Page 12 of The Mage's Rake
“Alan.”
I couldn’t help it. Alan huffed and rolled his eyes.
“Hugh… you’re… I think you’ve been cursed.”
A heavy thunk resounded through the room. Aileen was standing in the doorway, frozen in shock, her bag at her feet. The elderly molly’s blue eyes filled with tears.
“Say it ain’t so, Alan!” She whispered hoarsely, her country accent thickening in distress.
Alan’s head lowered, and the white glow faded. The hand on my chest curled into a fist. Tension thrummed through his wiry body. I fell silent as Alan’s declaration finally hit me. I’d been cursed. I was dying. Or nearly. Alan shook his head and focused on me. I was surprised to see how upset he was. I raised my left hand to cover his fist. His left hand covered mine. We were connected now, holding each other together. Holding each other together.
I leaned forward to rest my forehead against his. It felt good to have him so close. If the chance of dying meant that I would have another opportunity to be with Alan, I’d risk it. I had no intention of dying either.
No. I wasn’t going to think of that. I was going to enjoy the feel of Alan’s hand beneath mine. The soft brush of his silvery-white hair against mine. The scent of strawberries. His lips were so close… So close, and yet so far. And Aileen was in the room. She moved forward and then paused.
“Alan.”
“I know,” Alan said after a moment. “Let me think... It’s not taken right away. Biding its time. We have time.”
Alan pulled away then. Was I imagining that he did so reluctantly? I could be imagining things. After all, I was a cursed tom. My body ached. Would my other senses soon follow?
I had no idea what Alan was doing, but after infusing some kind of purple pendant with another ball of white magic, he began to pound some herbs together into a thick mush. Aileen helped.
“Tala, bless my hand,” murmured Alan with another string of incantations. In between, he commanded me, “Don’t move a muscle, Hugh.”
I forced myself to sit still and watch the two mutter together over their work. Aileen’s bag still lay on the ground. Forgotten. If I got up to retrieve it for Aileen—Alan would kill me before the curse could.
“It’s a full moon,” Alan said.
“Aye. I thought that as well.”
“If it was bonded this night, beneath a full moon, it may end by the next.”
“A month then.” Aileen sighed with relief. Wait. With relief? “We have a month.”
“A month?” I gasped.
“Be glad it wasn’t an instant one,” Aileen shot back. “Then we’d be kicking your ass into a grave, and what would His Majesty say?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I grunted, allowing her to push me back onto the bed. “I’d be dead.”
Aileen tore off the rest of my shirt, baring me to my waist. I was once again struck with an urge to make a joke, but the hard look on Alan’s face as he drew near told me I best hold my tongue. I allowed Aileen to push me onto my back. Alan dippedhis fingers into the bowl and proceeded to sign a rune on my chest with a circle around it. With the paste.
I looked down my nose at my tan chest. There was a smattering of dark hair across the hard planes of my muscled chest. Aileen smirked. Alan looked like he would rather be anywhere than touching my chest. Any concern for my well-being seemed to have disappeared entirely. I flopped my head back on the small pillow and sighed.
“I was going to make a joke about aphrodisiacs,” I began.
“Don’t,” Alan said sharply.
Holding the pendant in his left hand and raising another ball of white light, Alan once again began to chant. This time, the light began to stream out in thin threads that reached down to play across my flat belly and then upwards to my heart. Warm filled my body. I hummed as the coldness in my chest finally eased. After another minute, Alan whisked the pendant away, leaving Aileen the job of wiping the paste off my chest. I rather wanted Alan to attend me, but I didn’t push it. It had been a tough day for us all.
“You might feel better for now,” Alan said, “but you’ll need to rest tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about what happened, and what we can do about it. Come by in the morning.”
“What if I start feeling worse?” I asked, slowly rolling my shoulders and then rising to my feet. “Wouldn’t it be better if I stayed with y—“
“Tomorrow. Morning. Hugh.”
Chapter 6
