Page 134 of Black Light: Cured

I ignore the clothes on my bed and circle around to the other side to sit for a moment. He only said

he didn’t want me spending the night; he never said I couldn’t come over to help him feel better.

Fingers flying over the screen, I text him back with my plan to make him feel better.

Placing the phone face down, I ignore the buzz and gather everything needed for a detox bath.

Epsom salt, sea salt, and baking soda go into my small bag along with some essential oils that are

intended to open up the sinus passages. Everything else I can get at the store on the way.

Several messages greet me when I pick my phone back up, and I skim through them. Thankfully,

he’s not telling me to stay away, but instead is asking me to bring him some over the counter cough

syrup. No way. That stuff has so many extra chemicals that aren’t even needed. What I have planned

for him will work much better.

After several minutes of arguing back and forth, I pack up my stuff and head out. I’m going to get

him what he’s asking for, but hopefully, he’ll let me use my holistic techniques instead. Nothing I have

will harm him in any way. At worst, there will be no improvement. At = best, it will help him manage

his symptoms in a healthy way, allowing him to heal.

Before I leave the room, I scrounge a bit through my closet and pull out a stuffie in the shape of a

cold virus. I won it at a massage convention and had no clue what to do with it, but tonight seems the

perfect time to pass it on to Master Aiden.

Knowing him, it probably won’t make a bit of difference having it, but I’ll know it’s there, even

though I can’t be, and that’s enough to make me feel a bit happier. A huge smile lifts the corner of my

mouth as I head out to get the supplies.

LETTING MYSELF INTO THE HOUSE, I FOLLOW THE SOUNDS OF OVER-EXAGGERATED HACKING AND SLIP

into Master Aiden’s room. Even though I’ve had the maids coming in and making things clean and

organized for me, I’ll still never get used to the stark nothingness that is his house.

Even my feet echo when I move about, and I don’t like it. If I had to stay here alone, I’d probably

go crazy. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I raise my eyebrow as he eyes my bags.

“That’s a lot of bags for cough medicine,” he croaks out, looking anything but pleased. His lips

purse into a thin line as he reaches out to start pawing through them, but I pull them just out of reach,

smirking at the look of annoyance that flashes across his face.

Picking up the one small bag, I pull out the syrup and wave it in front of his face. “I got what you

asked for, but I don’t think you need it.”