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I give myself a jolt and wake up.
Chapter Forty-Nine
I feel amazing—and not just because of more sleep. My pain and injuries are gone without a trace. I open my eyes and see why. Isis is moving calmly around the Council meeting room, healing everyone with her powers.
Rising to my feet, I look for Hekima—and instantly avert my gaze, wishing I could rub sanitizer on my eyeballs.
So much for my plan to question him.
Hekima is no more. At least I assume those are his remains in a pile approximately where he last stood. Someone has done something unspeakable to the grandfatherly illusionist.
His skin—all of it—is missing.
Kit grins at me. “He won’t be bothering anyone ever again.”
I swallow down a surge of nausea. “What happened? You were supposed to knock him out.”
Kit shimmers briefly, and I catch the outline of a drekavac. “A promise is a promise.”
Oh, right. She’d said she would kill Tatum’s killer as a drekavac. This raw meat is the result. I don’t know what it says about Kit that she was able to do this—or me, that I’m more upset about losing out on a chance to learn about Soma than the unspeakable torment Hekima must’ve experienced in his final moments. Then again, he did murder all those Councilors and was going to kill me and my friends, not to mention some members of the Council who had nothing to do with his daughter’s unfortunate fate.
“Speaking of promises,” I say, pushing aside all thoughts of Hekima and Soma for the moment. “I need to talk to Isis.”
It’s time the Council gave me my reward and healed my mom.
Kit follows me, and we wind our way through the confusion of Councilors, catching up with Isis as she heals her last patient.
“Can we go to Gomorrah now, as agreed?” I ask.
She wrinkles her nose. “One condition: You need to take a serious shower. Or maybe ten.”
Kit sniffs the air. “Oh, yeah. I’m on board with ten. And I should have some clothes in your size.”
“Deal,” I say, doing my best not to inhale my own stench. As much as I want to get Mom out of the coma right away, I doubt she’d want to wake up to the perfume of the sewers.
The three of us go to Kit’s quarters, where she grabs a box of garbage bags, an entire rack of clothes, and two big bottles of soap and shampoo. We take it all back to my quarters.
“I’ll be back in an hour.” Isis looks me over. “Or do you think you need two?”
“Two should do it.”
They leave, and I bustle into the bathroom with the soap, shampoo, and garbage bags.
The first thing I do is take out Leal’s comms from my pocket. I hope it’s a waterproof model—or if not, that Felix can get the info from it anyway. Cleaning the thing, I put it into a bag.
My stinky clothes go into another bag. That bag goes into another bag and so on until I run out of bags. Then I turn on scorching water and begin lathering and rinsing. Even after I run out of products, I stay under the spray, hoping to wash off any remaining cooties. Eventually, I get pruney enough to improve the stools of an army of cannibals. Reluctantly turning off the shower, I dry off, use my last remaining hand sanitizer on my body, and dress in Kit’s clothes.
Pocketing the bag with the comms gizmo, I inhale the air.
No stench.
But hmm… Now that I’m paying attention, I do detect a faint pine scent.
Wait a minute—
Someone clears his throat.
“Valerian?” I look around the empty room with wild eyes. “I just smelled you.”
“You did?” He materializes two feet away, as gorgeous as the last time I saw him. “I’m losing my touch.”
Pom, I mentally shout. Pom, wake up!
What is it? Pom’s voice is groggy. Can I not get uninterrupted sleep anymore?
Quickly, what does this guy look like?
Pom sounds thoroughly bored. Tall and muscular. Wide in the shoulders. Dark hair, blue eyes. Chin dimple, well-defined cheekbones.
Don’t describe him—show him to me, I mentally growl.
Why? You’re seeing what I’m seeing.
I feel the tension leave my forehead. I am? There’s no illusion? He really looks like a pucking sex god?
A beat of silence, then: I don’t know what a pucking sex god looks like.
A silly grin threatens to stretch my lips. Right. You can go back to sleep now. Thank you.
How about you only wake me up in emergencies going forward? Pom grumbles.
Whatever, I reply as Valerian arches a black eyebrow in amusement.
Puck, I’ve again been staring at him in silence, like an idiot.
Pulling myself together, I scowl up at him. “How long have you been hiding there?”
His sexy lips quirk. “Are you asking if I saw you like this?” He casts an illusion, conjuring up a more attractive version of me—who looks exceptionally naked thanks to the sanitizer glistening like oil on her perfect skin.
