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He went rigid at first, then finally put an arm around me. He kissed the top of my head. “You’ve put me through hell,” I whispered. “You don’t get to leave me again. Do you get that? You don’t get to die. I love you, you asshole.”
I felt him sigh. My brother. My twin. There was a time when no one had known me better than he did. Now, we barely knew each other at all.
“Tem,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I pulled away from him. “Shh. I don’t care anymore. Not about any of it. The past is over. What matters is that you’re here. With me. And you flat out don’t get to die. I won’t allow it.”
“I wanted to tell you,” he said. “When you found me in Chicago. I saw you. I heard you. I tried to warn you. I swear to God I did. Anson…he’s not who you think he is. He’s X. You can’t trust him.”
“I know,” I said. “I’ve known for weeks. That’s why I’m keeping him in Dragonsteel.”
Jarred looked at me like I’d grown a third eye.
“Tempest, he’s going to destroy you. He came here to…”
“Jarred,” I said. “All of that? X’s lies. His curse. Anson. It doesn’t matter right now. I don’t care. But an hour ago, you were dying. Right in front of me. I don't know what X or Anson is. But his blood? It’s what healed you. Can’t you feel it? Tell me what it felt like when he…”
Jarred turned away. “It’s a poison. Black magic.”
“What happened to you?” I asked. “When you were in Chicago. This is more than just a spell addiction. How did you get so sick?”
The front door opened. Pat stood there, her eyes swollen from crying. For a split second, my heart dropped. Then I realized they were tears of joy.
“I’ve made you chicken soup,” she said to my brother. “Your favorite. Come inside. Let’s try to get some of it down you. Then back to bed. I won’t have you dying from starvation after I just got you back.”
I moved to help my brother to his feet. He waved me off. Slowly, on shaky legs, he stood. Pat reached for the gun I’d been holding. She quietly put it in her apron pocket as we both followed my brother’s tentative steps. But he managed to walk under his own steam into Pat’s kitchen.
The heavenly smells of her chicken soup drew me. Jarred took his normal seat at the end of the table. Pat had already poured him a steaming bowl. Trembling, Jarred dipped a spoon in, then brought it to his lips.
“God,” he whispered. “I’ve missed this. Tasting. Smelling.”
“Take it easy,” Pat said. “Don’t try to do too much at once.”
“I need to get a hold of Dr. Olivet,” I said.
“Later,” Jarred said. “I’ve been poked and prodded enough. And…this is a family matter, Tem. She’s not family.”
Pat gave me a quiet nod. She hung her apron on a hook and slipped down the hall.
I sat next to Jarred. “Pat’s family too,” I said.
“You know what I mean.”
I sat silently beside him for a moment, watching him eat. Joining him. If there was true magic in Pat’s soup, it worked on him. Some of the color came back into his cheeks.
After he’d finished, we went out to the front room. Pat had vanished into the bowels of the house. She knew whatever Jarred had to say, he only meant it for me.
“Jarred,” I said after a while. “You have to tell me what happened to you in Chicago.”
“Why did you come after me?” he asked.
“Because I heard you’d done something stupid,” I said, my voice taking a hard edge. “You went out there to challenge Turk Sutton. The Alpha of the largest pack in Illinois. You would have gotten yourself killed.”
Jarred dropped his head. He didn’t deny it.
“You should have stayed here.”
“Enough,” I said. “You’d be dead if I had. What I want to know is what happened to you. When I found you, you were so pumped full of drugs. You…”
