Page 40 of Crimson Born

I rushed over to Kannon. “Is it Reece? Where is he?”

Please please please don’t say the Grand Dome.

“Hey, cool your jets there, little sister. No one can see him right now. He’s in processing.”

“But itishim? You’re sure?”

He nodded, though he didn’t smile. “It’s him.”

“What’s the matter?”

Something was definitely wrong. Imogen had promised I’d be the first to know when they found Reece, but no one had notified me he was here, and Kannon was acting weird.

“I didn’t say anything was the matter,” he said.

“You didn’t have to. I can tell. What’s going on? Is he hurt?”

“No. But he’s not...himselfright now.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s sick, Abbi.”

I grabbed the sleeve of Kannon’s shirt, pleading. “What’s wrong with him?”

“It’s just as I feared. He’s been... drinking animal blood.”

My heart seized with dread.

Kannon’s grim tone matched his expression. “When I called in and told Imogen the kind of shape he was in, she gave me the option of just destroying him right there. But I couldn’t do it—because of you. And he’s strong. I told her if he can be rehabbed, he’d make one kick-ass Bloodbound.”

“Please tell me where he is. I have to see him.”

Kannon bit his lip and looked off to the side, but I could see he was on the verge of caving.

“Please. I just want to look at him, just for a minute. Maybe it’ll help him to see me.”

“Okay. But don’t tell anyone it was me who told you where he is. Our medical staff is trying to help him. The medical center is down the west corridor almost at the end. There’s a red cross painted over the doorway—a little joke of ours.”

“Thank you,” I said and rushed out of the Rainbow Cave.

Maybe seeing a familiar face would help with Reece’s rehab. In spite of Kannon’s warning, and the fact we’d only met that one time, I felt sure he’d remember me.

At least he would if I had made a fraction of the impact on him that he’d made on me. He was branded on my brain.

Unfortunately, when I reached the medical quarantine area, the staff wouldn’t let me into his room.

“Please. I need to see him,” I told the head clinician. “He’s a friend of mine.”

I had met the doctor at one of the Bastion’s social gatherings. Anthony Coppa had been an orthopedic surgeon in his human days, but once he’d turned, the constant exposure to blood had been too much for him. Now he worked exclusively with vampire patients.

“Absolutely not. He’s far too dangerous,” he said. “One of our nurses is currently regenerating a limb after getting too close. I doubt he’d recognize you anyway. His mind is muddled from the effects of blood poisoning.”

Pressure filled my head, pressing out on my eardrums. “What are you doing to help him?”

“We’re offering him time-regulated feedings of blood. But so far, he’s refused to drink any. He’s a hard case. He was pretty far gone by the time they brought him in.”

“Would drinking vampire blood help?” I asked with a mind to volunteer some.

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