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Chapter Twenty-Five
Tamsin
A glance at my watch tells me it’s approaching six o’clock. I’m starving and my magic has reached an intensity that isn’t sustainable for much longer. Plus, I’m beyond frustrated. I’ve been at this for nearly twelve hours straight and it feels like I haven’t made any progress.
With a groan, I get up and walk into Luciana’s room. She looks so peaceful lying there on the table. Her breathing steady, her eyes not racing beneath her closed lids as they sometimes do. I wonder if she dreams while she sleeps, and if she does, I hope they’re not as awful as my dreams of late.
Hot tears trickle down my cheeks as I look at her. Why can’t I solve this? I’ve never met a challenge I can’t solve. Not until now. I reach out and pick up her hand, orange, leathery skin, claws, and all. My sister is in there somewhere. I know she is. She has to be.
As my skin touches hers, my magic pulses out, sending a tremor across the room that rattles the table and the monitor screens and the cabinet doors. Luciana’s eyes flicker. And that’s when it hits me like an oncoming train.
I’ve been trying to solve a magical problem without magic.
The answer has been staring me in the face this whole time. I’ve been using modern science, the things I was taught at medical school, and all my years of research and experience since then. But none of those things incorporate magic. Why would they? It’s human knowledge, and study, and technology.
I get up and stride swiftly back into the lab. With trembling hands, I pick up the petri dish with the latest variation of my chemical compound mixed with Luciana’s cells. My magic is rippling off me in waves, growing even stronger with each beat of my heart. It’s been trying to speak to me this whole time, and I’ve been ignoring it. It’s been trying to help the one I love. It needed an outlet, so it latched onto the other person I care for deeply: Blake.
For a moment, I contemplate whether I should write a specific spell for Luciana’s cure, but my magic only pounds at me even more incessantly. I’d told Blake he had trust issues, but I’m the pot calling the kettle black. I’ve distrusted my magic ever since I tried to save my parents and failed. I’d bound it, forgotten about it for years. Now it’s time to surrender to its call. To my instincts as a healer. My magic wants to help.
So, holding the dish in my hand, I let my magic flow forth with no command or direction. Wild and free to do as it desires. A green glow surrounds my hands and the dish within, and then a flash of light pulses off it. I set the dish back down, draw up a sample, and place it on a slide beneath my microscope.
I hold my breath as I lean over and gaze through the magnifying lens.
As I watch, the demonic cells fade and the witch cells multiply. I let out a whoop of happiness. Then I turn to the large beaker of serum I have bubbling next to me, and I let my magic flow into that as well. When my power fades, I suck up a syringe of the liquid and head back into Luciana’s room. I slide the needle into her arm and inject the whole syringe.
My body trembles as I step back and watch my sister’s reaction.
For a moment, nothing happens. Then, Luciana twitches, and her eyes fly open. Her body begins to convulse in a seizure, the whole table rattling. My heart climbs into my mouth and I step forward and grab her hand. My magic flows into her, and I wince as her claws sink into my skin. Blood drips off of my wrist, but I keep increasing the intensity of my magic.
Her seizure ceases abruptly, and her heart monitor lets out a steady drone as she flatlines.
“Luciana!” I scream.
I yank my bloody hand out of hers and place both palms flat on her chest, then send a jolt of magic into her. She convulses and her eyes fly open again as she sits bolt upright on the table. Her yellow eyes lock onto me, and she busts the straps on her arms and reaches her clawed hands for my throat.
But it’s not leathery skin and sharp nails that encircle my neck. Her palms feel smooth against my skin, and I watch as the orange recedes, moving down her arms as if she’s a chameleon changing color. Normal skin replaces it, and the spikes from her head vanish, and finally, her eyes change from bright yellow to cornflower blue.
“Tamsin?” Luciana gasps. She drops her hands, staring at them in horror, eyes wide.
Tears spring from my eyes and I let out a shuddering breath. But my smile is so big it could split my face. “Yes. I’m here.”
I reach out and touch the side of her face. She’s completely bald, but she’s never looked so beautiful to me than right now in this moment.
“What—what happened?” she asks, looking around her at the room and starting to tremble.
“It’s okay,” I say softly. “You’re safe. Everything is going to be okay now.”
“Well done,” says a voice behind me.
A familiar voice, a voice from my past.
I spin to see a warlock standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. A man I haven’t seen in twenty years. It’s Aengus, one of my old friends, and Blake’s. But the look he casts over me sends a shiver across my skin. A shiver which quickly turns into a spike of dread as he enters the room, and six demons follow at his heels.
I step between Luciana and the door, shielding her with my body.
Aengus chuckles. “Did you really think the Night Guild had given up so easily? That Blake’s little mind-wipe of that trespasser would solve all your problems?” His lips turn up in a smirk. “Too bad I followed him and met up with his contact myself.”
“Why are you doing this?” I growl. “When Blake finds out—”
