Page 51 of Malice
Besides, Christian had gone out of his way to check on me. Repaying the favor was the least I could do.
Something told me that standing outside his sickroom with my ear pressed against the door didn’t exactly fit the bill. But that’s exactly what I was doing all the same. I wasn’t sure what I was listening for. Snores? Signs of life? A muffled thump changed everything, spurring me into action.
“Christian?” I called, opening the door and rushing inside the room.
The man was on his hands and knees, breaths coming in labored drags as he attempted to get to his feet.
“Sorry to disturb, mademoiselle,” he rasped, clearly still in pain. “I was just trying to get outside.”
I took in his bathrobe and bare feet with a lift of my brows. “Dressed like that?”
He gave me a sheepish smile as I helped him back to his bed. “The storm has stopped. I thought I might make a potion to help with the healing. You need me at my best. This is not my best.”
I shook my head as I tucked him under the blankets. “Christian, do you realize how close to death you came yesterday?”
“No. I don’t remember anything beyond going to the generator. Then a flash of light and after that... nothing.” He plucked at the front of his robe. “Clearly things did not end well.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked, placing the back of my hand on his forehead to check for a fever before realizing that was absolutely unhelpful and letting my arm fall back to my side.
“Everything hurts at the same time. My head is... how do you say? Foggy.”
“You were struck by lightning. The internet isn’t working anymore for me to confirm, but I’m pretty sure those symptoms all line up.”
His brows lifted in surprise. “That explains why everything smells a bit like burnt hair. It’s me.Ismell of burnt hair.”
I couldn’t resist the urge to tousle the chestnut waves still in place on top of his head. “Don’t worry. It’s all where it’s supposed to be.”
“And you would know that how?” he asked with a flirty wink. It was immediately followed by a wheezing cough as he tried to make himself comfortable.
“That’s enough flirting from you. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you need anything?”
His expression grew serious, lips pressing into a grim line. “I need to be back to my old self. I can’t do anything useful while I’m stuck in here.”
“You mentioned a potion. Is that something I could grab for you?”
Christian sighed and gave a very slow shake of his head. “Non. It’s not the kind of thing one can make in big batches. It has to be used while it is fresh.”
“So it’s supplies you need?”
Looking like he’d just run a marathon, Christian gave a weak nod. Sweat was dotting his brow, and he’d already lost what little color he’d had. Just talking was taking everything out of him.
“If you make me a list, maybe I can collect them for you?” I offered, feeling the need to do anything I could to help him.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I am. Do I have to leave the property? That is the only thing that would stop me. The guys won’t want me to do that.”
“No, but the most important ingredient is near the château’s lake. It’s a rare flower typically only found in Japan.” My skeptical stare had him offering a weak chuckle. “I have cultivated it here so it blooms throughout all seasons with the help of magic. It’s called diphylleia grayi, the skeleton flower. You’ll know it when you see the nearly translucent petals, turned clear because of their reaction to the constant mist that coats the lake’s surface. There’s nothing like it.”
I immediately thought of Grim and his greenhouse, wondering if I might be able to pluck one of these super-rare flowers and bring it back for him to enjoy.
“Okay, sounds easy enough. How many do you need?”
“Five should be more than enough. I will need the stem as well as the blooms, so when you pluck them, make sure to grab them as close to the root as possible.”
I nodded, nothing about the task seeming overly complicated. “And the other ingredients?”
“Worry about the flower first. The potion is useless without it. By the time you get back, I’ll have a list of the rest, which can all be collected from the garden by my cottage.”
