I half-carried, half-dragged Zane inside, kicking the door shut behind us. The interior was simple but well-equipped: a small living area, a kitchenette, and what looked like a bedroom through a door to the right.
"Medical supplies?" I asked, lowering Zane onto the couch.
"Bathroom cabinet," he mumbled, his eyes fluttering closed. "And under the sink. Magical antidotes are labeled."
I rushed to gather what we needed, returning with an armful of supplies. Zane was now unconscious, his breathing rapid and shallow. The wound in his side had spread, the blackened veins now reaching toward his chest.
"Don't you dare die on me," I muttered as I cut away his shirt to better access the injury. "Not after that kiss. That would be such a cliché."
Working quickly, I cleaned the wound as best I could, then searched through the magical antidotes for something that might counteract the poisoning. I found a vial labeled "Shadow Toxin Neutralizer" that seemed promising and carefully applied it to the blackened area.
The effect was immediate. Zane's body arched off the couch, a cry of pain tearing from his throat as the antidote fought against the magical poison. I held him down as best I could, murmuring reassurances I wasn't sure he could hear.
Gradually, the blackened veins began to recede, the unnatural glow fading from the wound. Zane's breathing steadied, his body relaxing as the antidote did its work. I finished cleaning and bandaging the injury, then sat back on my heels, exhaustion washing over me in a wave.
We were safe, for now. The wards around the cabin would prevent the cultists from finding us, and the Bureau would eventually realize we were missing and send help. All we had to do was wait.
I moved to the chair opposite the couch, intending to keep watch while Zane recovered. But my body had other ideas. The adrenaline crash hit hard, and before I knew it, my eyes were drifting closed, the events of the day pulling me down into darkness.
I woke to the feeling of being watched. Opening my eyes, I found Zane awake and staring at me from the couch, his color much improved though his expression was guarded.
"How long was I out?" I asked, stretching to ease the stiffness in my neck.
"Couple of hours," his voice stronger than before. "The wards are holding. No sign of pursuit."
I nodded, relieved. "How's the wound?"
"Better, thanks to you." He gestured to the neat bandage on his side. "That was good work with the antidote."
"Just doing my job," I shrugged, though we both knew that wasn't entirely true.
A silence fell, the memory of our kiss hung between us, impossible to ignore but difficult to address.
"About what happened in the woods," Zane finally began, his mismatched eyes holding mine.
"We don't have to talk about it," I interrupted, suddenly afraid of what he might say. "Heat of the moment, adrenaline, near-death experience. I get it."
"Is that what you think it was?" His voice was soft but intent.
I looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. "I don't know what it was. I don't know what any of this is anymore." I gestured vaguely, encompassing the safe house, our injuries, the entire bizarre situation we found ourselves in.
Zane shifted on the couch, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his wound. "I know what it was for me."
I looked back at him, my heart hammering in my chest.
"It was something I've wanted to do since the first time you called me 'Sparkle Jerk,'" a small smile playing on his lips. "Something I've been fighting because it's complicated and messy and probably against about fifty Bureau regulations."
"Only fifty?" I managed a weak joke.
His smile widened briefly before turning serious again. "I care about you, Winter. More than I should. More than is safe for either of us."
"Because of the prophecy?" I asked, needing to know.
"In spite of it," he corrected. "The prophecy is part of you, but it's not all of you. I care about the woman who eats saltine crackers when she's stressed, who talks to her fish like he understands, who makes terrible jokes in the face of death."
Something warm unfurled in my chest, a feeling I'd been trying to ignore for weeks. "It's not just me and you, though, is it? There's Milo, and whatever is happening between you two. And Rook and Fenric…" I trailed off, unsure how to articulate the complex web of feelings that had developed among our strange little group.
Zane nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know. Like I said, complicated and messy." He reached out, his hand finding mine across the small space between us. "But maybe that's okay. Maybe we don't need to figure it all out right now."
