* * *
Jule was beginning to think death was better than his weakened state. He’d managed to add more wood to the fire and tear the stitches in his chest while doing so. Soup was out of the question; it might as well have been a million miles away in the kitchen. He rested against the cushions. He’d never been human, and he had no idea how long it took for a human body to heal. It seemed like too long already, especially since the woman was alone to protect herself.
His dream, the one about the Original Vamp, hadn’t returned. It seemed too real, and he’d dwelled long on what he could remember of the conversation.
Xander. Original Beings.
“Jule?” Darian’s voice jarred him out of his thoughts. “You here?”
“Yeah, Darian,” he called.
Darian emerged from the kitchen, trailed by a small, shapely woman with dark, curly hair tied in a ponytail. Jule’s gaze fell to the necklace she wore.
“Dusty’s mate?” he asked, looking her over again. Her smile was quick and warm, her brown eyes dancing. “I thought you’d be more like Attila the Hun.”
“I’m Bianca,” the woman said in a voice as soft as her eyes.
Jule wasn’t sure what to expect when she knelt beside him. Cool, healing energy coursed through him, lulling him into a near doze.
“Done!” she announced. “I can’t take away the weakness you feel, but your body is healed.”
“How the hell did Dusty end up with someone like you?” he asked and looked down at himself, impressed.
She laughed, a contagious sound, and he saw her effect even on Darian, who had relaxed and sat in a chair nearby. Her presence would have the same calming effect on Dusty, who was the most wound-up man Jule knew.
“Her brother’s the Black God,” Darian said out of nowhere.
“Always knew women were a curse,” Jule said.
“Darian,” Bianca objected. “Remember what Dusty said. No stressing Jule out.”
Darian rolled his eyes.
“I’m a grown man, woman, I can take it,” Jule said with a snort.
“You probably shouldn’t be fighting anyone until you’re better,” she said. “Though I’ve learned none of you will listen to that advice.”
“You keep giving it. It’s always nice to know someone cares,” Jule replied. “And I bet you never shot Dusty or ran him over with a car.”
“That little girl did this?” Darian asked, eyes narrowing.
“In her defense, she thought I was trying to kill her.”
“Were you?”
“Yeah, at one point,” Jule said. “She’s been told some real fucked-up stuff about the Guardians.”
“Well, if you tried to kill her, you probably didn’t help things,” Darian said wisely.
Jule ignored him and tested his body. He rose and stretched, stiff and weak but healed. He hadn’t seen a Healer since before the Schism and offered his hand to Bianca. She took it, and he pulled her up.
“I think you need to get back there,” Darian added, frowning. “Some weird shit’s going on with the Others. One of Dusty’s spies found out the Others have a weapon they want to use, we think to open the gateway between the immortal and mortal worlds.”
“One of the Watchers told me similar. I can’t get close enough to anything to learn more without getting myself killed. You have any insight into why my power is jacked up?” Jule asked.
“I broke something, I think. The Watchers are pissed at me. They’re not talking to me right now.”
“You’re in good company. They’re the ones who told me to kill the girl.”
“Really?” Darian’s interest was piqued. “I’ll ask Sofi about that.” He exchanged a look with Bianca.
“We can fix you, Jule,” she said, turning to him. “We experimented on Dusty.”
“The Watchers stripped the Guardians of power, but their base of power is in the immortal realm. I’m not, uh, restricted to either realm,” Darian said. “I seem to be coloring outside the lines in every way possible. I can do things Damian and the Black God can’t.”
“Like restore something the Watchers took?” Jule asked, surprised.
“With Bianca’s help. We can’t restore everything, but we can give you back most of your powers.”
“Do it.”
“You may not be strong enough yet,” Bianca said, considering.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea. I’ll be fine,” he said in amusement.
“If he survived as a human, he’ll survive this,” Darian seconded. “I’ll rip you open, and Bianca will heal you.”
It was her turn to roll her eyes but she held out a hand to Jule. Darian held out his as well, and Jule took both their hands, at once bombarded with Bianca’s cool energy and Darian’s hot energy. The sensations whipped through him, reminding him how human he really was. It wasn’t like the Magician’s magic, which somehow fused with his, as if they were one person sharing one source of power.
Maybe even one soul.
“Fuck!” he muttered, dropping to his knees. Cool and warm turned to frigid and blazing, and he felt their powers coalesce at his core, forcing something open that had been closed by the Watchers. Darian’s power burned while Bianca’s healed the invisible wounds created by the Grey God. The pain increased until Jule was near passing out. Suddenly, it stopped, and his own warm power flooded him. He released their hands, panting.
Jule sat back on his haunches, dizzy with the abrupt return of his power. It settled into him, and he flexed it.
“Don’t do that too much,” Darian warned. “We’re trying to lay low and not attract the attention of the Watchers.”
We could use the help of a couple of Original Beings. The thought came from nowhere, and Jule thought again of the vamp from his fever dream.
“Everyone on the planet is out to get this girl. I doubt I’ll have a choice soon,” he replied.
“I can use her, Jule.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I might be able to seal the breach I made, if it doesn’t get bigger and I can borrow Damian’s power. I touched her so she could show me where you were, and I felt what she can do,” Darian said. “You gotta keep her alive while Damian figures out what to do.”
“I will,” Jule said. “If I fought off a guardsman as a human, I can take on an Other with my powers back.”
“Or die trying.”
“That, too.”
“You men really are crazy,” Bianca said. “Not an ounce of common sense in any of you.”
“Just fighting for a higher cause,” Jule said with a smile. “You married an assassin. Of all of us, your mate’s the worst.”
“Retired assassin,” she corrected sweetly. “He’s not allowed to kill people anymore.”
Jule laughed. “Seriously?”
“Oh, yeah,” Darian said. “Some things have changed. She’s a slave driver. Dusty’s not allowed out of his room without her-- ”
“Darian!” she said with a laugh. She punched him in the arm, and he feigned a look of pain.
Jule’s throat tightened as he listened to the two of them spar verbally. Darian had been a shell of a man when Sofi found him several months ago. Now there was life and light in his eyes, even if he wasn’t quite the man Jule remembered. He carried on with Bianca like the sister she now was, and Jule couldn’t help feeling a sense of gratitude towards the small woman with the quick smile, warm gaze, and healing energy. Between her and Sofi, they’d brought Darian back from the dead.
“I’ll let you two fight this out,” Jule said with a smile. “I’ve gotta get to the station. Thank you both, and send my regards to D and Dusty.”
Jule closed his eyes, relishing in the ability to Transport himself once more. No more walking across Ireland for him! When he opened his eyes, he found a gruesome sight awaiting him.
“Been trying to call you, Jule,” the blond Guardian said from his seat on the couch. He ran a hand through his hair. “Sean’s dead. I found his body beh
ind his bar. I don’t know what did this to him, but it wasn’t a human or a vamp. Whatever it was, it tore him in half.”
Jule’s gaze dropped to the blanket-covered body laid carefully on the living room floor. His smile faded.