angels who’ll heal for a fee.”

“True, so the twins’ situation isn’t hopeless,” said Tanner. “But angels are always on the move, so they can be hard to find and pin down. Also, they won’t always intervene—sometimes they claim a person’s death is ‘meant to be.’”

Her eyes glittering, Jolene pulled in a breath through her nose. “Well, neither Khloé nor Ciaran are ‘meant’ to die yet—it’s nowhere near close to their time.”

Too right it isn’t, thought Khloé. “Where do we look for an angel? They spend most of their time at hospitals, clinics, and homeless shelters, right?”

“Places like that, yes,” said Vivian. “One visits my hospital twice a month, posing as a doctor so he can help heal some of the human patients. I’ve never met any others.”

Jolene’s eyes sharpened. “When did the angel last visit your hospital?”

“A week ago. If he sticks to his usual pattern, he’ll be back in seven days.”

“With any luck, we’ll have found another angel before then,” said Jolene. “If we don’t, we’ll speak with him. We will get you healed,” she told Khloé and Ciaran.

“I know you will.” Khloé had every faith in her grandmother. “I’ll do what I can to locate one,” said Knox.

Nobody argued it was lair business. Not when two lives were on the line.

Jolene’s gaze slid back to Vivian. “Get building those shields around their vital organs—that’s step one to fighting this thing.”

The incantor knelt in front of Khloé again and bit her lip. “The sensation isn’t going to be pleasant.”

Khloé sighed. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

Vivian hadn’t been kidding. The magick crackled through Khloé’s body like mini jolts of electricity. She flinched a few times but was mostly able to hold still.

Done, the incantor tilted her head. “How do you feel?”

“Edgy and jittery.”

“It’ll pass soon, once the magick fully settles into your cells.”

“Good.” Khloé looked at her grandmother. “My mom can’t find out what’s happening, Grams. She’s terrified of losing another one of her kids. It keeps her a prisoner in her own mind. Don’t put her through the worry and panic that this would cause her. She’s been through enough.”

Jolene sighed. “I know, but—”

“Khloé’s right,” said Ciaran. “Our mom doesn’t need to know. We’ll find an angel soon and then all will be fine.”

“It will,” agreed Keenan. “Because there’s no way either you or Khloé are dying. No fucking way.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

As she stood under the hot spray of her shower, an exceedingly rare thought crossed Khloé’s mind. I should have listened to my mother. The feel of the water pattering on her wounds was bad enough. But the heat of said water made her burns and blisters sting like a bitch.

Keenan’s hands were gentle and almost … reverent as they soaped her down, careful not to touch any of her injuries. He seemed much calmer, but she could feel his anger—it was almost like a hum in her bones. That anger wasn’t directed at her. It was directed at the bastard he held responsible for her wounds and the infection that had taken hold of her body.

Her demon was just as infuriated, especially since Khloé wasn’t the only one infected. Khloé still couldn’t quite believe that Enoch had also poisoned her brother. Her other half. The person she was closest to in the world. She wanted to kill that cock-smoking, monkey-loving, necrokinetic motherfucker for that alone.

She was pissed with herself, too. Maybe if she’d mentioned her “after effects” to someone sooner, she’d have realized that they weren’t normal. Everyone would have been aware of Enoch’s nifty ability, and they would have been ready for it. And then maybe her brother wouldn’t be infected.

“You and Ciaran are both going to be fine,” said Keenan, no doubt sensing her tension. “All we have to do is find an angel—it’s not like they’re rare.”

She had the feeling he was reassuring himself of that just as much as he was her. “I know. And I know we’ll both be fine.” She had to believe that. “It’s just …”

“You’re mad at yourself for not speaking up about the after effects before now.”

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