Page 1135 of One More Kiss
The wand maker reached the corner and stepped off the curb into the crosswalk without heeding to traffic or the flashing signs. When you're already wanted for illegal magic, what's one more charge for jaywalking?
The window of opportunity Griffin provided with his kiss was closing fast. I needed to make the most of it.
"He didn't even look both ways before crossing the street." I pulled the standard issue stun Umarex Brodax air pistol from my holster, peered over Griffin's shoulder and lined up the shot.
Unlike its traditional counterpart's steel BB ammunition, the Authority's version of the pistol had been modified to fire .177 caliber stunner charms.
I fired two shots. The wand maker ducked down an alley and slipped out of sight before the first charm left the barrel.
"What in the name of Hecate?" I holstered my weapon and pulled the tracking charm from my pocket.
It went cold.
Orly made us when he came out of the theater and we hadn't realized it. He was better than I gave him credit for. It wasn't often I underestimated my opponent but it only had to happen once for the perp to go free.
"He fell off your radar?" Griffin took the charm from me, turning it over in his hand. "I didn't think that was possible."
"Neither did the Authority." I plucked the useless stone out of his palm and shoved it in my coat pocket just as Orly popped out of another alleyway and back into existence two blocks away. "Over there. Come on."
If Orly had perfected a spell that disabled a tracking charm, the Arcane Magical Authority was in serious trouble. With a single enchantment, Jacob Orly rocketed himself from the bottom of the top ten to number one on the AMA's most wanted list.
And I planned on knocking his ass off the roster entirely.
We chased after the wand maker but for each block we gained, we lost two. It looked like at least one of Orly's incantations worked correctly.
"Thousands of spells to choose from and he picks festina lente?" I asked between deep breaths. The harder we ran, the less ground we covered.
"Can you blame him? He's wanted by the Authority." Griffin breezed past me, arms and legs pumping with the technique of a seasoned track and field athlete.
"And this is why I could never be a criminal. I hate running." My lungs burned and leg muscles cramped. My body was at its limit. I was out of breath, out of steam, and struggling to catch up. "People do this for fun?"
"For the orgasm-like endorphin high." Griffin chided, throwing down a gauntlet he knew would rekindle my competitive streak. "Come on, Byrnes, pick up the pace, or I'll bust him for you."
"Like Hecate." Muscles I hadn't used or even known were involved in running ached but I pushed harder and matched Griffin's stride. "And for the record, there are ways to have an orgasm that don't involve running a marathon."
"Orgasm-like and I never said it was my preferred method. Just that I've heard people say that's why they run." Griffin looked straight ahead but I could see the corner of his mouth tip up from his smile. "Personally, I'm not trying to run a race. I like to take my time, a slow and steady pace."
"I know all about your methods and techniques." I teased, sounding breathy and hoarse and for all the wrong reasons. "I've experienced all your best moves firsthand, remember?"
"Every glorious detail." Griffin chuckled but his laughter had the bitter edge of regret. "It doesn't have to be something we talk about in past tense, Morgan. We don't have to be past tense."
Memories of late nights and later mornings spent tangled up with Griffin left me scorched, inside and out. At least running down a perp had one positive. It provided an excellent scapegoat for my flushed cheeks and elevated heart rate and body temperature. Griffin shoved me off the sidewalk and into the street right before we came under fire.
Orly had more than one trick up his sleeve. Knockback spells.
A blast of energy that had been intended for me smacked Griffin in the chest. He flew backward, hitting the sidewalk hard enough that he bounced. His head took the brunt of the impact when he connected with the sidewalk the second time.
"Griffin." I forgot about Orly and making the collar, changed course, and rushed over to his side.
Losing the wand maker meant I would get probation instead of the promotion I'd hoped for but I couldn't leave Griffin injured and alone. Not after he saved my ass and not after the Goddess gave him the sight to see his wrongs and the wisdom to ask forgiveness.
He laid motionless on the sidewalk, limbs limp at his side, and he didn't appear to be breathing.
"Griffin, don't you dare leave me again. Not like this." I dropped to my knees beside him and yanked the leather corded necklace from around my neck.
The small vial that dangled from the cording was standard issue and contained a concentrated health potion. When given the right dose, the potion could mend broken bones, heal superficial wounds, and stop internal bleeding, saving an agent's life
But if administered incorrectly, an Airmid brew could be lethal.
Blood pooled in a grim halo around his head. Fingers pressed against the soft hollow on the side of his neck by his windpipe, I checked for a pulse. It was thready, but there. His chest rose and fell on a short, shallow breath.
I removed the dropper cap from the small bottle, gagging when the potion's pungent odor wafted up to my nose. After prying open Griffin's mouth, I emptied the pipette onto his tongue.
Seconds ticked by and nothing happened.
The potion should have started working as soon as the brown, syrupy liquid coated his taste buds. Panic gripped my heart like a vice when it didn't. What if I have a bad batch? There wasn't time to weigh the risks of side effects which ranged from loss of taste to seizures or cardiac arrest.
I was losing him. Again.
So, I made a hip-fire decision and gave him a second dose.
