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He tried to take solace in that statement, but it didn’t fully register.
What about the humans who had experienced those comforts? What about medical equipment that would outfit a hospital capable of caring for someone like Jade—or her friend Michael—at a time such as this?
Obviously, Davian could drive himself mad contemplating these things. Instead, he said, “Back to sleep.”
“Okay. But…keep talking. Please. Even if you’re just reading to me. Your voice is soothing.”
After retrieving Alice in Wonderland from the living room, he settled next to Jade again. She was soundly out, but he did as she asked. Would do anything she asked of him, Davian already knew, short of helping her to end her existence prematurely.
Several days passed, with Sheena joining the convalescence effort. She served Jade water and broth when she was awake. Then Davian carried Jade
to a cool bath to relieve some of the sting of her burns, which she hadn’t yet been able to heal—and they didn’t seem to be improving on their own.
The doctor advised him not to disturb the blisters or peel the dead skin away, reiterating the layer beneath would be too vulnerable to infection. Unfortunately, it was difficult trying to keep her back cool and the rest of her warm.
Davian remained vigilant, though. And Sheena was no less supportive. Sometimes, she even sent him away when he was wound too tight with emotion. He went, not because he’d ever taken orders from anyone other than his father, but because he knew it was best for his own sanity. Sheena never wavered in occupying the chair next to Jade’s bed, reading to her as he’d done.
A week after the attack, Jade’s pulse was strong and steady, satisfactory to Schaeffer. Her stitches had dissolved into her skin before the physician had even had the chance to remove them and there wasn’t a trace of a scar. The cuts on her face and arms had also disappeared, and her cracked rib seemed to be only mildly tender. Yet her back was still ravaged, because it didn’t heal at the accelerated rate.
In fact, both Schaeffer and Davian noted the injury seemed barely to heal at all. The doctor eventually cut away the skin from the popped blisters, but the raw layer beneath continued to bleed. He gave Davian a heavy antibiotic cream to slather on her skin, now that Jade was able to lie on her stomach.
Another week went by. Davian stretched alongside her on the bed one afternoon. Sheena always returned to the castle before dawn and then came to the cottage after dusk, usually with a fresh set of sheets and another clean comforter for Jade.
The house was quiet, save for Jade’s breathing and the crackle of the fire. He’d finished Alice in Wonderland and three other books Lisette had sent over with one of the slayers, since they’d informed the villagers Jade needed to recover without interruptions.
Davian could only imagine how agitated that made Michael. Were he in the other man’s shoes, he’d be desperate to see her. He could empathize with Jade’s friends, though he didn’t want anyone to become suspicious of her demi-demon abilities.
“Your back is finally looking better.” He was able to put aloe on it now, since the threat of infection had lessened.
“What a nightmare,” she said. “I could tell by everyone’s face how horrible the wounds appeared.”
“We were more concerned about how painful they were for you.”
She sighed. “Once I separated the burns from the cut on my chest, I really didn’t want to deal with the scorched skin—it was much too exhausting.”
“You tried to let the wounds heal on their own.”
“Ordinary people survive second-degree burns, Davian.”
“Yes, well…” He brushed strands of hair from her face. She’d folded her arms over a pillow and her cheek rested on her stacked hands as she gazed at him. The doctor recommended that she stretch regularly to keep the new skin from healing too tight and this seemed to be a comfortable position for her. “You’re not ordinary, so stop pretending to be.”
A sharp laugh fell from her lips. “I’m not complaining about my abilities. The agony level, however, could be reduced by several notches and I’d be happier for it.”
“Yes, there is that.” He recalled the needle incident the night of the assault. “My restraint was put to the test when Schaeffer gave you that shot of morphine, adding to your pain.”
“But you realized it wasn’t his fault.”
“That’s a much easier thing to accept in theory than in reality.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyelids dipping. She still slept a lot. “You obviously picked the wrong human to fall in love with.”
He chuckled, despite the tension that coiled his gut over having fallen for a mortal—one he had difficulty protecting. “No, I didn’t.”
She smiled. “There’s something I forgot to tell you.”
“What’s that?” he asked as he stroked her hair.
“I love you too.”
