Originally Human by Eileen Wilks Page B

realm do not see the sorcéri ." He gave the word an odd pronunciation I hadn't heard before.
    "No. No, they don't. You really aren't from this world, are you?"
    "That much I'm sure of."
    Cullen drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. "I have a feeling you know a helluva lot more than I do about magic. Why come to me?"
    "My knowledge isn't always accessible. I want to see if you can hide or disguise my use of the nodes. They—the Azá—track me that way. Molly hopes you can restore my memory."
    "You sound doubtful."
    "I am. I can tell you the spell I used to forget, but I don't know if you will be able to devise a counterspell. I cannot, but being self-trained, you are accustomed to creating your own spells."
    "That will help." Cullen's eyes glittered with excitement.
    Michael gave him an assessing look. "You'll get nothing from me without my cooperation. Even with it, there is some danger."
    Cullen gave a bark of laughter and leaned back in his chair. "Danger? For what you could teach me, I'd risk hurricanes, lightning bolts, and an IRS audit."
    I was feeling worse about this all the time. Cullen glanced at me. "Don't worry, love. If my conscience—an elastic creation, admittedly—snaps under the strain, you can still count on my sense of self-preservation. I know very well you'd make a bad enemy."
    "So would I," Michael said mildly. "But we won't be enemies, will we?"
    "I hope not." Cullen's grin was little short of feral. "Oh, I do hope not."
    TRUTH spells were not safe to use on Michael. This time, the backlash lifted Cullen off the ground and slammed him against the west wall. Boards cracked, broke. He landed half-out, half-in, sprawled in the debris of the wrecked wall.
    My ears were ringing, though I hadn't heard a thing except for the wall breaking. I jumped to my feet. "Cullen!"
    Michael's hand snatched at me. "Wait. The roof…"
    I looked up. Things were leaning alarmingly. "Hold it," I told him, and hurried to Cullen. He was pale, motionless, and slightly bloody—but blinking thoughtfully at the sky now overhead instead of rafters. "Your boyfriend packs a punch, love."
    I exhaled in relief. "At least you don't have amnesia."
    "No, I remember well enough what happened." He pushed up on one elbow, winced. "At least one rib. It's a good thing I'm Lupus."
    There were scraping noises behind me, and a grunt. "I think that will hold." Michael sounded dubious. "The blow was unintentional, Cullen. I am sorry."
    "You have amazing reflexes, then." He took the hand Michael held out, grunting as Michael pulled him to his feet, and rubbed his side. "Or maybe… not reflexes. Defenses. Put there by someone else."
    Michael was very still. "You're talented. Given the tools you have to work with, extremely talented."
    "You're a construct, aren't you? Made, not born."
    "Yes."
    That one word dropped into the well of silence it created even as it was spoken. So many words have power , I thought dimly, not just the magical ones . My voice, when at last I broke the silence, was small. "Michael?"
    "I am sorry." His voice was remote. He didn't look at me.
    "And you've remembered more than you're admitting." Excitement radiated from Cullen like heat from a stove as he moved closer to Michael. "I only caught a glimpse—but there's so much inside you! Knowledge—vast amounts of knowledge. Power—"
    "Knowledge is power," Michael said sadly.
    Cullen stopped in front of Michael. " What are you ?"
    "I cannot tell you." At last Michael turned to me. There was grief in his eyes, old grief and fresh, the raw mixed with scars from other earlier woundings. "Not will not, Molly. Cannot. The way I am made, some things are not possible for me."
    "You could have told me more than you have." I made it a statement, not a question. I was already sure.
    "When we met the state cop, much came back to me. Not everything—I am still in pieces, and they don't all fit together. But that I was made, not born… yes. I could have told you that."
    "You didn't