Page 55 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

“I’m there,” I whispered.

“Wrap around me,” she said. “Then feel for what’s wrong.”

I imagined encircling that core with my own power. Carefully. Slowly. Not choking, not constricting. Supporting.

At first it felt like I was trying to hug lightning. Her magic sparked and snapped, testing my hold, instinctively defensive even with me.

“Easy,” I coaxed. “I’m not here to fight you.”

The sparks softened.

Gradually, the wild current settled enough that I could sense something else. A foreign presence. Darker. Heavier. It coiled along the outer edges of her energy, oozing like thick smoke, sinking invisible fingers into the channels where her power used to flow freely.

I shuddered. “Found it.”

Raven’s breath hitched. “Describe it.”

“Feels like… oil poured into a river,” I said slowly. “Heavy. Slick. It’s not just in the wound. It’s spreading through your bloodstream.”

“That’s why my magic isn’t responding,” she whispered.

“I can cage it,” I said, focusing.

“Do it,” she breathed.

I gathered my magic—not the wild, battle-ready force I used to kill, but the quieter current hiding beneath that. The part that had learned patience from hours of meditation with Rene, even when I rolled my eyes through most of it.

Instead of blasting the poison, I drew lines around it. Thin bands of light, careful not to cut into Raven’s energy. Slowly, I traced a ring around the first cluster of darkness, then another. Each one hummed with quiet force, compressing the oily shadows into a smaller space.

The poison resisted.

It pushed back, trying to seep through the seams of my construct, but I kept reinforcing them, weaving more threads of light until the first cluster was contained.

Sweat prickled at my temples, even though my body wasn’t moving.

Raven let out a tiny gasp. “Something shifted.”

“Containment,” I said through gritted teeth. “Round one.”

Con’s hand closed around my wrist. “Your pulse is climbing.”

“Let her work,” Raven rasped.

I moved to a second pocket of darkness. Then a third. Each time, I wrapped and compressed, pulling the poison into confined spheres that could no longer slide along her channels unchecked.

It felt like trying to braid smoke. Every thread demanded focus. Every slip risked letting the pollution leak further.

“How many clusters?” Raven asked.

“Too many,” I answered, voice tight. “But the biggest ones are caged. It should slow the spread.”

Pain flickered through the bond where she met the poison. The cages pressed it together, making it denser, more concentrated in a few spots instead of diluted everywhere.

Her physical body shivered against mine.

“Now what?” I asked.

“Now you burn it,” she whispered.