I sit up in bed and watch him bring out a frying pan and a carton of eggs. He starts humming a cheerful tune and I’m mesmerized. I was going to jump into the bathroom, but now I just want to watch him.
His movements are graceful and precise. It is like watching a dance. He is scrambling eggs, making toast, boiling the kettle for tea and squeezing oranges by hand. There is no way I could multitask all of that without burning something. Monty is making it look easy.
In no time at all, he has everything ready. I’m just about to stop being a lazy head and finally get out of bed, when he puts everything on a tray and brings it over to me.
Breakfast in bed? For me? This can’t be happening.
I mumble my thanks and take my tray. Monty quickly grabs his own tray and joins me on the bed.
A warm, glowing feeling heats my stomach. I could get used to this. I really, truly could.
But now that Monty has stopped being a delightful distraction, my mood is sinking. All the fear and angst of last night is rushing back.
“Jade tried to open a portal to the fey realm!” I blurt.
I don’t think I said a word last night. I merely sobbed and Monty didn’t ask. He offered me comfort and he didn’t even know why it was needed.
Monty nods sagely at my sudden outburst. Almost as if my news is not at all shocking.
“It wasn’t really him. Something was controlling him. It was awful,” I say. I have to defend my friend. I can’t have Monty thinking badly of him.
Monty turns his head to meet my gaze. His bright blue eyes are kind and full of understanding. I huff out a sigh of relief.
“I thought he was going to kill Ned, so I ran into the stone circle to try to stop him, but it was as if he couldn’t even really see me. Thank heavens Ned was able to glamor him, but now Red and Brodie have taken Jade away to hide him, and my found family is falling apart!”
I’m not making much sense at all, but it feels good to get it off my chest. Unfortunately, I think I’m venting at Monty far more than giving him an explanation for my breakdown. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He is Monty after all. Kind and compassionate could be his middle names.
His hand reaches out and squeezes my knee. My skin tingles even though there are blankets between us.
“Pink,” Monty says softly. “You are so very brave, and I admire that about you, but please take more care of your safety.”
Butterflies take flight in my stomach. “I couldn’t let Jade kill Ned.”
Monty puts his breakfast tray on the side and turns to give me his full attention. His blue eyes hold me captive.
“Your life is precious too,” he says gently, but with so much emotion that I swear I can feel the dazzling brightness of it pour into me.
He cares. Monty really, truly cares.
I cough and start to scramble out of bed. Monty helpfully takes my tray and moves out of my way.
“I need to go check on Ned,” I say, and it is true. He was out cold last night and I’m keen to know if he is okay.
Monty simply nods his understanding, and somehow that fuels my desire to flee. He is too damn nice, and it makes me feel too damn much.
I mumble a farewell, and then I run away
It’s been days now, and Ned isn’t getting better. He’s getting worse. At first, he woke up, his pale eyelids fluttering weakly, but now he just sleeps. His stillness is oppressive, his face so devoid of life it feels like a ghost haunts the bed instead of him. He is not even breathing. The only reason I know he’s still here is because of my magic. That faint spark of existence, fragile and flickering, deep within Ned’s inert body, is the only thing keeping despair from swallowing me whole.
Sitting here, helpless and silent, is a special kind of torment. I hate it. I hate seeing him like this. Brodie said Ned would be fine, that he’d wake up, feed, and recover. He did wake up, but he refused to feed, and now he’s slipping away. Every hour that passes feels like another weight dropped onto my chest.
The soft creak of the door breaks the silence.
“Is Ned better now?” Lello’s voice is barely a whisper, like he’s afraid to disturb the stillness.
I close my eyes against the pain that question brings. I can’t bear to look at him as I shake my head.
Lello steps into the room, his small frame seeming even smaller in the heavy atmosphere. He perches carefully on the edge of Ned’s bed and gently picks up the vampire’s limp hand, cradling it like it might shatter.
