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They drove in silence for most of the journey back to the city.
“How’s your leg?” Nick asked again. “Are you sure you don’t need me to drive?”
“I’m fine,” Henry grunted.
Nick nodded. Henry hadn’t admitted to any pain until Nick caught him wincing when he had to brake for a red light. The fall from the elder’s attack hit him hard. He said he was okay, but Nick knew that Henry would never confess to being in any pain unless it was severe.
Nick bit his tongue before he could ask the same question again.
“We should check on Brett,” Henry said. “I’m sure he’s fine, but just in case. We can go straight there, and I’ll pick up something for dinner afterwards.”
Something occurred to Nick, and he looked at Henry. “Actually, can you do me a favour and drop me to Cara’s house? I almost forgot about Jackson. Do you think the vampire mind control has worn off?”
“I don’t know,” Henry said. “You want to check on him?”
“Yeah. Do you mind?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“I’ll come home right after, I swear.”
“Your friend could be feeling the effects of vampire influence for up to a few days,” Henry said. “Wiping his memory about something that big, while also compelling him to carry out such specific orders, it will have a severe impact on his mind.”
“But he’ll recover.”
“He will, but it will take time.”
“In that case, I’m sure he’s still at Cara’s house.”
“I’d say so.”
Nick gave directions, and Henry dropped him off just a few minutes later. Nick checked that he had his phone and went inside. The front door was locked, but he knew that they left the back door unlocked most of the time. Cara had protective wards around the entrances, so they weren’t in danger from anyone normal.
And if something supernatural managed to get past her ward defences, they wouldn’t be stopped by a locked door. So it didn’t matter if it was locked or not.
It worked out for Nick, though, since he was able to walk right through the runes and through the back door. He went straight upstairs and knocked gently on the door to the bedroom beside Cara’s.
He wasn’t confident about which bedroom was which, but after a few seconds, he heard a quiet, deep voice call out. “Hello?”
“It’s Nick,” he said. “Can I come in?”
He heard movement and rustling noises, and then Jackson opened the door.
Jackson looked terrible. He was pale, with dark lines under his eyes, and his hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat. But his eyes were focused. That was an improvement, at least.
“Sorry about the clothes,” Jackson said, gesturing to himself.
When he opened the door, Nick thought he was just shirtless, but Jackson was only wearing boxers, and Nick quickly looked away.
“No problem,” he said.
“I keep getting these hot flashes, and the clothes were too much,” Jackson said. “Sounds ridiculous, I know, but I think I’m sick. Maybe you should keep your distance.”
Nick glanced behind Jackson at the bed, and he saw the tangled bedsheets and pillows strewn across the mattress. “What are your symptoms?”
Jackson shrugged and turned to shuffle back to the bed. Nick followed him inside and looked around for a seat, and he chose the wide windowsill near the foot of the bed.
Jackson sat down and pulled the blankets over his lap. “I’m tired. Nauseous. Headache. I think I might have blacked out for a while, since I can’t remember coming over here. And Quinn’s not returning my messages, so I have no idea what state I was in when I showed up.”
