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Ella came in behind her, leaning over and pulling Alex’s hair up and out of the way. Then she turned on the water in the sink. An instant later a cold cloth pressed onto the back of Alex’s neck. Nothing had ever felt so good.
“What’s going on?” Ella asked.
Alex flushed the toilet, stepped past Ella, who shuffled into the hall to give her room, then washed her face and rinsed with mouthwash. When her gaze met Ella’s in the mirror, the Frenchwoman arched a brow, and Alex told her everything.
“Mates,” Ella murmured. “Hmm.”
“That’s all you can say? I’m stuck here forever, unless I want to throw up until my insides are on my outside. Talk about a curse and a prison.”
“Calm yourself, mon amie. Is it so bad to have a man like Julian as your mate?”
In truth, Alex wasn’t that upset. She wondered if being sick until she had no sick left to be had put her in a state of shock—or perhaps just the news had.
“A love like that is not something that comes along every day.”
“It isn’t love,” Alex said, although what love was she couldn’t quite say.
“Are you sure?” Ella asked. “Didn’t you find it odd that you felt ill every time he went too far away? Considering that we don’t get ill?”
“I didn’t,” Alex said. “Until today.”
“Not even when he left you the first time, after he made you?”
It appeared that Ella not only knew the truth about Alex, but the truth about every damn thing.
“He left you when we are like babies, and we should never be left.” From Ella’s expression she wished Julian were there right now so she could kick him. Alex wished he were there right now so she could see it.
“I was busy shape-shifting,” Alex said. “I felt like my skin was going to explode.”
“Then it did,” Ella murmured.
“My stomach was the least of my worries.”
“Come.” Ella beckoned. “You need to lie down.”
Since Alex did need to, she followed the Frenchwoman into the bedroom where she tossed her clothes and crawled beneath the quilt.
“You should sleep now.” Ella sat on the side of the bed and brushed Alex’s hair away from her face with a cool, gentle hand, and Alex felt a flicker of memory. Someone sitting on her bed, touching her face—a cool hand against her fevered brow.
Mama?
The childish voice—hers—made Alex blink. She had few memories of her mother. She’d been so young when Janet died; then Charlie had packed Alex up and taken her away, leaving every memento behind. Once in a while, she got flashes—like now—but in truth they were becoming more rare as time went on. She wondered if the same thing would happen to her memories of Charlie. God, she hoped not. If she lost those, she’d be completely alone.
“You feel any better?” Ella asked.
Alex nodded. Maybe Barlow was back.
And the rush of warmth that followed that thought made her dizzy again. She closed her eyes as Ella slipped out.
She hated this. Alex had rarely been sick in her life, and she wasn’t supposed to be sick at all while a werewolf.
“Call it a perk,” she murmured.
What was she going to do about this bizarre development? How could she ever leave Barlowsville if leaving made her so sick she couldn’t move?
Although…If she could make it to Edward and partake of the Jäger-Sucher cure, wouldn’t that make this all go away?
Or she could man up, stick to her original plan, and kill him, though that option was becoming less and less appealing.
