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Once upon a time, I’d thought I felt something like love for Delphine. We’d worked together for a few years. Our movements became synchronous. Fighting her again had sparked something in me. I felt alive again. Muscles that hadn’t found use in years were suddenly singing with joy, even if I was dying from her damned poison.
That feeling still couldn’t compare to the flare of joy and heat that happened every time I laid eyes on Cerridwen. The princess barely acknowledged me as she worked, but I could see the tight cinch between her shoulder blades. She moved quickly, precisely. Any misstep, and time would be lost.
All of this care for me, a drunkard who kept yelling at her.
I should stop drinking. The thought slipped through my mind. It seemed like the right thing to do until the memories came flooding back in. How long had it been since my last drink? If I was going to die here, I wanted some whiskey so I could drown out the screams still howling inside my skull.
This is what I deserved, though. I didn’t deserve to die in peace. These were the screams of my people, of the fae that I’d failed when I obeyed my final orders. I should have pushed back. The order to escape and survive had only doomed me to a tortured existence. How could I continue living when there were so many ghosts inside me now?
Cerridwen interrupted my sour thoughts when she crouched in front of me. She gripped my chin once again, tilted my head back, and poured a hot liquid down my throat. I would have done it myself, but I quickly realized that the poison had shut down all muscle movement. Nothing worked, not even my fingers or toes.
When she finished, she grazed my cheek with her palm. Heat consumed my body. I inhaled sharply and clenched my fists to push back the need trying to take over. I could move again. The potion barely had time to do its job, which meant that my body had reacted to Cerridwen’s touch.
She could raise a man from the dead with nothing more than a gentle touch. She certainly raisedsomethingfor me. That was a fact that I needed to hide. The princess didn’t need to know that something so simple as an affectionate touch could turn me on.
Damn. Was my life really that sad? Was that all it took?
Shit. It made sense, but I didn’t have to like it.
At least, I wasn’t going to die here. I gripped the bolt still in my heart and braced to pull it out. Cerri reached to stop me. A look of disdain twisted her expression as she shook her head.
“Don’t kill yourself after I just saved your ass. If you pull that out now, you’re going to cause a massive amount of damage.”
I groaned. “I’m not going to heal with the damn thing stuck in my chest. Am I?”
Cerri narrowed her eyes and snatched my chin in her hand. “There are better ways to do this, you little barbarian of a man.”
“Little? What are you talking about? I’m a massive barbarian!” I bellowed.
The corners of her mouth lifted. She bit her lower lip to keep from smiling. Still, I could see the glimmer of laughter hidden in her eyes.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered under her breath as she turned back to her brewing station.
Cerri opened cupboards and moved jars around in search of something; of what, I wasn’t sure because she wasn’t being all that talkative about her process. I could only sit back and watch while she worked. When she lifted a jar filled with something red, I paused. The jar’s contents had dried like rust-colored paint.
I sniffed the air and caught a hint of metal and brimstone drifting about when she shook the jar. Recoiling, I bit my tongue.
No, this wasn’t an instance where I could stay silent.
“Is that demon blood?” I blurted.
Cerri’s brows furrowed, her eyes sliding towards the jar. She opened her mouth and paused. A heartbeat passed while she considered the jar’s contents. “Notexactly.”
I leaned forward only to be brought up short by the bolt in my chest. The tip shifted in my heart and sent a flicker of pain radiating through my chest. My breath hitched, but I swallowed the sound and the pain.
Cerri raised one hand, palm out. “I can explain. This doesn’t belong to an imp, a demon, or even a demon general. I’ve seen a couple of those, and I would never deal in their blood.”
Taken aback, I blinked. “You’ve dealt with demon generals before? That’s a story I need to hear. Maybe not right now, but eventually.”
“My friends have stopped two different apocalypses now. They’re…so accident prone. I don’t understand how either of them stumbled into the rapture or Ragnarök.” She shook her head in disdain.
Cerri pried the cap off the jar of dried blood and poured the bits into her cauldron. “Violet is the daughter of a human woman and Lucifer. He really does love her mother. The two have been dating again now that Lucifer can walk the mortal plane.”
“So, what do you think you can do with her blood?” I gripped the bolt in my chest again. “I don’t get why I’m sitting here with this thing inside me when I can just rip it out.”
Cerri hissed when I tugged at the bolt. “Quit that! Just let me help you.”
“I thought that’s what I’ve been doing?” I grumbled and plopped backwards.
