“Easy, cowboy.” Sabrina drew back and winked at him. “I thought you could use some assistance, compliments of Madam Chloe. It won’t last. I recommend you make use of that forget-me potion you told me Harriet gave you.”
As soon as Tobias had found out about Rowan’s capture, he’d texted Sabrina and told her everything. He hadn’t expected her to make it to New York as quickly as she had, or with magical reinforcements from the coven witch, but it was like Sabrina to surprise him with her resourcefulness.
“I came as fast as I could. We traveled all day. That’s why I only brought humans and a little magic.”
“What about the Keetridge Solution? I thought the last of your stores were depleted.”
“A lie. Plain bullets. Sue me.”
Gabriel joined them, pulling vials of forget-me potion from his vest. “Sabrina, your timing is impeccable, as always.”
His wife crossed one foot behind the other and curtsied low. “I live to serve.” She took the vials from Gabriel’s hands. “Now, not to be rude, but if I’m going to wipe the memories of the Forebears and replace them with a story about an explosion that killed most of the New Amsterdam Vampire Kingdom, I’ve got to get to work. And it would be helpful if there weren’t dragons in the immediate vicinity while I did it.”
Tobias kissed her one more time, then watched her hurry to administer the tonic to the temporarily catatonic vampires. Everyone stopped as the front door to the mansion opened and a crowd of humans stumbled out into the night.
Nick cleared his throat. “It’s the human herd. The compulsion is over now that the vampires are dead. Any way we can use some of these SUVs to get them to safety?”
Exchanging glances with Sabrina, Tobias gave him a nod. “My wife will take care of them.”
Nick seemed satisfied with that, or maybe he was too tired to object and simply choosing his battles. He stubbornly carried Rowan toward the gate. Tobias was treated to a peek at a serious bruise that was spreading along the back of Nick’s neck. The human was injured. He glanced at Gabriel, who looked equally concerned.
“I can carry her for you,” Tobias offered.
A growl ripped from Nick’s throat. “I got her.” The look he shot him was deadly. “No offense. I get you’re her brother and everything, but no one is taking Rowan out of my arms until she’s well enough to tell me she wants to go.”
With mad respect for the man, Tobias gave him an understanding nod, then raced off to retrieve the van.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The world held a hazy quality, dark around the edges, but it smelled of spices and sandalwood. It smelled of Nick. That’s how Rowan knew she was safe. Mouth too dry to speak, all she had the energy to do was turn her face into his chest. His shirt was splattered with blood, but she didn’t care. He was her only strength, her only comfort.
“Easy,” he whispered. “Hang in there. We’re going to get you help. Try some water, baby.”
He sat her up against his chest, held her head, and tipped an aluminum bottle to her lips. She gulped too quickly and began to choke, sputtering up as much as she managed to swallow.
He stroked her hair. “Slowly.” Lips pressed against her temple, he tipped the water again.
This time she was able to swallow, and the relief was heavenly. Exhausted from the effort, she slumped against him, turning her face to his chest again.
“I know you’re tired, Rowan, but there’s something I have to tell you.”
She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her eyes drooped and she leaned heavily against him. All she could give him was a sigh.
“I’ve been thinking,” Nick said, hugging her to him, “that this thing between us, maybe it’s bigger than the sum of its parts. Maybe there’s something to this idea that people are soul mates. This… bond between us seems like a thing we shouldn’t take for granted.”
With what was left of her strength, she hooked her fingers in his shirt and tugged. He seemed to understand. Bending his neck, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She slipped into unconsciousness once more.
The next time she opened her eyes, she recognized the interior of the art gallery and heard Harriet’s voice as she led Nick to the stairwell and then down to the vault. Rowan’s heart beat faster. If she were strong enough to speak, she’d insist on going down alone. No man had ever entered her treasure room or seen her shift into her true dragon form. What would Nick think? Would he judge her for the hoard of jewels she kept? Would watching her shift scare him away? And worst of all, would seeing the jewels trigger the anger he’d felt the other night when he’d learned about the memory she’d suppressed of their first meeting, when she’d stolen the Raindrop of Heaven right from under his watch?
But she couldn’t speak. Staying awake was enough of a struggle. Everything hurt. Malvern had drained her of so much blood, her veins seemed to rub together like sandpaper. Her internal organs ground out their activities of living without the essence of life as lubrication. If she were human, she’d have died long ago. Only dragon magic kept her alive now. And Nick. The unfinished business between them gave her something to hope for, something to live for.
Harriet’s fingers danced across the keypad, and the vault door opened with the whoosh of its hermetic seal giving way. “Take her inside and set her on the pile.”
“Fuck me,” Nick said. “Is this all real?”
Harriet made a throaty sound. “It wouldn’t be much of a treasure room if it housed cubic zirconia and pearls made of paste, now would it?”
“But… But… Where the hell did all this come from?” Nick’s arms held her tighter. If he’d just set her down, the treasure’s healing properties would start to work.
