''I get it,'' he said, ''the sun so loved the moon...''
His voice trailed off. We both knew the story. We knew it all too well. He was looking at me thoughtfully. I, however, turned away.
''What if,'' I began, ''the sun didn't want to die for the m...
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Her wounds were worse than I'd thought. The girl who laid in front of me, still sweating profusely and gripping the bed, had burn marks up and down her legs and arms as if her skin had been singed off by an electrified rod.
"Can fair folk not heal?" I asked, curious as to how the wounds were still there.
She shook her head, wincing as she did so. "Some can. I'm half."
I reached out my hand as an offer of help. If I could sense what Tilly had done to the half-fey girl, I'd have a better shot of healing her. She was hesitant, of course.
"My father always told me not to trust a Daemon with my hand."
I laughed a little, thinking of my own father. She was wary of me and I wasn't going to touch her without her permission, obviously.
"Not bad advice," I admitted. "What's your name?"
Her eyes narrowed, and before she could refuse I interjected.
"Mine's Lou. I'm a Daemon, a senior in high school, and I ride a motorcycle. My friends would tell you that I wear too much black, but they're entitled to their wrong opinion."
A small, pained smile made its way on the girl's delicate face. "You can call me Mara."
I offered out my hand once again. This time, she took it. My eyes shut at the odd sensation that flowed through me.
It was a feeling similar to Tilly's house. Mara's energy, mind, and memories were alive in my head, their very own heartbeat thrummed in my ears. The smell of earth and lilac wafted through my nose and tickled my tongue.
I waded through the unnecessary images of places and people I'd never seen and never would to get to the source of her pain. Tilly's spell was cast over Enigma as protection against foreign creatures it seemed. Too bad she practically roasted a foreign supernatural diplomat.
The darkness in me woke up at the taste of her pain. My power ebbed at my fingertips, ready to unleash waves into her system. It ached to be released, to be dispensed. The darkness, however, craved something different.
I pushed all of those thoughts down as I covered her hand with both of mine. Healing her took only minutes. I pushed the power that waited at my fingertips through her like water through the pipes. She gasped as the wounds started to heal and I opened my eyes.
My hands dropped to my sides as Mara inspected her arms and legs in awe. I waited for the rush of dizziness to overcome me- for the balance of power to come and take me.
But it didn't.
"That," Mara said, sitting up, "is some cool trick, Lou the Daemon Who Wears Too Much Black."
I shrugged. "Thank you. I'll be here all night, ladies and gentlemen."
Mara's strange eyes sparkled with humor and I could see the color returning to her fair cheeks and the strength come back to her limbs.
