Page 115 of Reaper’s Curse

Yanking back my sleeve, I used the paring knife to cut a thin line along the top of my left arm. I pressed at the skin until beads of blood pooled along the slash. I shifted my gaze briefly from Earl to Valen. The royal healer leaned against the far wall, arms folded across his chest, overseeing. I frowned and returned my focus to Earl.

“You touch here, okay?” I gently guided Earl’s hand to my slashed arm, wrapping his palm to the smear of blood.

“Ray, ray bleed.” He attempted to pull his hand away, but I held it steady.

“It’s all right, Earl. It doesn’t hurt. You want me to bleed, and for your sake, you want to touch my blood during this process.”

His eyes widened, but he allowed me to press his palm to my bleeding arm once again. Squeezing my arm, I increased the flow…just in case the amount of blood made a difference. Unsure of the necessary elements for success, I wouldn’t take chances.

“The rest is on me,” I said to him. “You just sit still, keep your hand on my arm, and focus on getting better.”

He made no hint of having heard, much less understood my words, but I barreled straight ahead. Embracing the belief that he wanted to be healed, I refused to disappoint him.

I pressed my right, still-healing palm to his shoulder and initiated my reaper’s grip.

My palm warmed, started to glow. The cut along my arm tingled, began to sting.

“Hot,” Earl said.

Energy thrummed, the temperature rose, and my attention shifted away from the room. But Earl… I needed to remain present enough to hold Earl to the task.

“Not too hot, right, Earl? Don’t move your hand. Keep it right where I placed it.”

He didn’t respond, nor did his weight shift. My collector’s eye ignited, and the world blew apart in a veil of white.

Somewhere within the sound of my moan, I registered Earl’s gasp, a moment before I collapsed forward onto the table.

Healing the afflicted was not instantaneous, as I had learned with my first successful attempt.

I had walked away from the woman, unaware of what I’d done. The reclaiming of the woman’s life energy had taken a few hours, and I hadn’t even learned about the healing I’d performed until the next day.

When I collapsed after my try with Earl, he was taken to another room for rest and observation.

“Please keep me apprised of Earl’s condition,” I mumbled over my shoulder, as unfamiliar palace personnel ushered me from the room.

“Indeed,” Valen said. “Should he be healed, someone will come get you immediately.”

The personnel carried me to my room and deposited me on the bed. That had been four hours ago. The experiment had started shortly after lunch. I’d slept through the remaining day, and dinner time soon approached. And yet I had no appetite for food. Only sleep. I wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep.

I lay on the bed, my flesh and blood, bones and muscles, nothing more than deadweight. I absorbed the buzz in the room and stared at the backs of my eyelids.

“I don’t know what they’re doing to her, but it’s not good. Just look at her.” Lucas likely thought he was whispering, but I heard every word.

The tiniest of sounds reverberated through my skull like a rubber mallet banging on a drum.

“Mm-hmm,” Neive agreed. “Can Winter do anything?”

“I don’t think he can. Not when the order comes down from the Crown. You should have heard him screaming at the queen after the last incident. The queen!”

With a shaking hand, I pulled the sheets tighter against my chin. “Can you two take it in the other room or shut up? You’re killing my head.”

“Oh, sweetness.” Lucas took a seat on the edge of the bed and began rubbing my temples. “Is there anything we can get you?”

“Maybe some hot tea and orange slices?” Neive suggested.

A knock at the front of the apartment caused me to wince and sent Neive into a flurry of movements, rushing to answer the door.

Lucas leaned against my ear and whispered, “Wink once if you want me to smuggle you out of the castle.”