Page 108 of Snag
I hum, still intrigued. “And what do you feel like doing?”
“Time to stop fucking around,” Reck growls.
“Right now?” Presh asks, ignoring her brother. “With those … cuts?”
“Yes.” I glance down at the inert dark-red rope of fate in my hand. “We can walk away, and Bellamy will likely die —”
“No!” Presh presses her hand over the mess of threads clustered around Bellamy’s heart. “No!”
The young awry’s energy wells. The cauterized threadstry to knot around her fingers. Bellamy stifles another scream.
“I’m sorry,” Presh sobs, though her tone is determined, focused. “I’m so sorry.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Reck asks, clearly unable to see what Presh and I can see.
Presh draws more energy, more essence, from herself. Instinctively, I think.
“Gentle,” I say. “Careful. Don’t pull too much.”
The snipped ends of the blackened threads burrow into the back of Presh’s hand. She flinches but doesn’t pull away.
“Think about smoothing over that wound you see,” I say. “Maybe like you’re applying an ointment. Or maybe it’s more like sewing the edges together. Or …” I don’t know anything about healing, really. And certainly not on the level that Presh seems driven to do. These aren’t wounds in Bellamy’s flesh, but …
“It needs to be debrided,” I say— but I’m not the one speaking now. The universe has decided to chime in, through me. “The damaged life force needs to be removed to allow —”
“I see,” Presh whispers. And with another push of her power, the tangle of threads dissolves into nothing under her palm.
The thick rope of life force in my hand jerks as if suddenly infused with more energy. I let it go. It slowly retracts, sluggishly twisting around Bellamy, but not cinching around her neck.
Bellamy gasps, stumbling and clutching her chest.
I also let her go.
She collapses against her sedan, shuddering andsobbing. The wounds on her arms have healed over. Even the older scars are barely visible.
I turn to Presh, cradling her face in my hands and gazing down at her. She blinks up at me reverently. Unafraid.
“Soul healer,” I murmur, understanding just a little more about the intricate destiny that surrounds Precious. “How blessed the world is to have you.”
Her eyes fill with tears, but it’s joy that radiates through her. “Soul healer,” she whispers.
“So utterly precious.” I smile, then press a kiss to her forehead.
Essence flows from me to her — a blessing, a benediction. A promise of protection and love.
“What the fuck?” DeVille groans from somewhere behind Reck. “Why am I on the fucking ground?”
“That’s where you fell, Andy!” Hands on her hips, Presh whirls around to chastise him. “And you’re way too heavy to pick up!”
I meet Reck’s gaze. His expression is open and awed. He looks moments away from falling to his knees before me.
I don’t like that look at all.
Not from my once-soul-bound mate. Not from the Authority agent he chose to be. Because visions of a cage to tuck me safely within always follow that sort of look. Tuck me away to worship. To possess.
I narrow my eyes at him.
He flinches, then curls his lip into a snarl.
