Summer stilled. “That … doesn’t make sense,” she said softly. “I’m not Fae. My powers aren’t Fae.” She started to go on, and stopped. “I haven’t tried to use my magic, though. Just empathy. Just what’s genetically encoded.” She hesitated. What if it didn’t work?The Mesmer nodded in response to her disbelief. “I know that, Summer, but that doesn’t explain why none of the Fae I know can use their powers,” he told her, gulping in worry. He got stressed when he couldn’t feed, and very quickly at that; it was what had led to his drug habit all those years ago. He shook his head, banishing the memories as he told her, “I guess that’s a point.. You’re free to try, Summer, but be careful—you’re not in perfect ‘ealth right now.”
“Hey, hey, no.” Summer rubbed her thumb against his skin again. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I’m going to need to know some things, though, so I need you to stay calm.” It was like a switch was flipped — there’s a problem, and someone can use her help. Her emotions, her needs, get shunted away, for later. What matters is the solution. “Do you know if anything like this has happened before?”