“Great,” I snapped. “Can we get on with the curse-breaking, or do you want to keep talking about me like I’m a frog you’re dissecting?” That wasn’t me, though. The curse had pushed me into saying that. I pulled back control of myself, taking a deep breath and unclenching my jaw. “Sorry,” I said. “I can definitely feel it getting stronger.”
“Not to worry,” Marcus said cheerfully. “You’ll be feeling better in no time at all, Evangeline. That’s a professional guarantee. Now, goodnight, and rest well.” He tapped me on the forehead, and his magic wrapped around me like a cloud of cotton candy. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
I woke up feeling rested, which stressed me out. Generally, it meant I’d slept for way longer than I’d intended. I was also ravenously hungry. Groaning, I pushed myself up in the bed. I felt… pretty all right. When I pushed my shirt up and checked the spot where the curse knife had hit me, my fingers brushed over a scar that felt long healed. Between that and the scratched-through tattoo on my arm, I was really getting a whole bad girl look.
I stood up slowly, taking a mental inventory of my body as I went. Legs: still there. Arms: feeling rubbery, but definitely attached. Head: sore, but in a way that spoke to just needing to chug some water. Magic: strong, and not trying to make me destroy myself.
“Nice,” I said out loud.
Food was first on my to-do list. The vampires had started keeping some human food around the place since I’d been staying here, and as I headed down to the kitchen, I tried to figure out what to eat based on my vague memory of what they’d had in stock a week ago. It turned out to be unnecessary; the kitchen was already occupied. Marcus stood in front of the stove, flipping pancakes on a hot griddle. He brightened when he saw me.
“You’re awake! How are you feeling? Have you noticed any lingering ill effects so far?”
“I feel good,” I said, sitting on one of the barstools tucked against the island. “How long was I out for?”
“Ah,” Marcus said, looking a little sheepish. He slid a stack of pancakes across the countertop to me. They were flecked with banana slices and little pieces of bacon. “Two and a half days.”
“Jesus fuck,” I said, jumping to my feet. “What about Gabriel? He’s been with his father for two and a half days?” I wasn’t quite yelling, but it was close. My voice was scratchy from lack of use, making me sound even worse than I suddenly felt.
“Evangeline, you needed to rest,” Marcus said placatingly, handing me a fork. “We haven’t been whiling away the hours while you were unconscious, either. We tried to get to Gabriel, but… Well, it didn’t go well. We were lucky to get back here safely.”
I threw the fork down onto the countertop and opened my mouth, but he wasn’t done.
“Don’t tell me we should have woken you. You’ve done your fair share of curse-breaking, Evangeline, and you know we couldn’t. If we had woken you, we would’ve risked a fragment of the dark magic remaining within you. The curse was rooted deep within, and we had to ensure it was well and truly out of your system. Otherwise everyone would have been at risk, and Gabriel would still be in just as much trouble. ”
As if he was reading my mind, Marcus pressed a hand to the counter and leaned toward me. “Now we’ve regrouped from our previous attempt, and we have the rough outline of a new and improved rescue plan in place,” he told me. “Although it is dependent on you using your magic, which is another reason why we had to let you rest.”
At least they hadn’t left Gabriel to rot while I was out. Still, my heart thundered. What was Roland doing to him? Was he in pain? Was he scared? My mind was spiraling into worst-case scenarios.
“We’re going to go retrieve him as soon as you’re ready,” Marcus said. “I give you my word. But that does mean you’re going to need to give yourself time to rest, because if you burn yourself out…”
“He’ll be in there even longer,” I said, barely louder than a whisper. I didn’t look up at Marcus because I couldn’t bear to see the sympathy in his eyes. Slumping onto the stool, I picked up the fork. “I’m gonna push myself,” I said. “You might have to tell me when I should stop, and I probably won’t like it.”
“Oh, I’m very used to that. You never like it. That won’t stop me, though.”
“You promise we’re gonna go get him as soon as possible?”
“I promise,” Marcus said. “And as soon as we get him to safety, we’ll make sure he’s well taken care of.”
I took a resentful bite of the pancakes. They were pretty good, which was a nice surprise. Marcus liked cooking, but he was more creative than he was talented. Even if they’d been another attempt at his chicken Kiev pancakes, I probably would’ve eaten them. As soon as I had food in my mouth, I realized I was ravenous. I scarfed down pancake after pancake, and Marcus kept working through the massive bowl of batter, doling out ladlesful onto the skillet.
Marcus was uneasily silent at first, but as I relaxed a little, he began to chatter his usual nonsense. He normally seemed pretty content to talk to himself, but I saw the line of his shoulders ease a bit once he’d pulled me out of my head enough for me to respond. The events of that day at the citadel still played over and over in my mind, so I decided to fixate on one of the less horrific details.
“So,” I said, loading up another forkful of pancake. “You got kinda weird when you saw the dragon. Do you two know each other or something?”
If I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn Marcus went a little pink. “I have no idea what you could possibly mean,” he said.
“Wait. Oh, my God, wait. Are you”—I glanced around, lowering my voice conspiratorially—“are you into him?” It was silly, but it felt damn good to tease him again.
“This is a baseless accusation,” Marcus protested, but his eyes were crinkling at the corners.
“You are,” I said, pointing my pancake-laden fork at him.
Marcus threw up his hands, the picture of long-suffering affront. His finger braces flashed in the light, but the sight of them didn’t turn my stomach quite as much anymore. “There’s a slim possibility that Xarek and I have… crossed paths in the past.”
“You fucked that dragon,” I said.
“If you must know,” Marcus said, then paused to take a prim sip of coffee. “That dragon fucked me.”