Page 21 of The Temptation of Roan Island

After I agree again, he wraps a tourniquet around my upper arm, then wipes the inside of my elbow with something that smells like alcohol.

I squeeze my eyes shut, turning my head toward Ruby, who continues to hold my hand. The prick of the needle hurts despite Noah’s gentle efficiency. I hiss. But the pain immediately lessens to a sharp pinch. There’s no burn through my veins like there always was at The Sanatorium.

“Not long now,” Noah says.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Ruby whispers.

My eyes open, head turning to look. “Like what?”

Noah pulls the needle from my arm and presses a compress to the wound. “Hold this, ta’ari.”

Ruby reaches over and holds the cloth.

“I can do it.” I take over, pressing the cloth against the puncture. “What’s wrong?”

Noah holds the filled vial up to the light flickering in the lantern. “Your blood is very thick. You might be dehydrated, so make sure you drink more water.”

He leans close to Ruby and whispers something in her ear that makes her cheeks turn pink before he leaves the room.

“You really don’t have to stay,” I say to Ruby. “I know it’s the new moon.” A time when hunger rules Mavarri, a time when it’s harder for them to fight their nature, when they’re closest to the predators they are.

She brushes off my concern with a flip of her hand. “Would you like me to help you change into your dressing gown? It’s likely the investigator will visit you later.”

I nod, and Ruby helps me into my night shift and a robe, then helps me back to bed and under the covers.

The fire in the hearth flickers, casting long shadows as the room grows darker. I stare at it, while Ruby’s unfocused gaze goes to the window.

“It’s strange that Vastatio only affects women,” she muses, half to herself.

“Men are stricken with it, they just don’t survive, succumbing rather quickly.”

She hums as if considering things as she sits in an armchair near the bed, and I wonder how the gears in her mind are turning.

“You enjoy research, don’t you?” I ask.

“Yes. I love it.” She tucks her legs up under her. “Especially when it involves helping women. That’s all I ever wanted for my life.”

“And that’s what brought you here?” I understand having a purpose outside oneself. For me, it’s my son. For Ruby, it’s women in our society who’ve been wronged.

“In a roundabout way, yes.” She quietly laughs. “Life is certainly strange. The women in my group would think so.”

“Your group?”

“My friends. We call ourselves The Women’s Conspiracy Society.” She chuckles softly as if remembering something happy.

“You miss them?”

“Immensely.”

“Do they know…” I weakly trail off, uncertain how to speak about her transformation.

She shakes her head. “I’m not sure they’d believe me. But I need to write to them soon, otherwise, Emelia and Lucy will believe I fell into a conspiracy and start investigating.”

“You did fall into a conspiracy.”

She laughs again. “You’re right. I did. And in the best possible way.”

I love Ruby’s laugh, her energy.