Chapter 9: Help

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Wren was waiting for her when she came in. He stood at his full height in the middle of her living room. His eyes tracked her as she walked in. A hawk stalking a mouse. There was a predator in the room with her. She forced her body to relax and took even, calm breaths. Massie had experience with predators. She grew up with them. She ran with them in the forest.

She wasn't afraid.

Her eyes followed the sleek line of muscles from his shoulders down his arms to the sharp talons on his fingers. His arms were crisscrossed with scars His wings were pulled close to his body but she knew the damage that was hiding.

She wasn't afraid. She was aware. She was aware that any misstep could end in her death. She was aware that when Wren mentioned killing witches it was a statement of fact. She was aware that she was entertaining Death in her house.

She was also very aware that he was the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. She had thought it the moment he ambushed her in the meadow.

The purples and blues from the sunset encompassed him on all sides. The fading light came in from every window and reflected off his wings.

She stopped a few feet in front of him and met his eyes. The blue was so dark it seemed black. Waves crashing against a ship at night. He studied her. His eyes flickered across her face and down her body. She tried not to be embarrassed by the mess that she was. The leaves in her hair or the dirt on her hands and face. After a moment their eyes met again and he spread his wings.

She didn't have time to be impressed by the sheer size of them. Her eyes immediately found the holes and bald patches where feathers should be. She kept her magic tightly wound up. She could see the redness lining the holes. If this was an animal in her forest, she would soothe it with her magic. Test the severity of the infection. But this was not an animal in her forest. She already knew how Wren reacted to her magic. So she waited.

"My wings are damaged. They do not heal like my body does."

"They were hurt with magic."

She didn't have to ask him. If his other wounds healed, these should too. Magical wounds were dangerous and hard to treat. It went against nature to use magic in such a way.

Dark magic corrupts and spreads like an infection. The witches that practice it are no longer whole, but twisted beings doing anything they could for power. They didn't love. They only hungered for more.

It is a foul act to take magic from another magical being or to use take what is not freely given. And judging from the state of his wings, nothing was freely given.

"I can help." She offered. She tried to keep any excitement out of her voice. All she wanted to do was help him, but she had to tread lightly. She didn't want to be pushy and end up dead.

The silence was heavy. She tried her best to look as unintimidating as possible.

Finally, he nodded his head.

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The first step was to clean and detoxify before the healing could begin. Wren refused a tonic that would help the detoxifying process so she gave him anti-bacterial soap and set him up in the downstairs bathroom.

Massie took a hot shower and used the purifying tonic, taking care to cleanse every inch of herself.

She dressed in a pair of bicycle shorts and an oversized shirt and went downstairs. While Wren was still in the bathroom, she went to her workroom and gathered what she needed.

Her arms were full when she walked into the living room. Wren was already there. She had given him some of her brother's clothes that he left the last time he visited, but Wren opted to only wear the gray sweatpants. He was shirtless and dripping all over the floor. Water ran off his hair and down his strong shoulders and chest. Scars were every, patterned all across any visible skin.

He held his wings out away from his body. Water rolled off the feathers onto the floor.

She set her things down carefully on the coffee table and went to grab some towels from the hall closet. When she came back, he was rooting around her pile of supplies. She put the towels down and picked up the spelled mat.

"This is healing spell work. It works well on magical injuries."

He said nothing.

She continued talking. "I used it last year when I had a spell backfire and I lit myself on fire."

He didn't speak a word but his face was judging her.

"Don't worry! I'm really good at healing spells." She put the mat down and picked up a jar of clear tonic.

"This will help purify any remaining magic." She opened the lid and held it up for him to sniff.

She screwed the lid back on and opened the brown salve. "This is a healing ointment."

He wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"We will get you dried off and on the spell mat. I will activate the spell and start treating your wings." She gave her best reassuring smile. The same one she gave baby animals.

"There's nothing to worry about."

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