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I swallow, but I find my throat has gone dry, and I’m suddenly acutely aware of hownearNox is. “No, it’s not that. I just…I thought we needed the full moon to channel enough power to get this thing out of me.”
He palms what’s left of the fallen star and tosses it in his hand. “Why would we need a moon when we have this?”
He has a point. I suppose a celestial object in the hand is better than one in the sky.
“And the blood sacrifice?” I ask.
His irises go thin as his pupils widen, but when I blink, I decide it must have been a trick of the light. “I think we can get away with a different sort of sacrifice.”
“I can’t say I like the sound of that,” I admit.
When he pulls out a pair of scissors from the counter drawers, my blood stills.
“How attached are you to your hair?” he asks.
It takeseverything I have not to sob as Nox takes the scissors to my hair. It’s not the hair, exactly. It’s not even Nox.
It’s just that I’m not seeing Nox at the moment. And when the blades slice a lock clean off the ends of my hair, it’s not Nox’s scissors I hear.
The foul odor that stings my nostrils isn’t a byproduct of Nox’s concoctions, but of a thick layer of grime and tears from where I’ve scrubbed the waste bin clean.
And when Nox brushes a tear from my cheek, it’s not his hands on me, but Derek’s.
“Are you okay?”Nox whispers, his voice as even as death.
I grit my teeth and force a smile to my lips. “Yeah, it’s just”—I hastily wipe the tears from my face—“I just like it long, that’s all. It’s silly, I know.”
It’s a stupid explanation. My hair is still long; he cut only a lock from the nape of my neck.
He cocks his head to the side and examines me. Like he can tell it’s not the loss of a single lock of hair that has me bothered. But he doesn’t push.
Nox’s grimace is impish, guilty. But then he winks, and my nauseous gut does somersaults.
“What?”
“Lopsided sort of suits you.”
I push him again, harder this time, but I’m fairly sure he’s ready for it, because he actually lets me throw him off balance this time, rocking back on his heels before he comes leaning back into me, playfully pushing me against the counter with the weight of his body.
It’s innocent and kind and though it doesn’t take away the memory of Derek in the kitchen, it does wonders to scatter it.
When he returns to crushing what’s left of the fallen star, I perch on a stool and watch him as he works, the way his pale blue eyes narrow in focus, the way his hands are steady as he measures the ingredients, as he burns the lock of my hair over a candle and feeds its ashes to the bubbling concoction.
The result is rather unpleasant to be trapped inside a cell with, both in odor and appearance, but I hardly notice. At this point I’m pretty sure I’d drink the blood of virgins if it means ridding myself of the parasite.
“Ready?” Nox asks, and I hesitate before reaching for the flax of grayish liquid. He catches my hesitation and pulls the vial back to his torso. “Having second thoughts?”
I shake my head. “Of course not. This might not even work.” Nox clutches his chest as if I’ve wounded him. “But if it does—I just…” I wrap my arms around myself, picking at the fabric of Nox’s spare clothes with my fingers. He brought me a new set to change into this morning, and they smell like him. Like cedar and parchment. “I just don’t know what happens next, that’s all.”
There’s a gentle clink when Nox sets the vial back on the workbench. His fingers find mine, settling into the gaps, and it’s not the chill of his skin that sends a shiver rushing through me.
With just that simple, kind touch, it feels as though I’ve been lifted ten feet off the ground. The most pleasant of needles dance across my skin, and my heart thuds so loudly I’m sure Nox can hear it. Indeed, when I chance a glance up at him, his pointed ears twitch.
I tuck my cropped strand of hair behind my ear with my loose hand. “It’s just that the queen—”
“I’ll take care of you,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you, I promise. And the queen will be too overjoyed to have her little magic pet to concern herself with anything you do. Who knows, I might even convince her…” He trails off, running a hand through his dark hair.
I furrow my brow, and he lets out a nervous laugh. “Just take it, won’t you? Otherwise, I’m going to get the impression you don’t think I’m any good at my job.”
