We all look at Everett.
“They were crossing over a frozen lake I noticed yesterday. Makes freezing shit easy,” he mutters.
Impressive.
And again, far more concise than usual.
Silas looks back at me, his expression intense. “The Scarab is…” His mouth moves, but his voice cuts off, and he huffs. “I know who we’re looking for and where to find him. I can do the transportation spell, but I'll need to feed?—”
Before he’s finished speaking, I sheath Pierce and step forward, pulling my hair away from one side of my neck.
“Take it.”
“No,” Everett cuts in, stepping in front of me. “She's lost enough blood as it is. Drink from someone else.”
I start to argue that he could literally drinkallof my blood, and I’d still wake up just fine sooner or later, but Crypt holds out his wrist.
“Quicky now, Crane. Before more meddling hounds descend.”
Silas pulls a face, but being a pragmatic fae, he bites into the incubus's wrist. Crypt doesn't even flinch.
But the moment Silas swallows, he breaks away, choking on and promptly heaving Crypt's blood back up into the nearest snow drift.
Shit.
What if…
I awkwardly rub Silas's back in the most supportive gesture I can manage. When he's no longer gagging, I offer a reassuring smile and use one of my dark sweater’s too-long sleeves to wipe lingering red off his face.
“I think you have to feed from me.”
He considers that and nods wearily before casting a disgusted look at Crypt. “Your blood is revolting, by the way. It tastes like carbonated battery acid.”
Crypt hums. “Not nearly as nice as Maven's, as I’ve discovered. Her blood is just as lovely as she is.”
He’s just saying that to get a rise out of Silas, and it seems like it’s working. Actually, it seems like his boat-rocking is beginning to piss off the others, too, since they’re still annoyed from that little phone call.
I look over at Douglas and notice he's starting to stir, groaning quietly. With a sigh, I withdraw Pierce and walk back to him as his eyes flutter open.
“Too soon. Back to sleep.”
Slamming the dagger’s blunt end into his opposite temple, I watch as he blacks out again. He’ll wake up with a fucking nasty concussion and a raging headache. Shaking out my hand, I turn back to the others. They’re all frowning at me.
“Why leave him alive?” Silas frowns. “That seems uncharacteristic of you.”
I shrug. “It is, but I like him.”
Baelfire growls. “Youwhat?That’s it, I'm with Si. Let's kill the guy.”
“Slowly and violently,” Crypt agrees. “I call dibs.”
“Fine by me. I think we'll alllike himmore when he's dead,” Everett adds crisply.
Gods. They're all so jealous and over the top, it’s damn near toxic.
I love it.
“Are we worried about Douglas tracing your magic where we’re going?” I ask Silas.
