Page 62 of Halfblood Deceived

“I’m right here if you need me,” the vampiress said.

“Okay,” Aella murmured.

It took her a few tries, but she managed to sit with her legs half-folded and sideways instead of sprawling gracelessly on the floor. Taking a bracing breath, Aella examined the wounds. A gasp escaped her at the sight of the silvery scars on her skin. The one on her left side hurt less, but was thicker than the one right beneath her sternum. Maybe because it had taken longer for that one to be healed.

Aella gingerly touched the three-inch-long scar on her upper abdomen. She still didn’t understand how she wasn’t very dead. Kamilla had mentioned that Zeydan had healed her, along with two other people—Aylana and Sebastian. But it was hard to believe that they could cure such a wound at all, even if she could see it with her own eyes.

She sighed. Was she happy to be alive? She was alone now, more than ever before. The gargoyles would never accept her back. Not that she would have wanted it after what she saw, but she would miss a few of them. Charity and Ez had been a bright point in her bleak life. She would miss playing with them and reading to them. Despite how angry Aella was with Claudia, she knew she’d miss her friend, too.

And Isaiah… Aella’s throat tightened and her eyes burned. Isaiah had seen how wrong everything was as well. He’d tried to help the vampire family—Tatsuki, Anna, and Aiko; Aella would never forget their names—and he had paid for it. Traitors were interrogated and then condemned to death. Which meant Isaiah would be tortured and then killed. Aella sniffed, her mind’s eye replaying Isaiah’s every kind smile, fleeting but soothing touch, and deep, comforting voice. He was most likely dead. God, Aella hoped he was dead because the alternative was too harrowing to even fathom.

The water fell on her head, washing away her tears and most of the hair dye. It cascaded down her body, warm and soothing.

Aella stayed put until the water was clear and her eyes didn’t burn anymore, then she closed the tap and tried to stand. Holding onto the wall, she planted her feet on the floor and slowly pushed up—her legs lost strength and she fell on her backside again, pain exploding in her scars.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” Kamilla asked.

Aella remembered the time Micah had made her run four hours straight on the treadmill because she had skipped one day. Her legs had been so sore and weak afterward that she’d fallen in the shower and cracked her head against the wall. Micah had yanked her to her feet so hard she thought he’d rip her arm clear off and screamed at her about how it was her fault. She’d done nothing more than cry and beg for his forgiveness.

Aella covered her face with her hands to stifle a sob. She opened the faucet again and splashed water on her face, cold this time, so she wouldn’t get swollen and red.

After a minute, she was shaking violently, so she hastened to stop the water. “I-I n-need help.”

The door unlocked a second later.

Kamilla’s brow furrowed as she examined Aella’s shaking body.

She froze, regretting her decision to call for help. She’d never been naked in front of anyone that wasn’t Micah for a decade and a half, and he always had a comment or ten to make about her inappropriate body.

Kamilla’s gaze did not reflect disapproval or revulsion, but deep worry. “Goddess, Aella, you need to get warm,” she said, opening the crystal door and bending to pick up Aella from the floor as if she were weightless.

The vampiress didn’t seem to mind that she’d gotten her feet and blue dress wet. She placed Aella on the edge of the bed and then vanished for a second, returning with a few towels. She wrapped the largest one around Aella’s body, then carefully enveloped Aella’s soaking hair with another.

“Cold water and blood loss don’t mix well, Aella,” Kamilla said, bending to wrap Aella’s legs with another towel. “We gave you a transfusion, but your body still needs to heal—”

“A trans-fu-sion?” Aella asked through chattering teeth. “B-but I’m half gargoyle. How—”

“Human blood works fine with gargoyles,” Kamilla interrupted, as she went to the fireplace to stoke the flames and add another log. “Maybe I should have asked a friend for her blood instead. She’s a half-human gargoyle—just like you.”

Aella blinked at Kamilla, stunned at hearing the vampiress call a gargoyle her friend.

Kamilla granted her a rueful smile as she approached the bed, rubbing Aella’s towel-covered arms. “Yes, I have a gargoyle friend. She works at Hecate, my nightclub.”

Aella merely blinked, her mind spinning.

Kamilla left her side to get a towel bathrobe from the closet.

Aella looked at everything but Kamilla’s face as the vampiress lifted her, holding her steady with one arm around her waist as she helped her get into the robe. Then, swiftly but ever so gently, Kamilla lifted Aella in her strong, lean arms to place her in a chair by the fireplace.

The heat of the fire and the smell of burning wood helped Aella relax. Her teeth stopped chattering.

“I thought you killed all the gargoyles you laid your eyes on,” she dared to say after a few minutes of silence.

Kamilla sighed as she gently dried Aella’s hair. “No, I only kill those who indiscriminately hunt down our kind.”

She left Aella’s side again to get something. Aella stared at the flames in the fireplace as if they could offer some sort of answer to the unintelligible turmoil in her head. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even blink when she felt Kamilla combing her hair.

There she was, having her hair brushed by a supposedly evil monster, saved from certain death by three other alleged demonic beings—saved from Micah.

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