Moving quickly, I tugged the sweater up. “How are you feeling?”

Her lashes lifted. “Like someone…bit me.”

“The tags aren’t deep,” I said, standing. “But you need water—fluids. Sit still.” I wasn’t sure if fluids would really help her, but I went into the room, drawing in several deep breaths as I opened up the small fridge under the TV. There was a bottle of Gatorade. Grabbing it, I went back to the bathroom, placing the bottle next to the sink.

Kneeling down, I grabbed for her arm. She flinched, recoiling, and I felt something acidic burning deep in my chest, replacing the empty craving. “Hey,” I murmured, dipping my head close to hers. “You’re okay. You’re safe, Josie. You’re all right.”

Holding my gaze, she exhaled softly. “Okay…”

I gently pushed the sleeve of her sweater up. “I’m guessing with your powers bound, it made you susceptible to their glamour—old magic that disguises them.” I reached up, grabbing a towel. I ran it under the tap. “Or maybe you’re wired like the pures. They can’t see through the glamour, either.”

She didn’t say anything as I handed over the bottle. “Drink this. It should help.”

Josie took the bottle. My attention was drawn to her fingers. The nails were dirty, broken. “I’ll be okay,” she said, taking a drink as I looked up at her from where I was crouched. Her hand shook the bottle but she didn’t drop it as she raised it to her lips again. “You know, I…I’ve never been seriously ill or injured before, even when I should’ve been.” Her gaze tracked over the room while I mopped up the blood on her arm. “Once…when I was younger, I climbed up this tree, all the way to the top.”

As I cleaned her arm, an image of a younger, smaller Josie took form. Probably all legs and arms with a headful of multicolored hair and probably loads of trouble.

“I fell out and I remembered being…in a lot of pain,” she continued as I tossed the towel and reached for a new one. “I thought I broke my leg. I was sure I broke my leg, but…by the time my grandparents got me to the hospital, I was just bruised. The doctors said I was lucky.”

It wasn’t luck. It was what she was. Dampening the other cloth, I stood, my eyes meeting hers. I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn’t have any words.

“I’ve bled all over you,” she whispered.

I looked down. She was right. Streaks of crimson slashed across my bare chest. A lead ball settled in my gut. “It’s okay.”

Her eyes closed. Dark shadows had bloomed under them. The attack had taken its toll. I leaned in, lowering my voice so only she could hear me, and the question came out rough, strained. “Are you hurt anywhere else…that I can’t see?”

The lashes flickered up. Confusion skittered across her expression, and then understanding crept in. Muscles in my back and neck tensed. All daimons cared about was aether—was getting their next fix—and they could be dumb in that relentless pursuit. Halfs who’d been turned into daimons were far more dangerous, but all of them could be cruel and sick.

“No,” she said quietly.

Another dose of relief hit me, and I nodded. Carefully peeling the torn material aside, the lead ball in my gut expanded, feeling like I’d taken a punch in the chest.

Josie had been tagged—tagged in the same place as her— as Alex. The coincidence was more than unnerving. It blasted through me as I wiped around the bite mark. No matter who or what you were, a daimon tag scarred. Just like she… just like Alex had carried scars all over her.

My hand shook. Rawness flowed through me. I didn’t like what I was feeling, so I latched onto the anger boiling inside me like a lit furnace. “Are you too stupid to fucking live?” She drew in a sharp breath, and I felt like a fucking ass for saying it, but it needed to be said. “What were you thinking? Going outside while I was in the shower? Am I going to need to chain you to the chair from here on out?” I tossed the bloodied towel in the bathtub. Giving her palms a cursory glance, I opened the cabinet under the sink and hit jackpot—a first aid kit. It was unlikely that she’d die from some kind of infection, but with my luck, I wasn’t willing to risk it. I yanked out a packet of disinfecting wipes.

“You’re right,” she said, surprising the hell out of me. I even stopped what I was doing, standing there holding a wadded disinfecting wipe. She glanced over at the door before her tired, bruised gaze drifted back to me, and if I thought I’d been punched in the chest before, I’d been wrong. I felt it now. “I wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t stay in the room. It was too quiet. I went…outside without thinking it through. It was a ‘too stupid to live’…kind of move.”

That shocked the shit right out of me. Kneeling down in front of Josie, I looked up at her. “This might sting a little.”

She nodded.

I pressed the alcohol wipe against her palm. She jerked but didn’t make a sound. I gently cleaning up the scratched skin. When I was finished, I rose so that we were at eye level. “I shouldn’t have said it like that earlier.” My voice was gruff, strange to my own ears. “You’re still operating like nothing has changed. That’s normal. It’s just…it’s a lesson you didn’t need to learn.” Straightening, I ignored the curious look she sent me. “I’ll get you another sweater.”