Page 77 of The Blood of Gods and Monsters

“Can you help him?” I ask her.

Maeryn doesn’t answer for a long moment, her power spreading in a thin layer of whitish gold over his body as she works. When it sinks into Regis and she blows out a long breath, I know she’s found her answer.

“I can,” she says over her shoulder, “but he’ll need time and rest to fully recover.”

“What if…” I take a step forward. “What if I were to give him some of my blood?”

Maeryn’s hands pull back and she turns to gape at me. “Kiera, that’s not something you should offer.”

“It will help him heal faster,” I press.

“Yes, but it’s illegal.”

I stare at her. “Half of the things we’ve done over the past few months are illegal,” I remind her. “This hardly seems like the time to pick which crimes I’m willing to take part in. It’s not even the worst one.”

Her lips press together as if she doesn’t want to admit that I’m right.

A hand locks on my shoulder. “Why don’t you let her do what she can first,” Ruen suggests. “If she decides he needs it, then we can give him some Divine blood to speed up the healing process.”

My gaze moves back to Regis, still and so damn pale that I wonder how the hell she can do anything when he looks like he’s already knocking on death’s door. I grit my teeth and jerk my chin in a nod of understanding.

“Fine,” I concede, “but if he’s not at least somewhat improved within the next day or so, then I’m doing it anyway.”

Maeryn shakes her head but doesn’t argue as she turns back to her patient. Regis’ crow sits perched on the back of the couch, watching his master and the red-headed Mortal God that pushes more of her healing into him. My shoulders droop. Maybe if I’d been born with an ability like hers, I wouldn’t have become what I am. Useless unless it’s to kill someone.

Ruen removes his hand from my shoulder and steps back. His presence doesn’t leave though. Not right away. As the night draws on, the minutes stretching into hours, only when the early light of dawn begins to stretch its long fingers across the sky outside the window does he retreat to his bedroom. Kalix does as well, leaving Maeryn, Regis, Theos, and me alone in the main area as we wait for some sign from Regis that he’ll pull through.

When birds begin to chirp outside, Theos moves to my side. Without saying a word, his arms come around me and he unbuckles the strap at my throat. My cloak loosens around my shoulders and he catches it before taking it away and returning a few seconds later.

“Come on, Dea,” he says, wrapping a strong arm around my waist as he pulls me into his warm side.

I’m so cold. Frosted over with the knowledge that Regis could be dying and I’ve spent the last weeks hating him. I’ve burned every note he’s tried to send and only by some twist of fate did I manage to stop myself from burning the last one. He knows I’m angry at him. He knows I hate him for what he did.

Yet, still, in what could be his last moments, he sent me a note trying to warn me of danger.

Does that make what he did okay? No.

But does that make him my friend still?

I don’t know, and yet, I’m the only one who can answer that question.

When Theos tugs at me again, turning me away from where Maeryn still bends over Regis’ still body, sweat coating her brow as she works at him with her healing, I go. My footsteps stumble as we move away from the couch and Theos doesn’t stop to right me. He simply reaches down and plucks me off the ground, hauling me into his arms and against his chest.

Theos carries me into his room, kicking the door closed behind us. He doesn’t stop until he’s at the bed, lowering me onto the mattress with careful kindness. I close my eyes when they begin to burn, but remain awake enough to know he’s unbuckling the daggers strapped to my thighs and removing the weapons. Then he’s tugging my boots off. Firm fingers touch the laces of my pants next, undoing them before they, too, are being dragged off me.

My body is lifted back into his arms and with somehow practiced movements, Theos holds me to him as he pulls back the blankets on the bed and places me against the pillows. I listen to the sound of him moving away from the bed, his footsteps tip-toeing around the room.

After a while, the covers are pulled back on the other side of the mattress, and a hot male body slides beneath them. Theos’ scent moves over me, into me. The smell of rum and spice is hot and soothing despite the burning in my eyes that has yet to let up. My lower lip trembles and I bite down on it to stop the tick. Arms move around me, drawing me against a naked chest. Lips touch my hair, pressing a kiss I don’t deserve to my head, and it’s too much. It’s all too much.

Before I give in to the oblivion of sleep, the last thing I feel is the tears building against the back of my eyelids give way, streaking down my cheeks in the darkness of Theos’ room.

If Regis dies, it won’t be anyone else’s fault but my own.

Chapter 33

Kiera

It’s been a long time since my dreams were just dreams and not nightmares dragging me back down the streets of memory. In Theos’ arms, though, that is all they become. I’m drifting down a long dark river full of black skies and diamond stars. It’s warm and safe here. Far away from blood and death and decay. I snuggle deeper into the space that smells of rum and spice. It invades my nostrils threatening to slip through to my very soul. A contented breath escapes me and a breath blows across the crown of my head. Baby hairs flutter at my temple and I wrinkle my nose at the sensation, trying to go deeper into the dream. Then wide, firm hands move over my front, down the plain of my stomach towards the place between my legs.

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