Page 48 of The Immortal’s Mark

I glance at my elbow. A nude bandage sits over the blue veins. I’m absurdly grateful it’s gone. Needles and I are not friends.

A shiver rolls through me, and I tug the blanket higher. “Has anyone talked to my dad?”

Five days of silence is too long, especially when he’s expecting to hear back from me about his proposed trip. God. He has to be so worried.

“Des and Lome visited him in Italy and convinced him you were well,” Eshe says.

My stomach sinks.

Convinced…

She means the Immortals altered his mind.

I don’t blame them. What else were they supposed to do?

Still…my morals rebel against the continual manipulation of my dad’s mind.

“That’s good,” I murmur, leaning back into the pillows and combing frustrated fingers through my tangled hair.

Only…my hair isn’t the bird’s nest I expected.

“I brush your hair every day,” she says. “And changed your clothes when needed.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Guilt and appreciation tangle together. “You have more important things to do.”

Like help find Bella…

“It was nothing.” She waves my words away, but her gaze softens. “I cared for my father for a long time. Next to him, you were an easy patient.”

“Your father was sick?” It is a new piece of information about Eshe’s past.

Despite my still weak state, I can’t pass up on the chance to learn more about the secretive Egyptian.

Eshe nods, folding her hands in her lap as she settles back on the edge of the bed. “For a long time. Ever since my mother passed.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was long ago.” She pushes her long black braid over her shoulder. “How do you feel now that you’re awake?”

“Weak,” I admit. “Maybe hungry? It’s hard to tell.”

She nods. “No pain, then?”

“Nope.”

“Des will be relieved to know the clan was right.”

“Clan?” The word snags. “As in…witches?”

She nods. “Several members of the Nightsbane Clan arrived this morning. They came to help you through your awakening.”

I blink, struggling to keep up. “A clan of witches came to help me?”

“Your powers are emerging,” she explains. “They helped your body adjust to the transition of power so you could wake.”

“And I’m glad they were right,” she adds, her mouth twitching. “Des would have ripped their heads off if they were wrong. Alexander, too. And the Alliance does not need internal conflict at the moment.”

My head spins.