“You killed someone to?—”
“She was already dead.” Valen intones.
Do I believe him? Does it matter?
“This is taking longer than usual.” David stares at a larger wound in Valen’s side.
I stare at the injury, too. “Wait, what do you mean ‘usual’?” How often has Gregor done this to him? My stomach clenches at the enormity of it, at how much suffering just one round of this would cause anyone, vampire or not.
“He took my liver.” Valen shrugs weakly. “Ate it like he was a human sitting down to a meal. He’s never done that before. I think it … Slowed me down.”
My clinical curiosity dies. Anger boils up in its place. “Why? Why would he do any of this? Carlotta is the one who killed me, not you! What’s the point of torturing you?”
“You know why.” Valen straightens his back, his neck finally at a normal angle as the skin heals over. “Because he can, because he enjoys it, and because I can take it.”
He reaches out, and David hands him the IV bag again. Valen drains it.
David stands, his eyes still narrowed with concern. “Should I get Coal?”
“No. Sun’s up soon. We’ll be all right for a while, at least. Gregor has a body to play with, plus he’s distracted now that Harald is breathing down his neck about Carlotta.”
David’s eyes round. “Harald’s here?”
“No. Still in France, but he’s pissed and sending emissaries.”
“Who’s Harald?” I ask.
“House Tantun’s leader.” David strides to the door. “I’ll get you more blood.”
“No. I’m good for now.” Valen shakes his head.
“You sure?” David asks.
“Yeah. Just need some rest.”
“You know where to find me.” David leaves, closing the door behind him.
The moment he’s gone, Valen’s head droops again, his hands on the bed beside him, his muscled back strained and healing. “It’s all right, Georgia.” His voice is almost reedy, shot through with exhaustion. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll know if anyone comes. You’re safe.”
I stare at him. “You could’ve died.”
“I didn’t.”
“He could still kill you, couldn’t he?” There’s a knot in my stomach. “Anytime. Just if he feels like it.”
“Yes,” he agrees quietly.
“We have to stop him.”
“We can’t.”
“I can.” I scoot off the bed and move to stand in front of him. “I did it to Theo. I can do it to him.”
He rises quickly, his hand over my mouth, his eyes burning into mine. “Don’t say that out loud. Never, Georgia.”
I pull his hand away. “I can make it again. The compound,” I whisper. “I just need the right supplies.”
“No.” He glances at my lips.
