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"You're Taj's mate," she said, and either she was an amazing bullshitter or she and Taj had parted amicably, because she didn't flinch at the statement. "Your blood could have a restorative effect on him. I can'tguaranteeit in a case this severe, but it's possible that—what are you—you're—oh, dear—okay!"
Shira flapped her hands and ran for the nearest surface to grab a bowl. The second I heardbloodandrestorative,I'd drawn a knife and slashed the fleshy part of my arm. It gurgled blood, perfuming the hospital with something other than the bitter tang of healing magic, and it was strangely calming, overwhelmingly familiar.
"Are you fucking crazy?" Sinjin demanded, jumping to his feet.
"A hundred percent," I confirmed flatly. "I wouldn't make any smart comments; I'm hanging by a thread."
Marjorie bustled me over to the side of the room, tutting at the bloody gash on my arm. "What are we going to do with you?" she sighed, pressing a cloth to my skin to soak up the blood.
"Stop fussing over me so you can give Taj and Dev my blood?" I suggested, the sharpness leaving my voice. Marjorie gave me mum vibes, and I was so starved for this kind of affection, I couldn't give her attitude.
"Shira's got that handled," she replied calmly, gripping my other wrist to assess the bloody dagger. "At least you used a clean knife."
"I'm not an idiot," I muttered.
"You just sliced your arm open without a warning," she replied, blue eyebrow raised. "With all due respect, my lady, that was quite idiotic."
My lip twitched in a smile, but then Sinjin was grumbling as he swept a mop across the floor, cleaning up the blood that spilled. I didn’t know why he was complaining; he was literally blood-red from his skin and hair to his eyes, claws, and horns. It wasn't like I'd leave a stain.5
"Careful," I warned in a barely-repressed growl as Shira sucked blood into a dropper and opened Taj's mouth. My instincts went feral, but they'd been doing that twenty-four-seven since the battle, so it wasn't new. I locked my body, forcing myself still as she administered this weird new medicine. But nothing else had worked, so why not try this?
Sure, it was blood, but we were demons. Vampiric shit wasn't a huge leap.
When Shira stepped back, I allowed Marjorie to put gauze on my wound and wrap it with a bandage, then I crossed the room to stand between Dev’s and Taj’s beds. They looked peaceful except for the gaunt quality of their faces, so alike in looks but wildly different in temperament. Where Taj was vicious and hotheaded, Dev was caring and thoughtful. Both possessive and OTT obsessive. Both seething with passion and emotions.
My breath hitched. I missed them like fuck.
I kept an eagle eye on Shira as she unwrapped a clean pipette and gave Dev my blood, too. It couldn't hurt. He'd healed all his physical wounds, but the arrow Eidolon had injured him with had drained all the strength and power from him. There was no telling how badly he was hurt where we couldn't see; the medics’ magic had found nothing. Not to mention he'd had the power of the devil for fucking ever; how would his body cope with that stripped away?
When I was sure there were no adverse effects, I sank into the padded chair at Taj's bedside and grabbed his hand. His skin wasn't cold exactly, but it wasn't scorching hot like I remembered, and holding it made me a little sick. Butone)it was what you did when you visited someone in hospital, andtwo)I thought it might piss him off enough to drag him out of unconsciousness.
"The dogs are all okay," I told him, quietly enough that the words wouldn't reach the medics as they cleaned up and returned to their sitting area. Giving me privacy because Shira and Marjorie were sweet and Sinjin did whatever his sister told him to. "They miss you. I'm pretty sure you do something different with their food, because Mary gives me a disgusted look every time I fill her bowl."
I ran my thumb over his knuckles. They were more pronounced in his demon form, and I found myself using them like worry stones the longer he spent in this room. The longer he didn't wake up.
"Mallie baby's still eating," I continued, desperately hoping he'd open his mouth and saydon’t call her thatin his signature acidic tone. "She ate another whole jar of peanut butter today."
Taj's eyelids didn't even flicker. My stomach cramped, nausea rising. He remained lying there, barely breathing, his eyes shut and long lashes casting dark shadows on his dark grey cheeks, his veins of lava dull and lifeless instead of fiery and bright.
I swallowed bile and stood to brush a kiss over his cheek. "I'm still here," I told him. "I'm not going anywhere."
But I turned the chair so I could see my devil, a miserable smile tugging on my lips. I'd slowly grown used to seeing him in his smaller form the past few days, but it hurt to know he'd never be as tall as a house again, never have that power, and it was all because of my psycho abuser. All because ofme.
If I hadn't killed Christian Lachesi, he'd never have been offended by Dev refusing his campaign to be a demon, and he’d have never set out on this campaign to ruin him.
"Hey, you," I choked out, my souls aching—both my own and the tendril of Dev's I had inside me. "Still being stubborn and not waking up?"
I trailed my fingers over his brow and sharp cheekbones.
"I need you to wake up, Dev," I whispered. "I'm completely losing it."
I hadn't realised the peace he'd given me in my dreams had healed me a little. Now, all his work had unravelled, and I went from an unbalanced woman who was making slight butrealprogress to the mental health equivalent of a racoon rooting through a bin for scraps. There had to be some sanity and strength in here somewhere. Maybe it was under that giant bag of trauma, or beside the box markedpeople to kill?6
"Not gonna wake up and sweep in to save me?" I teased him, quickly wiping a tear with a flick of my fingers. I’d become a pro at the move. "Remember when you first saved me and made me ride your tongue, and you told me to call you daddy?Well,I could really use someone to take care of me right now, so how about you come out of your coma and hug me, daddy? Sound good?"
Nothing.
I choked back a cry, dropping my head onto his shoulder and trying to crush my emotions deep down inside. But the hope of my bloodmaybehealing them unlocked Pandora's box, and I couldn't stuff it back inside.
