“What?” she asked again, blinking at him. Why did he now look terrified?
“Little Witch, you’re... get on out, Violet. Come on.”
Violet blinked as she looked around, looked out front, and saw smoke coming from the engine. The truck was off, so why was the engine...
Why was it dark outside?
“How long have I been sitting here?” she asked, confused.
And why was she soaking wet?
“Come on, Violet. You look like you’re burnin’ up with a fever. I don’t wanna touch you, just in case.”
Burning up? With a fever? No. She felt fine. She felt—
Violet tried to climb out of the truck and almost immediately stumbled and hit the ground, hard. Everything in her ached as she groaned, realizing her legs had given out on her. Henrik immediately came to her side, reaching down to pick her up, only to yank his hand away almost immediately. She was confused to see him shaking his hand, cursing. What had happened? He was wearing gloves, and she was wearing a long sleeve shirt.
“Henrik?”
He pulled his glove off, still cursing, to reveal his hand red and already bubbling as though burned. And not just a little burned, but needing a healer burned. How did that happen? Even with her clothing soaked from apparent sweat, he was wearing gloves!
“Fuck,” Henrik cursed again, and spun away from her. “Might need one of y’all to go get the healer.”
Violet forced herself upright, unable to stand, and turned to see Mardoc and Colburn standing a few paces away. The two shared a glance, and then Mardoc took off while Colburn approached.
“Shit,” Cole agreed as he approached her. She wanted to warn him to stay back and keep his distance, but she didn’t have to. At more than a few paces away, he paused in his steps and shook his head. “She’s hotter than my wood-burning stove.”
“Oh spirits, how bad is it?” Violet asked, her eyes back on Henrik’s hand. He was still shaking it, his back turned slightly, so she couldn’t see if he was healing or if the burn was remaining.
This was what she had feared, all along. That eventually, without meaning to, she would do real harm to him. Harm that could permanently scar him.
This time, it was his hand. Next time, his arm. Then his shoulder, his chest, and then—
She was a danger to him. A danger to all of them, really, but Henrik mattered most. Henrik mattered more than anyone, including herself.
“Show me, please,” she begged, trying to get Henrik to turn back and look at her.
“What? Oh, no, I’m fine, Little Witch.” He was lying, his back still slightly turned, but he looked towards her over his shoulder. She could tell he was concerned, but there were also lines on his face, stress lines. Lines that made her think the pain was getting worse. “Can you stand?”
“I’m fine,” she insisted, even though she wasn’t sure she could. “Mardoc will get Scarlett. She’ll know how to take care of your hand.”
“Fuck, Violet, don’t worry about my damn hand. It’ll heal eventually. What the fuck has you so hot, though? You been sittin’ here a while, smokin’ up my truck, steamin’ yourself. What’s goin’ on? What has you like this?”
“Nothing,” she lied. “Just, a small difficulty. It’s nothing—”
“My hand is on fuckin’ fire right now, Violet. You’re hotter than a damn boilin’ pot. I mean, there’s fuckin’ blisters, and it’s not even tryin’ to heal. Hurts worse every fuckin’ second. So don’t lie to me and tell me there’s nothin’ wrong. I’ve been givin’ you space, but space ain’t makin’ it better. It’s gettin’ worse.”
Now was not the time for him to be calling out her bullshit. In fact, now was the worst time for him to want answers… because she was almost vulnerable enough to start spilling too many truths, particularly with Colburn Reeve there.
“What’s been going on the past few days has nothing to do with what’s wrong right now,” Violet insisted, and shifted herself to one side. She had to get up, had to stand. “I… I can’t leave town, okay?”
“You can’t leave? Why were you tryin’ to leave, Violet? And in my truck?”
“I thought the town line was fixed,” Cole pointed out, interrupting their private conversation.
Violet shot him a glare, then pushed herself up onto her knees, then off the ground. She still felt a little woozy, verging on weak, but she had to stand, and had to talk to Henrik. “Sam called, hysterical. I think I know where Roddy has been, because she started talking about this guy she is seeing becoming a wolf. Given how close she is—”
“Fuck, I’m going to go track him down, and her for that matter. Does she know about us? Know you’re a witch?”