Page 88 of After Darkness Falls

“It’s best if you keep your distance. Blair and Gwen are trying to slow down the change. He’s fighting them, although he’s just taken a sleeping draught that should have knocked him out. He’s restrained, but…”

She was already at the door.

Bash was lying on a ruby-red velvet sofa, his arms crossed on his chest, his upper body in chains. His eyes were shut, yet he writhed and groaned, his teeth biting the air.

Blair was holding on to his forehead, chanting. Her kindness had overwritten her caution. Gwen was no better, holding his torso so he couldn’t move too much.

“Chloe! Stay away, he’s extremely dangerous.”

Her change had been obvious to Levi and the huntsmen, but the witches didn’t seem to have caught on yet. Probably because their attention was focused on Bash.

“It’s fine. I have a cure.”

She could feel everyone freeze as she held out her wrist.

Mid-move, she realized that baring her teeth right now wasn’t the smartest move.

“Anyone have a knife?”

When Tris was in the room, the answer to that question was always yes. She threw one of her knives and Chloe caught it with no effort. She sliced her wrist, wincing at the sharp pain, and held it up right in front of Bash’s open mouth.

She had to admit, she gasped along with everyone else.

She hadn’t expected this.

Earlier today, her blood had been just as red as the sofa. She’d never thought that part of her had changed, but if it had, she expected it to become black like Eirikr’s. To her relief, it wasn’t.

The blood was amethyst. A bright shade of darker purple, as unnatural as it was fascinating. Her scattered brain couldn’t help admiring it. Then, under her arm, Bash sighed deeply and settled on the sofa. Smiling, she pulled her hand back and concentrated on her friend. His chest was rising and falling. He’d be fine.

Right?

But deep down, she knew he wouldn’t be. Not truly. She’d cured him from the feral bite, yes, but Bash had been killed and, while he lingered in darkness, given vampire blood.

When he woke, he wouldn’t be the same.

This was better than the alternative, though.

She got up and turned to the silent room.

“All right, so this calls for hot chocolate. Where’s the kitchen?”

* * *

They didn’t find the kitchen, although they stumbled upon various fascinating rooms—two torture chambers, a lab Frankenstein would have been proud of, and a hall full of weapons that Bat whistled upon seeing.

"Dude, Tris will flip her shit. Is that Damascus steel?"

Chloe, who had no clue what Damascus steel was, pouted because it definitely wasn't hot chocolate.

She had to admit, she was reassured. Comforted in the knowledge that she could still desire some fluffy cocoa with rum rather than just blood, and blood, and more blood, as she'd feared.

She had to ask Levi how the whole drinking blood thing was supposed to work.

She had to ask Levi so many questions. After she was done yelling at him for hiding all this. And snapping her neck. And everything.

"Wootz steel, actually. Faint distinction in the pattern—it's hard to tell at first glance."

Chloe turned on her heel, and there he was. Blood up to his elbow, his suit torn, but he looked so very calm one would have thought he'd just come out of a long, relaxing bath.

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