Copyrighted Kristen Banet
All Rights Reserved SPOILER WARNING: As always, these POVs have the potential to spoil certain characters, their motivations, and whatnot. Enjoy! This is the gift for A Life of Shadows hitting 200 reviews!
Reupload from original Facebook Post
Charlie groaned, pushing away the paperwork, letting it fly off his desk.
All I want is to own a small, nice, quiet gym in the Bronx, my home. That’s all. Is that too much to ask, God?
Rage coursed through him. He had barely opened the damn place it was already in the red and bleeding funds, eating his savings alive. Decades of great service for the Magi, his people, and he was left with a gym bleeding him of all of it.
I can’t deal with this tonight.
He stood up from his desk and stomped out of the office, heading up to the apartment he had on the top floor. He’d bought this place and barely did any renovations, and it was still going to leaving him penniless.
I should have never retired from healing.
He had to though. He knew he did. As he grabbed a bottle, he knew exactly why he needed to leave healing.
Charlie fell onto his busted couch and took a swig of the cheap liquor. Like he did every night. And every morning.
And most moments between.
He was a healer and a doctor, yet he was killing himself with the bottle, even though he knew the sort of slow death that normally led to. He focused his magic and tried to repair damage as it happened, but gave up after a few minutes.
She had a slow death, so I deserve one too.
At that thought, tears flooded his eyes and he took another swallowed.
“My beautiful wife,” he sobbed, leaning over. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”
Cancer was a terrible thing and he still couldn’t find a way to move past it. He had vast magical abilities as a Magi, being a healer first and foremost. He even went to medical school, so he knew everything. A healer of magic and a doctor of science.
And he still couldn’t stop the cancer that stole his wife from him. Her dying words were to be happy and he was trying. He was trying so hard. He bought the gym because it was a dream of his, and it was failing.
He was failing.
“I just want you back,” he mumbled, still crying as he drank another few swallows. “Come back.”
He didn’t know how long he sat there until the one upgrade he did put it grabbed his attention. The security system.
He frowned at the little red light on the console. The screen blinked on and showed him someone staggering into the locker room.
“Oh hell no,” he growled. “No. I won’t be robbed of what little I’ve got left by some fucking kid.”
He assumed it was a kid, anyways, based on the mannerisms. Adult thieves were more concentrated and probably not drunk like this person obviously was.
He closed the bottle, intending on using it as a weapon if he had to and left the apartment. He didn’t go too fast, trying to keep his heavy form from making too much noise. Once on the bottom floor, he kept an eye out for any movement, but saw no one as he moved towards the locker room.
He pushed out with his Source, trying to sense if the person was a Magi or not and found something.
Something dark and cold.
And so very very weak.
It made him pause. He heard a shower turn on and whimpering, with the occasional grunt or groan. He stepped inside and drew closer, his heart pounding, the bottle raised.
And saw a girl, huddling in a ball in the corner of one of the shower stalls. He reached out with his magic again as he stared at her and she stared at him.
Infection, abdomen, multiple sources. Infection, chest and visible wound on breastbone. Infection, left leg, from a simple scratch. High fever. Low fat reserves.
It hit him like a ton of bricks.
Who ever this girl was…
“You’re dying,” he whispered, dropping the bottle. “Hey, can you hear me?”
Her dark, bottomless eyes blinked once and he saw her head bob. Exhaustion.
“My name is Charlie. Doctor Charles. I’m a Magi too and I can heal. Can I help you? What’s your name?” He knelt down into the hot water, letting it hit him instead of her. At her temperature, getting soaking wet wasn’t going to help.
Her lips opened and he nearly missed the whispered answer.
“Shadow…”
“Sweetheart, I need your name.” He wasn’t sure what she was talking about. Finally, he decided to help her even without her permission. I lost my wife. I’m not losing this kid too. No. I’m a damn healer. I can fix this. I’ll learn her name later.
He reached around her carefully and tried to lift. She went tense and freaked out, trying to struggle but he knew she didn’t have the energy. When she tried to scream, it was hoarse and nothing much came out.
“I’m a healer, please let me help you. This is my gym. I’m not going to do anything to you.”
He began immediately, pushing his magic into her as he got her out of the shower. He needed to slow and pause the infection. He needed to close the wounds. He felt there were more injuries. She’d been shot, he realized, his magic pointing out the holes where in the infections had begun.
“I have you,” he whispered. I can save this one.
He raced her upstairs as her energy continued to fail. He laid her out on his bed and began the slow work.
I have to save this one. “Tell me your name,” he said softly, hoping she could hear him.
“They called me… Shadow…” she mumbled in that hoarse voice.
Then she went unconscious.
He wasn’t sure if he believed the words and he didn’t care. There was no way this girl was the assassin they had talked about on the news.
Even if she was, he just didn’t care.
I couldn’t save my wife but I’m going to save this one.