“We can heal ourselves,” one of the shifters protested.
“Your hand is turning silver,” I pointed out. “Whatever is in that gas, it doesn’t care about your super-healing.” She opened her mouth to speak, but I was faster. “You seem to think you have a choice. Now sit down, shut up, and wait for our healers to arrive.”
“You were channeling Colonel Windstriker there,” Jace said, coming up beside me.
I didn’t respond to the quip. “When will the healers arrive?” I asked him.
“They’ll be here in two minutes,” Jace told me. “But we have a different problem.”
“I see it.”
We’d closed the door of the club to trap the poisonous gas inside, but it wasn’t enough. Black smoke was oozing through every gap and crack in the building. And if we didn’t find a way to stop it, these shifters wouldn’t be the only lives the gas claimed. It would spread across the entire city.
16
Angel's Kiss
I didn’t have any clue how to contain the poisonous gas, but maybe I could make it change form. I’d read about switching-state spells in one of the books on witchcraft Nero had assigned me. Of course, books were one thing and real life was another. Just because I’d read about the spell, that didn’t mean I could do it. But I had to try.
“Give me your Fire Salt and Sea Breeze,” I said to Jace.
He pulled two vials out of his potions kit, one filled with tiny red crystals and one with fine blue sand. I poured them together onto my palm, willing their magic to mix. The combined mixture began to pop, tickling my skin. I tossed a handful at the nearest poison puff. Magic crackled, and the gas thickened into a thick, snot-like goo that dropped out of the air, smacking the pavement.
I poured and mixed and tossed, taking that cloud out, piece by piece. By the time the Legion containment crew arrived, neither Jace nor I had a single grain of Fire Salt or Sea Breeze left.
“You didn’t leave anything for us,” Nerissa said as the last clot of poisonous goo hit the ground.
“Sure, we did. Those people need your help.” I pointed at the shifters. “They’ve been poisoned.”
Nerissa waved the healers over to take care of the shifters. “That was quick thinking,” she said, glancing down at the forest of goo that covered the sidewalk in front of the building. “How ever did you think of changing the poison from gas to solid to stop it from spreading?”
“I read it in a book.”
I looked around. The healers were already taking care of the poisoned shifters. I glanced over as the silver sheen faded from their skin. That had been close. Whatever this poison was, it was designed to aggressively kill shifters. It was by luck alone that they’d all survived the attack.
First vampires, then us, and now shifters. The witches were targeting us one by one, and we still had no clue why. I knew it was the witches, just as I knew that when Nerissa analyzed the poison, she’d find it was yet another super-poison made only within the gilded gates of the New York University of Witchcraft.
I was tired—really tired. Igniting the magic in those potions had drained me of everything I had. I needed a nap, not another crime scene.
And I definitely don’t need this, I thought as Nero came around the corner. He headed straight for me. I was so not in the mood to deal with him right now.
He stopped in front of me. “We need to talk.” Then he turned and walked back the way he’d come.
I didn’t have the energy to argue with him right now, so I followed him. Neither of us said a word the whole walk back to the Legion. The silence held until we stepped into his office and he closed the door behind us.
“Are you all right?” he asked me.
I didn’t want to consider the consequences of him actually caring about me, so I brushed him off. “I’m fine.”
“Stop,” he said when I moved toward the door.
I pivoted around. “I just saw a lot of people nearly die. Do you have to punish me now?”
“Punish you? For what?”
“For last night. For sneaking around the witch university without your permission. You said you were going to punish me.”
“Yes, I did say that.”
“I’m really tired. Can’t I just take the pushups later?” I pleaded.
“You just saved the lives of over fifty people. Let’s call it even.”
I blinked in surprise. “So you’re not going to punish me?”
“I am not going to punish you,” he confirmed.
“Oh. Good. So, then why am I here?”
“Because I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“You are angry with me,” he said.
“I’m not.” I resisted the urge to cross my fingers behind my back.
Nero wasn’t fooled. “Don’t lie to me.”
I sighed. “What do you want me to say?”
“Start with the truth.”
I let out a strained laugh. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” I began to turn away.
“We’re not done,”
“What is this all about?” I demanded. “Is it professional or personal?”
“Personal.”
“Then I’m leaving. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“You forget your place.” A warning note hummed at the surface of his words.
“No, you forget yours,” I snapped. “This isn’t how this works. You can’t just order me to listen to you about whatever personal thing you want to get off your chest. I’m leaving.” I turned to leave, but his hand closed around my wrist. “Let go.”