Page 59 of Cherish

O-kay. Now we’re getting into some seriously personal territory, although I doubt she knows how…interesting…feeding can be between mates. Still, I cough awkwardly—while Hudson chuckles under his breath—and say, “If you’re sure that it would be no more than a very small amount and would in no way jeopardize your own health, then yes, anything you could do to ease our friend’s suffering…I would be forever grateful.”

“And you promise not to hurt my mother?” She raises a brow, then rushes to add, “Or my sister?”

I sigh. I really was looking forward to curing Mekhi, saving the twins, and kicking the Shadow Queen’s ass. In that order. “Fine. I promise.”

Lorelei claps her hands together. “I get to meet two vampires inoneday! This is so much fun!”

35

Baby’s Got

Sad Blood

“Fun” isn’t exactly how I’d describe seeing Mekhi in pain again. The sleeping draught has obviously worn off, and he is suffering because of it.

“We didn’t want to give him the other draught,” Jaxon tells me when I grab another blanket from the closet and pull it over a shivering Mekhi. It turns out that closed door in Lorelei’s apartment did indeed lead to a hallway with several guest bedrooms. Fortunately, the others didn’t have to fight through the safeguards as they carried Mekhi up the flights of stairs. “We thought we might need it to get him to the Shadow Realm.”

To her credit, Lorelei wastes no time after she lays eyes on Mekhi. “Put me down,” she tells Hudson, who very carefully deposits her on a chair beside Mekhi’s bed.

Viola had to leave to attend to business, but she sent up another witch whom she said is trained in healing and assured us she would not leave Lorelei’s side. As the tall, waiflike woman flutters around Lorelei, taking her pulse and then Mekhi’s, the tension in my shoulders slowly starts to ease.

“My name is Grace,” I introduce myself when the witch is finished taking their vitals.

“Caroleena,” she replies and shakes my hand. She’s got a thick Irish accent that immediately makes me feel a little homesick for my own Court. “I will look after them both. You need not worry.” She nods to Mekhi, whose eyes flutter open but remain unfocused. “How long has he been like this?” she asks.

“Five months or so,” Hudson answers.

“Five months? Really?” She looks astonished. “How has he survived?”

Hudson explains Descent to her, as well as the elixir the Bloodletter has been feeding Mekhi for months, and she seems fascinated by the very idea of it.

“Well, it obviously worked,” Lorelei says as she scooches her chair closer to the side of the bed and lays a hand on Mekhi’s sweaty forehead.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Jaxon tells her. “He’s in really fucked-up shape.”

“He is. But he’s alive, and that has to be because of what you did. No one lasts five months with shadow poison in their veins. Not even a vampire.”

Since she seems to know more about shadow poison than I thought, I can’t resist asking, “How long do you think we have?” I’m trying to figure out how fast we can accomplish everything we need to do to save him. The problem is, I don’t know exactly what we have to do yet. I don’t know how to find the Curator, and I sure as hell don’t have a clue what it’s going to take to find the Bittersweet Tree, either, nor capture celestial magic.”

“I’m not sure,” she answers. “I might be able to find out.”

Lorelei reaches down and places her hand on the center of Mekhi’s chest. At first, nothing happens, but after several seconds, his labored breathing becomes a little easier. Not normal by any means, but at least he’s not actively gasping for air right now.

“I won’t hurt him,” she says, and in that moment, her voice is as solemn as an oath.

Carefully, Caroleena picks up Lorelei’s wrist and asks, “Are you ready, lass?”

Lorelei gives a sharp nod, and the witch slashes her sharp nail downward, slicing through the soft skin of her wrist with magical precision. Then she holds Lorelei’s arm just above Mekhi’s mouth until a few droplets of blood fall to his lips.

At first, Mekhi doesn’t react, and my stomach starts to twist and turn with fear that this isn’t going to work. But then he strikes, fast like a cobra, faster than I thought he could even move in his condition, one hand grabbing her wrist as his canines explode through his gums and sink into her arm.

Almost instantly, his gaze comes into focus as he feeds, his moans of pain shifting to moans of solace.

The witch only lets him feed for a minute or two before she taps his shoulder with her wand, and he falls back into a deep and restful slumber. Then she applies a salve to Lorelei’s wounds and covers them with a bandage.

When she’s taken care of Lorelei, she turns to the rest of us and says, “Your friend is not in pain now. He will sleep for some time, and I will let Lorelei feed him a small amount again. They’ll both be fine, although this is not a permanent solution. Her blood will eventually not be enough to counteract the poison in his veins.”

Her words are as much an omen as they are a respite, and everyone knows it.

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