“For the love of all that is holy, what did you do to him?” Harriet said through tight lips.
“Nothing!” Rowan said defensively. “Why would you assume I did this?”
“Well, what caused it then? Did he remember about the Raindrop of Heaven and pass out from the shock?”
“No… No.” Rowan frowned. “Well, actually… he didn’t remember, but shock may have been involved. And some blood loss.”
“Blood loss?”
“From a vampire bite.” Rowan’s shoulders slumped as she delivered the news.
Harriet’s expression turned horrified. “A vampire? In Manhattan?”
Rowan gave her a quick rundown of everything they’d seen.
“So he’s been like this since the bite?”
Shifting uncomfortably, Rowan said, “No, he was fine until I showed him my wings.”
“You what?” Harriet’s eyebrows inched toward the ceiling.
“He needed to know. I had to prove to him that what he saw tonight was real. They could come for him, Harriet. He has to be ready.”
“And you couldn’t wait until, I don’t know, his body recuperated from the trauma of the evening?”
She scowled. “Sure, that makes sensenow. In fairness, I didn’t think he was badly hurt. He seemed fine when we arrived here.”
“This is very irresponsible, Rowan. He’s an NYPD detective. Even if he hasn’t remembered about the Raindrop of Heaven, you’ve shown him your identity and Zelda’s Folly, not to mention brought him to your true home. Do you realize the risk? You could lose everything you hold most dear. The forget-me potion is still brewing. I can’t even make him forget.”
Rowan closed her eyes and released a deep breath. “I don’t want him to forget. I want you to heal him. Can you fix him?”
Harriet’s steely gaze perused her, her lips twitching at the corners. “Ah, I see now.” She flashed a small, knowing smile. Nodding slowly, she said, “I think I can help you. I brought with me my strongest healing elixir. It’s not a blood transfusion, mind you. It will only help his human body heal itself, nothing more. But he’s strong and his heart is still beating. That’s something. There is always risk with humans though, you understand. Fragile creatures.”
“I understand. I’ll take him to the human hospital if he gets worse.”
Harriet reached into her handbag and pulled out a small vial. “Hold his head.”
Together, they held Nick’s mouth open and poured the elixir down his throat. He made a face, coughed, and rolled onto his side. Harriet dropped the empty vial into her bag.
“Is that a Birkin bag?”
Harriet straightened. “Yes. Why?”
“That’s an $8,000 bag.” Rowan held the piece of art hanging at Harriet’s elbow between her hands, admiring the leather.
“You pay me very well.”
“How much do I pay you?”
“Ask your accountant.”
“You are my accountant!”
“You pay me very well.”
Rowan raised an eyebrow. Even she didn’t own a Birkin bag. Not that she couldn’t afford one.
Harriet adjusted the bag on her elbow. “Now, we must talk before the detective wakes.”
