Silas crowded me then, and after another retreating step, my back hit a tree. I was trapped. But then, I’d been trapped the moment I’d first laid eyes on him.

  “I care,” he whispered, his eyes bright and intent on mine. “I care if you want me, Chloe.”

  My breath caught, and hope swelled right alongside the heartbreak. He cared. But that didn’t mean he would do anything about it besides crushing my heart in the end.

  “They’ll kill you for caring, Silas.”

  “It’s killing me not to.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked, desperate to know and desperate to leave it unsaid.

  After this, there was no going back. No pretending this didn’t exist between us. After this, I couldn’t save us anymore.

  He hesitated, eyes searching mine. I had a feeling he could see it all laid bare for him: my feelings, how far I was willing to go for this man—and how hopeless I felt about any real future with him. He leaned close, brushing his nose with mine. I lifted my hand and ran my fingers down his bruised cheek.

  He shuddered.

  “How about we don’t talk?” he whispered.

  I closed my eyes, unable to stop the tear slipping out as I agreed to his terms. But he didn’t kiss my mouth. Instead, he licked the tear from my cheek, and somehow, that made it all so much worse.

  I clung to him, soaking up the closeness, inhaling his scent.

  My heart broke even as it knit itself around his name. The first guy I’d ever loved, and here I was, losing him at the same time I fell for him. Nothing and no one had ever made me feel this. And I knew no amount of Seeing would have prepared me for it either.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered.

  “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  He laughed, and I slid my arms around his neck, a final goodbye.

  In the brush nearby, a branch snapped, and we both sprang apart, heads whipping toward the sound. Another branch. Another crack.

  Someone was out there.

  Silas and I shared a look.

  A cry sounded nearby, and we both hurried toward it. Silas hissed at me to stay back, but I ignored him. Whatever had made that sound, it was too distressed to feel threatening.

  We crashed through the brush, and I stopped short, Silas beside me.

  A boy, no more than ten or eleven, looked up at us with wide, fearful eyes. A small branch protruded from just below his ribs. Blood soaked the area around it, staining his shirt and his hands.

  I didn’t know him, but he was clearly hexerei, judging from the frenetic energy radiating from his aura. This kid had magic—and lots of it.

  “What happened?” I asked, moving toward him.

  “I had an accident,” the boy whispered, clearly in pain. “I was practicing my magic and—I guess I’m stronger than I thought.”

  He winced, and Silas knelt in front of him.

  “What’s your name?” Silas asked him.

  “Rusty Musa.”

  Musa.

  Shit, that made him Vylan’s grandson.

  “Rusty,” Silas said, “you’re going to be okay, but I need you to do exactly what I say, okay?”

  Rusty nodded.

  Silas turned to me. “We need to pull it out.”

  “I don’t know, that might do more harm than good,” I said, very aware of how far we were from any supplies.

  Silas shook his head. “Moving him with the branch still inside him will only injure him more.”

  Before we could do anything, a branch at my feet began to tremble. Then it lifted into the air and shot toward Rusty. Silas threw himself in front of the branch, and it buried itself in Silas’ thigh.

  Silas grunted, bowing his head in pain.

  I gasped.

  “I’m sorry!” Rusty looked terrified now, his own injury forgotten.

  Silas reached down and pulled the branch free. Blood leaked from the wound, and I looked from him to Rusty and then eyed the rest of the fallen branches warily.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Rusty said. “My magic is too strong. Please don’t kill me.”

  Silas frowned at him. “I’m not going to hurt you, kid.”

  Rusty didn’t look convinced.

  “You know who I am?” Silas asked.

  Rusty nodded. “The lupin.”

  “Do you know I have magic too?”

  Rusty shook his head, eyes wider now.

  “Well, I do. And do you want to know what it is?”

  Rusty nodded.

  “I can take your magic from you. Just for a little while.”

  Instead of horror, hope shone in the kid’s eyes.

  “Whoa, seriously?”

  “Would you like me to do that for you now? Just until we get you patched up.”

  Rusty didn’t even hesitate. “Yes,” he said, nodding his head emphatically. At my feet, another branch started to tremble. I stepped on it before it could launch, but not before Rusty noticed.

  “Please,” Rusty added.

  “Give me your hand.” Silas held his hand out, and Rusty took it.

  A second later, some of the tension drained from Rusty’s shoulders.

  “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Rusty said, awed by it.

  Silas and I exchanged a look.

  “I thought you just borrowed the magic,” I said. “Not the pain too.”

  Silas shrugged, clearly as surprised as I was.

  “I guess I can do both?”

  Rusty offered a wobbly but relieved smile. “Thanks,” he told Silas then winced down at the stick still inside him. “Got anything for this branch?”

  Silas chuckled. “Not me. But my friend here…” He nodded at me. “She’s the best healer in the whole world.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  With the danger of his magic currently neutralized, Rusty perked up and even tried to walk on his own. That lasted about three steps before he nearly collapsed. Silas grabbed him and carried him the rest of the way home, hanging onto the kid and his magic for safekeeping.

  “You okay?” I asked him once when I caught his expression straining against what I could only assume was uncontrolled wind magic.

  “I’m good.”

  Back in my workshop, Silas distracted Rusty while I worked on removing the branch as safely and as painlessly as possible.

  “Okay, this is probably going to hurt,” I warned him when I had everything prepped.

  I’d done what I could to numb the area using analgesics, but he’d still feel it either way. Apparently, the herbs worked better than I thought because Rusty didn’t make a sound as I slid the branch quickly free.

  He sighed, an exhale that drained all color from his cheeks.

  I watched him carefully in case he fainted, but Silas squeezed his hand, saying, “Damn, kid, you’re braver than me. I would have definitely said a curse word or two.”

  Rusty looked at Silas. “Wait. Can I?”

  Silas glanced at me, and we shared a smile.

  “Yeah, kid.” Silas used his free hand to ruffle Rusty’s hair. “Do what you gotta do.”

  I began stitching his wound closed and then jumped as Rusty yelled, “Shit!”

  “Uh, maybe with a little less pep,” I told him as Silas chuckled.

  Rusty ducked his head. “Sorry.”

  After that, we were treated to a whispered “shit,” “fuck,” and even a “balls” or two until I was done with the stitches.

  Then I handed Rusty a cup of tea.

  “Drink this,” I said.

  “What is it?” Rusty asked.

  “It’s the good stuff,” I told him.

  Rusty nodded solemnly and then chugged the entire contents.

  “Impressive,” Silas said as I took the empty mug.

  “Are you going to give me my magic back now?” Rusty asked.

  I glanced at their still-joined hands. Rusty did too, looking worried.

  “Do you want me to?” Silas asked.

  “Maybe give it a few minutes,” Rusty said. “Wait for the good stuff to kick in.”

  “You got it.”

  “I’m going to make a call,” I said with a pointed look at Rusty.

  “You’re calling my mom, aren’t you?” Rusty asked, but some of the worry had already left his eyes. The tea was working. “She’s going to be pissed. I mean mad.”

  “She’ll be glad you’re all right,” I said.

  Rusty rolled his eyes.

  I turned away before he could see my amusement.

  “I’ll stay with him,” Silas told me.

  “Be right back,” I said and slipped out.

  Vylan answered on the third ring. “Chloe. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Hi, Vylan. I’m sorry to bother you, but I have your grandson here.”

  “Rusty? What’s that kid gotten into now? No trouble, I hope.”

  “It seems his magic practice got away from him,” I said. “He’s fine now, but I think you better come get him.”

  “Where are you?”

  “My shop.”

  “I see. I should call Nicolette, his mother—”

  “I’d really appreciate if you came alone.”

  A single beat of silence passed. “Of course. I’ll be there in twenty.”

  We hung up, and twenty minutes later, on the dot, Vylan arrived.

  By then, Rusty was in deep conversation with Silas about which Marvel character was the best, and I’d cleaned up all evidence of the injury from my workspace.

  I spotted Vylan in the doorway at the same time Rusty did.

  “Grandpa.” Rusty looked caught between relief and fear at the sight of the older man.

  “I hear you had a bit of trouble,” Vylan said. “Of the magical variety.”

  “Yeah.” Rusty hung his head.

  “What happened?”

  “He stirred it up a bit too hard, I think,” I said and then quickly explained the stick we’d found buried in him.

  “I seem to recall your mother making you promise not to practice alone,” Vylan commented.

  “Are you going to tell her?” Rusty asked with raw hope in his eyes.

  Vylan stroked his stubbled chin. “Well, now, that all depends.”

  “On what?” Rusty asked.

  “On whether or not you tell her first.”

  “Dammit,” Rusty muttered.

  Vylan raised his brows.

  “Uh, I think that part of the process is over now,” Silas said, nudging him.

  “Oh.” Rusty cast Vylan another worried look.

  “Are you in pain then?” Vylan asked.

  “Nope. Chloe gave me the good stuff,” Rusty said brightly.

  Great.

  “Tea,” I offered for clarification.

  “Ah.” Vylan’s gaze flicked to where Silas still held Rusty’s hand.

  “I think it’s time,” I told Silas.

  “Right.” He looked at Rusty. “I’m going to let go,” he said. “And when I do, your magic will return.”

  “What if it happens again?” Rusty asked.

  “That’s why I called your grandpa,” I said. “He has wind abilities too, and he can help you get it under control.”

  Rusty visibly relaxed at that.

  “You ready?” Silas asked.

  I noted Vylan’s curious expression, but he said nothing as Rusty nodded, and Silas slowly retracted his hand from Rusty’s.

  Shoulders stiffening, expression tightening, Rusty fisted his hands as if that could somehow keep the magic from slipping out.

  I braced myself for things to go flying.

  On the table between us, a small paring knife rattled and shook, but Vylan raised his hand, and the knife fell still.

  Vylan brushed his finger against Rusty’s then gripped both of the boy’s fists in his own. When he let go, everything remained still.

  “Relax,” Vylan said quietly.

  Rusty exhaled.

  “Thanks, Grandpa,” he said.

  “How do you feel?” Vylan asked him.

  “Better.”

  “Good. Can you do me a favor and wait in the car while I speak to Chloe and Silas?”

  “Yeah.” Rusty hopped off the stool, wincing as his feet hit the ground.

  “Take it easy,” I said. “And hey, those stitches will come out on their own in a few days, but don’t pick at it, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I watched as Rusty made his way outside. When I looked back at Vylan, he was staring at Silas with a curiosity that made my insides twist.

  “You’re a siphon,” Vylan said.

  Silas looked startled. “There’s a term for it?”

  Vylan nodded. “Siphons are rare.”

  “Why do I feel like that’s not a good thing,” Silas said.

  Vylan smiled ruefully. “You’re not wrong. Some covens welcomed them. Revered their power. But others…felt threatened.”

  “Great,” Silas muttered. “More reasons for people to hate me.”

  “Does siphoning include taking away things besides magic?” I asked.

  Beside me, Silas stopped brooding long enough to hear Vylan’s answer.

  Vylan rubbed his chin. “Sure, anything’s possible. A siphon is more or less a drain on another. The energy being drained could be magic. Or pain. Or anything else. Depends on your focus, I guess.”

  Silas and I exchanged a look.

  Anything else?

  That left a ton of possibilities that I wasn’t quite ready to tackle just yet. And from the look he shot me, neither was he.

  Before I could fire off another question, Vylan snapped, “Of course. Siphoning. That’s how you neutralized Merle and Cohen—the day the curse broke.”

  Silas was tense beside me. “Yes.”

  But Vylan wasn’t upset. If anything, he looked intrigued. Curious. Almost entertained.

  “Does Kel know?” Vylan asked.

  “She does.” Silas lifted his chin, and the two men studied one another.

  “And the rest of them?” Vylan asked.

  Silas cleared his throat. “I’d like to keep it between us for the time being.”

  A beat of silence passed.

  “Your secret is safe with me,” Vylan said, and I felt my shoulders sag in relief. “If you do one thing for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Practice,” Vylan said. “Hone it.”

  “Sir, I don’t think—”

  “A siphon is only as safe as his control,” Vylan said.

  Silas hesitated then nodded slowly. “All right. Thank you, sir.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” With a slow shake of his head, he turned to me. “Chloe, you know I admire your gifts and you both have my gratitude for what you did today for Rusty. But the council regulations must be met with compliance, especially by its own leadership. I cannot allow you to practice healing until you’re a recognized healer.”

  “I understand,” I said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

  “You have my thanks,” Vylan said, “Truly.” And then he said to Silas, “You have a lot to offer. Shame to let fear hold you back.”

  I tensed, wondering how Silas would react to Vylan’s bluntness. Half-expecting a blow-up, I was surprised when Silas actually answered him.

  “What I can do… it’s stealing,” Silas said.

  “It’s relief,” Vylan said. “That’s what you gave Rusty. You protected him from himself. Without you, his magic might have killed him today.”

  Silas didn’t answer.

  Vylan looked at me. “Be seeing you both,” he said in a tone that suggested maybe he knew something I didn’t. Then, he turned and walked out.

  Silas didn’t move as we both listened to Vylan get into his car and start it up. A moment later, tires crunched over gravel as Vylan drove away. Still, Silas remained rigidly motionless.

  I kept my distance, aware of some internal battle he was fighting with himself. Whatever Vylan had said to him had only made worse what I’d known all along would be a painful aftermath.

  “You did a good thing today,” I said when the silence became acute.

  Silas rounded on me, eyes blazing with anger that suddenly felt stronger than the force of Rusty’s wind magic.

  “Did I?” he asked.

  “You heard Vylan,” I said. “Rusty could have been killed. Or you. Or me. You stopped that from happening.”

  “I took what didn’t belong to me.”

  “You took his pain, Silas. That’s incredible.”

  But he shook his head. “What I can do... it’s a corruption. Your people talk about balance and nature and the goddess as if your magic is a sacred endowment from the universe. Something to be revered. And I come along and cheat that entire fucking system. I’m the antithesis to what every hexerei was created to be.”

  “Maybe,” I said, which seemed to actually surprise him.

  His anger turned to suspicion. “So, you agree?”

  “Sure,” I said, “if that’s how you choose to use it. Stealing what doesn’t belong. Taking people’s magic against their will. Using your gifts for evil or self-gain.” He scoffed, but I wasn’t done. “That’s the antithesis of what we are, Si. Not siphoning alone. Magic—whether goddess-given or borrowed from the earth—is all about intention. First, do no harm. That’s our mantra. Because that’s what matters. Balance isn’t about give and take, it’s about good and evil. And despite what you seem to think about yourself, I know you. You’re the least evil person I’ve known.”

  He didn’t answer.

  His silence felt like a rejection of my words, and I gave up, turning to my tools so I could clean up. Today had been long. If Silas wanted to hate on himself, I had no energy left to convince him to stop.

  “Help me control it.”

  “What?” I looked up, startled by his calmness almost as much as his request. Sure, he’d promised Vylan, but I hadn’t expected it to be that easy.

  “The only way to make what you just said true is for me to understand how this works. To control it fully. Teach me how. Isn’t that what sent you to find me in the first place?”

  His crooked smirk broke down any resistance I might have had. I found myself giving in without a single hesitation.