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Still, I’d realized something; I did care if I lived or died. There was something I had to do first. I couldn’t die, not yet. Gabriel and Rafe were in danger. If I died, they’d be next—and my mom’s heart would be broken.
I had to stay alive. Had to fight this poison. Had to get well.
I started clawing my way back toward consciousness, but I never made it. Blackness dropped like a boulder onto my brain, slamming me into an endless cavern of midnight.
I was out for a minute. Or maybe a day.
Time had no meaning in the midnight cavern.
The taste of blood dragged me back to consciousness. The salty, life-giving liquid touched my tongue. I instinctively swallowed.
It hurt, to swallow. But the vampire beast said, More.
The craving rose up in me. This is what I wanted, no, needed.
Fresh blood.
I sucked hard. This time, swallowing didn’t hurt so much, and my shrunken stomach didn’t reject the blood like it had the burger and wine. It soaked it up.
The terrible burning eased. Not much, but enough that light entered the darkness.
When I’d drunk my fill, I pried open my eyelids. Reaper’s face swam into view, mouth pressed into a grim line.
I was so relieved I could see again, I didn’t wonder who’d fed me, although I knew it couldn’t be her.
I moistened dry lips. “What happened?” The two words were weak. They rustled in my ears like dead leaves.
I’d promised to do something. Something important. Something having to do with Rafe and Gabriel—but what?
“Never mind.” She smoothed her hand over my eyes, closing them. “Sleep.”
I obeyed.
Another day passed, maybe two. Twice more, I woke to drink from the vein pressed to my mouth, then fell back asleep. My fever spiked and receded, then spiked again. I shivered so hard my teeth chattered.
Then finally, the fever broke. I woke up to find I’d sweated through my T-shirt, and mercifully, my head was clear.
My eyes were gummy with sleep. I blinked and wiped them.
Reaper kneeled to my left, staring down at me like an avenging warrior, eyes gleaming, platinum hair bright in the perpetual dusk of our underground hiding place. No, not a warrior. And definitely not a fairy-like creature.
She was a warrior goddess, a woman who’d stride into battle, sword blazing. A slayer. How had I not seen that before?
Silver glinted. Her switchblade was out, the sharp edge bloody.
I almost felt my chest for a hole.
But the blood wasn’t mine, it was hers. My gaze went to the line she’d cut on her wrist. She hadn’t staked me, she’d fed me. With her own blood.
I stared at her, open-mouthed. “You saved my life,” I said in a scratchy voice.
Her lips pulled sideways. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t do it for you—I did it for me. I need you.”
I nodded because it hurt to speak. Frankly, I didn’t give a flying fuck why she’d fed me. She had, and that’s what counted.
The blood craving dug sharp talons into my belly. Healing from silver poisoning takes tremendous energy.
I turned my gaze to her bloody wrist. “More.” I grabbed her arm and brought it to my mouth without asking.
