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“Their veins blacken beneath their skin, the infection spreading over them until their heart stops.”
“And your veins?”
Tori sighs. “I don’t know why, but both times I’ve touched someone, this is how I end up.”
“How long did it last the first time?”
Tori doesn’t answer.
“About twenty-four hours,” Kendall chimes in. “I noticed it was gone after that.”
Broca starts to respond, but Tori interrupts. “That’s not true.”
Broca’s eyes flash. “What is true?”
“I… drank something. Poison.”
“Tor, what the fuck,” Kendall says.
“You what?” I echo.
Tori averts her gaze from us and looks only at Broca. “I drank a lethal dose of Ricin. It fixed my skin immediately.”
Kendall mutters something about stupidity, but I can only stare at my mate, who has apparently decided to play with her own life.
Broca looks unconcerned by all this. She reaches into the folds of her clothing and produces a vial of dark liquid. “Here.”
“What is that?” Kendall asks anxiously.
Tori takes it with her gloved hand and sniffs lightly. Her gaze never leaves Broca’s. “Poison hemlock.”
Kendall’s eyes widen. “What are you?—”
But I already know what she’s about to do. “No,” I roar.
Tori uncaps it and swallows the contents before I can reach her.
Kendall yells. Broca merely watches with a look of calm anticipation. I drop to my knees beside Tori’s bed, heart thudding.
But Tori only sits quietly. She looks over at me, some emotion swimming in her eyes. I can’t read it, and I’m too afraid to ask her what she’s thinking—or feeling. The mate bond doesn’t offer any clues, either. If she’s in more pain, I can’t sense it.
Finally, she exhales, and her eyes clear, the glassy look she’s worn since the bear attack gone at last.
“Tor?” Kendall whispers, full of hope.
“It’s helping,” Tori assures her.
I’m very aware I’m still on my knees on the floor. Like a desperate man begging. But I can’t remove myself. Not until I know she’s all right.
Color returns to her cheeks, and then, before my eyes, the darkness in her veins fades until it’s completely gone.
Tori looks up at Broca again. “Thanks.”
Broca waves off the gratitude as I knew she would. “You are dark fae,” the glaistig says, her green eyes bright with curiosity.
Tori nods. “My father.”
“And your mother?”
