The look Kristan gave Noah was pure evil. “Flesh? ”

“It’s not good for anything and it’s got to go somewhere.” Rajan had a syringe in her hand, full of a clear fluid. “This is going to hurt. It’ll counteract the morphine. Screaming doesn’t bother you, does it, dear?” She glanced at Kristan before coming to Noah’s side.

“She doesn’t mind, trust me.” Noah held his arm out for the shot. As much as he didn’t want to hurt, it had to be done. Rajan injected it through the IV port and patted his shoulder.

“It’ll be over before you know it. I promise.”

The antidote worked fast. Time wasn’t the same when you were in agony. Noah clenched his jaw, determined not to let Kristan have the satisfaction of seeing his pain, even if he did deserve it for going off on her.

“It’ll be okay.” Kristan’s voice was as reassuring as he’d ever heard it. He turned his head enough to see her standing on the other side of the bed. “She’s really good.”

Noah couldn’t speak, he was struggling to keep his breathing steady. Rajan’s hands were on his and he could hear her saying something. The piercing needles of her magic sank into his hands, and he was sure he wasn’t managing to be quiet anymore.

Under all the pain, though, Rajan’s magic woke his, and he felt his fire rise to fuel whatever engine drove the healing needles deep into him. He clenched Rajan’s hands and his skin split open with a rush that

could only be described as pleasure. Kristan hadn’t been wrong. As the pain became unbearable, again and again, his fire and his need to survive drove through it and he healed. Every time his body shed another layer of damage, his consciousness turned inward, drawing her healing down into him, into the places that still bled inside.

Lindsay sat on the front step, the chill of the concrete seeping into his bones. He hardly noticed the discomfort. He was listening to the roar of cars on the nearby freeway and trying not to think about what was happening to Noah.

Screams brought Lindsay to his feet again and again, but each time, he didn’t go farther than putting his hand on the door. Rajan had sent him out for a reason, and every time he stood, Lindsay remembered she’d been right to do it.

It had been eerily quiet for a long time when the door popped open behind him.

“You can come in.” Kristan sounded decidedly unimpressed. “Also, that was disgusting and I’m not doing it again.”

Lindsay was through the door almost before she finished talking. Noah was alive and the healing had worked, or Kristan wouldn’t have been so calm, Lindsay told himself, rushing up the stairs and down the hall to the room they’d given to Noah. He pushed the door open without knocking and stepped inside.

“He’s sleeping.” Dr. Rajan was stuffing sheets into a biohazard bag. “He’ll wake up when he’s ready.”

Noah was sprawled on clean sheets, belly down. His skin was whole and glossy, darker, a red-bronze shade that gleamed as though the fire had only burnished him. His hair had grown in, as well, enough to catch the light—soft red and gold. Lindsay could see that his hands were perfect again, except for the missing finger that had resisted being healed.

Lindsay was almost limp with relief, but he couldn’t trust it yet. Not until he heard it from the healer.

“He’s going to be all right?”

“He’s fine now,” Rajan said. She sealed the bag and put it with two others. “No complications associated with his past injuries. His magic is exceptionally strong. At his age, he’s not going to adjust to it if he hasn’t already. You’ll need to find a way to limit him. I use the patient’s magic to help heal them, as well as my own, and that was a walk in the park for me.”

“It wasn’t...” Lindsay stopped. Too much detail wasn’t safe. “It’s difficult to explain, but it wasn’t his fault. I’ll keep an eye on him, though.” He crossed the room to offer his hand. “Thank you. Do I make payment arrangements with you, or does Patches handle that, as well?”

Rajan shook his hand and gave him a smile. “Usually, I’d say with me, but let’s leave it with her this time. Kristan said you wouldn’t have a need for his pain medications after this? I can always use them in my after-hours work.”

“Keep them.” Lindsay stepped back to look Noah over. He seemed healthier than Lindsay had ever seen him. “And thank you again. If there’s anything we can do for you...” He let the offer trail off. She’d understand.

“I’ll keep it in mind. We’ll finish cleaning up here, and I’ll be out of your way. Best of luck.” Rajan shouldered her bag and picked up the box with Noah’s antibiotics and painkillers. “Kristan said she’d be back up to get those bags. I’ll take them to be destroyed.”

“Please do.” Lindsay sat on the bed next to Noah and tentatively ran a hand down his back. No scars, no raw, open wounds, no blackened flesh. Just smooth, new skin. It was beautiful.

Slowly and gently, Lindsay petted every inch of Noah’s skin he could reach, reassuring himself it was whole and real. At first, Lindsay thought he saw flaws, or faded scars, but no. Noah’s body remembered its old sorrows and the healing process was marked by faint shifts in color like a contour map. Lindsay could follow the terrain of Noah’s failures and suffering, could see all the levels of healing.

In one place, Lindsay could make out where he had come into Noah’s life, if he looked carefully enough. There were little ripples of gold—faster healing—washing up against the absence of a ridge of scar. He’d seen it the first time he’d met Noah. It had twisted with the clench of Noah’s jaw as Cyrus had said, “This one is yours.”

It had started to fade already when Noah stood before him in the gym. I was there when it healed. In a small way, some of this healing had come from Noah being his. Lindsay had proof. The realization made his throat tight and he pressed his lips to that place.

Kristan and Rajan had been coming and going, cleaning away the detritus of Noah’s injuries and healing, but finally, Kristan came back alone. In the back of his head, caution murmured that he should have hidden his reaction from her. That would have meant looking away. Not touching Noah’s perfect skin.

Not finding some tiny scrap of proof that he hadn’t done everything wrong.

“Here you go,” she said, coming over and tapping Lindsay with a blue glass bottle. “This is for his skin. And this.” She tossed a tube on the bed that said Homeopathic in big blue letters. “Rajan said new skin needs frequent treatment.” She leered at Lindsay. “If you want to make any of this up to me, call me up and I’ll do it.”

Lindsay rolled his eyes. “You’re shameless. I’ll make it up to you some other way. I’m sure you’re keeping track.” There was something he needed to add to what he owed her. “I’ve seen you with a gun,” he began hesitantly. “Do you know how to use it?”

“Wouldn’t be much good if I couldn’t. Why?” Kristan crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him suspiciously.

“Will you teach me?” Watching Lourdes hurt Noah had brought home that Lindsay needed to find other ways to defend himself and his...his people. Lourdes was too powerful for him to stop with his magic, and there were others as strong as she was.

He had to have another plan, even if that meant picking up a gun. A gun wouldn’t stop Jonas, but if Lourdes still lived, it would stop her. It would stop Moore.

Kristan hesitated. “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do. I bet he knows how.” She tilted her head toward Noah. “We can’t have our asses hanging out. I know a guy downtown. I need to pick up some stuff for myself. I’ll see what he’s got. If I go tonight, you’ll be cool here?”

Lindsay looked at Noah, all healthy, new smooth skin and freshly healed exhaustion, and nodded.