Page 73 of Bleeding for the Prince
“Pretty good. I did have a moment when I added the birch bark, but I realised I needed to stir faster and all was well.” His arm was beginning to ache and he was glad they’d reached a point in the process where he could have a few minutes to rest.
Gwil shrugged off his jacket. “You do know vampire blood doesn’t exactly flow?”
Hyax hadn’t considered a physical obstacle to Gwil donating. “No, but now you say it, you’re technically dead, so I guess that should have been obvious.”
“I think I’m going to have to nick a vein and give it a squeeze to encourage it out. How much do you need?”
“A decent blob should do it.”
“Is that an imperial blob or metric?”
Hyax wasn’t in the mood for Gwil being flippant. He was already tired, but equally it wasn’t Gwil’s fault either. “Fuck you. Just bleed and shut up.”
“Bleeding for the Prince, not your usual royal decree… at least not during peacetime.”
Hyax had brought his sample preparation tools with him, including a set of blades he’d sharpened and sterilised for use on Gwil. If he kept up with his bad jokes, Hyax would be tempted to blunt the blades again before use.
Hyax couldn’t remember seeing Gwil bleed. Over the years, he’d got himself into plenty of dangerous situations, but his vampire strength had often given him the advantage, and while he’d sported bruises and once a broken hand, there’d been no sign of the red stuff.
He offered Gwil a scalpel. “Do you want to make the incision yourself?”
Gwil scowled. “Can you do it?”
“Are you telling me you’re squeamish about seeing a little blood?”
“Ha, ha, fucker. No. I just don’t want to do any permanent damage.”
Hyax laughed. “Okay, diddums. Let me look after my brave ickle vampire.”
“If this wasn’t needed to stop a dragon destroying my city, I’d tell you to fuck yourself.”
“Maybe they’ll make you mayor for your sacrifice. You already have the cat.”
“The things I do for you.” He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt.
“Remember I’ve bled for you.”
“I seem to recall you enjoyed being at my mercy.” He smirked, sexy bastard. “I look forward to repeating the experience.”
Hyax took hold of Gwil’s arm and examined the crook of his elbow. “Your veins aren’t exactly obvious.”
“Not sure what you were expecting, Hyax.”
He waved his hand and muttered a charm fae healers used to search below the surface of a patient’s skin and was able to identify a good spot to target. He cast another spell to prevent Gwil from experiencing the pain and made a small incision. As predicted, the blood didn’t flow freely; a glob welled up around the wound like a dollop of damson jam.
“How much more do you need?” Gwil asked. “One blob enough?”
“I was going to titrate until the potion changed to the correct colour, but I guess we go in a blob at a time and I’ll stir like a mother fucker.”
“I can give the wound a bit of a squeeze to encourage the blood out.”
“Good idea. Hold your arm over the cauldron.”
Hyax reduced the flame. The purple potion went from a rolling boil to a gentle simmer. Gwil got into position and a fat teardrop of blood fell into the liquid with a satisfyingplop. Hyax stirred rapidly, but there was no immediate change. They would need more. “Another two, please.”
Gwil obliged and it took several minutes of squeezing and stirring until the potion gradually changed to the pink colour Hyax was expecting.
He turned the heat down even lower. “It will need to steep for a few days. I’ll let Simon know he can tell Chris to get working on his lavender bombs.”
