Page 195 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

“It’s fine. I never knew him. But I don’t think my mother ever moved on from it.”

“And she never blamed your father for that?”

“Strangely, no. But I think he blames himself for it. If only he’d come sooner. If only he’d taken her with him. So many ifs…”

I ponder over his words for a moment.

“I get now why you don’t want to be like your father. He let your mother down when she needed him the most.”

“I would never let you down, Minnie. I hope you know that. No matter where you are or what separates us, I will always find you.”

“Ah, Mine, that’s so sweet of you to say.” I don’t add that it’s likely impossible for him to stay true to his promise due to the fact that he’s human and I’m…not.

“It’s not just a platitude. I mean it. There might be a time when you are alone and afraid. When that time comes, please remember my words. I will find you. I will be there for you. Be like my mother and never lose hope.”

I lean into him, soaking in his words.

Yet as I blink, the world starts spinning, the image in front of me flashing in and out. Instead of the bright light of the bath house, darkness glides over my eyes.

There’s something there. Something that isn’t quite right.

A sharp pain erupts in my head.

“Go back, Minerva. Show me what happened next,” a dark, unfeeling voice commands me. The compulsion is so strong I can only obey.

TWENTY-SEVEN

I openmy eyes and find myself alone on the large bed in the main bedroom. Slowly, the events of the day before flash through my mind.

After Mine had significantly recovered, he’d washed all the blood from his body before doing the same with me. He has a strange fascination with washing me but since he seems to enjoy it and I’m rather partial to it, too, I let him do it. When we were both clean, he took me out of the pool and dried me before carrying me to the main bedroom of the house.

He was all purpose and determination as he laid me on the bed and went to look through the various chests of drawers. He found some dresses, some male clothing, and even a silky nightgown, which he’d promptly shrugged over my head.

I’d looked at him perplexed. Not a few hours before he’d been barely able to move and now he was taking charge as if he owned the house…and me.

He’d put on a cotton tunic, too, and he came to bed, though retrospectively I realize he must have done it so I didn’t look at the extensive damage his bout of illness had wrecked on his body.

“Let’s sleep,” he’d whispered as he pulled the blankets aside, nestled both of us within, and hugged me to his chest.

Too weary from everything that had happened, I could only let my body relax knowing he was fine. He was alive and next to me. The tight hold of his arms was all I needed to feel safe and at peace, so I’d drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

But as I take in the empty other half of the bed, my anxiety returns in full force.

Where is he? Is he fine? Is he suffering in silence?

Panic burrows in my breast until I can barely breathe. The thought that he could so easily be taken away from me awakens a fear in me I previously thought myself impervious to.

Jumping out of bed, I look dazedly around the room and when I don’t find him, I go to all the rooms of the cabin, one by one.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips when I see him on the floor of the drawing room, surrounded by open books. The color has returned to his face, though the new scars are still red and angry.

“You should have woken me up,” I tell him as I take a seat next to him on the floor. I breathe in and out to calm myself, though my heart is still giving me palpitations.

“You were tired from yesterday. You should have slept more,” he replies with a soft smile as if I had been the one at death’s door just hours prior. A flush goes up my face and a sliver of guilt spears its head as I think I might not have done enough for him.

Here he is, worrying I didn’t get enough rest when his entire body had been split open and bleeding from this mysterious illness.

Although I appreciate his concern, I wish he took better care of himself too. I’m the immortal one here, and he’s the human with a debilitating illness.

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