Page 25 of Hybrid Heroics

Halfway down the hall, an uneasy feeling rolled through my chest, constricting my lungs until I could hardly take a shallow breath.

The door to Sloane’s temporary room was cracked open. None of us had been in there since we laid her down. I was the last one out, and I knew I had closed it.

Either the latch was faulty, and the hall was drafty or…

I shoved the door open, and Talia froze.

Milky brown eyes stared back at me as the vial in her hand began to shake, blue goo balancing precariously on the edge of the glass. The scent of rotting fruit and rubbing alcohol singed my nostrils.

As the first drop fell, landing on Sloane’s cheek, my composure snapped.

I was across the room in a blink, my hand wrapped around Talia’s throat. As soon as I touched her, her eyes regained their natural greenish-hazel coloring.

“You saw that, right?” The last thing I needed was to question my sanity.

“Yeah,” Briggs drawled in a low rumble.

“Let her go,” Palmer commanded, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Stone, let her go,” he said, softer this time, his voice thick with worry. “Briggs can take her out of the room. I need your help.”

I glanced at the mage, his index fingers and thumbs an inch apart, floating over Sloane’s cheek. Briggs touched my shoulder, and with great fucking effort, I released Talia.

“Yell for Vaughn,” Palmer directed. “And don’t let her out of your sight.”

My entire body vibrated with suppressed fury, but I gave the mage my attention.

When Briggs shut the door, Palmer frowned at me. “It’s poison.”

“I know. I can smell it.”

He shook his head. “It’s burning her skin. I can’t imagine what it would have done if—”

“How do we stop it, Palmer? Focus.”

“You’ll have to burn it.”

I took a step back as I grimaced. “What?”

“I’ve stopped it from spreading, but if I move my hands, it’ll start again. Either you burn her, or I’ll have to swap places with Murphy and do it—”

“Fuck.” I shook my hands out before closing and opening my fists a few times. “Fuck.”

“Now,” he demanded.

I growled at him as I called a flare of hellfire to the tip of my index finger. Shouting reached my ears, growing louder as Vaughn stormed into the room.

The flame licked across my skin, arcing off my fingertip like a talon. My hand shook as I inched closer to Sloane’s cheek. I blew out a steadying breath, and with the precision of a surgeon, I touched the blue hellfire to the poison.

Palmer didn’t flinch when I used his fingers as a guide. He didn’t make a sound as his skin burned along with hers. Vaughn met my rage-filled gaze, nodding his head to let me know he felt the same way.

When the mage pulled his blistered hands away, the fae waved an icy palm over them. Palmer shooed him away, not wanting to be healed until our mate was. But Vaughn wasn’t in the mood to be argued with either, healing and soothing until the skin was raw and pink.

“Now,” Palmer murmured as he leaned closer to Sloane, tilting his head to get a better angle. “Check the inside of her mouth, too.”

“She’s going to be so mad that I had my hands in her mouth while she was unconscious,” I whispered, hooking my finger between her lips to take a peek. “I don’t see anything except the hole I just made.”