‘Can we see him?’ Nick asked.
‘Yes. He’s still sedated but you can pop in for a few moments,’ the doctor said. ‘One at a time, though, and only a few of you.’
Nicholas went first, followed by Samantha. When the beta werewolf returned she looked emotional but there was also relief in her face. ‘You should go in, Mallory,’ she said.
‘Yep,’ Nick said. ‘Definitely.’
Mallory got shakily to her feet and followed the doctor to Alex’s room. ‘Only a minute or two,’ he warned. ‘And keep your voice low and calm. Although he appears unconscious, he may be able to hear you.’
She swallowed hard then walked into the room. The bed was in the centre with Alex laying prone on top of it, no longer in wolf form. He was covered to his shoulders with a white sheet that was almost as pale as his skin, but his chest was rising and falling regularly. She closed her eyes with relief then went to his bedside and took his limp hand.
His skin was hot, which was probably one of the many side effects of the silver poisoning. She rubbed the base of her thumb against his palm and smoothed back his hair from his forehead with her other hand.
‘You stupid bastard,’ she whispered. ‘You almost got yourself killed. If you wanted me to experience the same fear that you were feeling, then congratulations. Because now I’m bloody terrified that something will happen to you.’
Alexander didn’t so much as twitch but she continued regardless. ‘You’re going to be fine. You have to be fine so I can come back and kick your arse for putting me through this. You have to be fine so that I can tell you that I love you. I love you, Alexander MacTire, with every part of my being.’
Her mouth curved into a sad smile. ‘You’re handsome, charming and definitely sex on legs, and I want you to be mine. Forever.’ She dropped her head and kissed him briefly on the lips.
‘I’m going to deal with Chester Longchamps and make sure he doesn’t come after you. I’m going away for a while to find him a bellarmine jug but I’ll be back. I promise you that. I’m just a squib – but if you want me, I’m all yours. Always.’
Mallory’s feetfelt leaden with exhaustion as she plodded upstairs with Boris on her tail. She passed the map detailing all her current clients and knew she ought to update it to reflect current circumstances, but she couldn’t muster up the energy. Instead she headed into the small flat.
Her gaze fell on the screwed-up piece of paper on her living room floor and she picked it up and smoothed it out. It was Chester Longchamps’ note, the note that had sent Alexander storming off to rescue her. She tore it into tiny pieces then dropped them in the wastepaper basket and sat down heavily on the sofa.
What a gigantic cock-up – but Alexander was still alive and he would be okay. That was all that really mattered. She thought about Nick’s revelation and hugged herself. Did Alexander really feel that way about her?
‘Now what?’ Boris asked, sitting beside her and twisting his fingers together. For probably the first time since she’d known him, the spriggan appeared tense and worried. He knew what was at stake. Chester Longchamps was suddenly a very real threat; after all, Alexander had forced his way into the vampire’s home and such an invasion couldn’t be ignored. Mallory had to find a replacement bellarmine jug to appease him before he went after Alex again.
‘You moved hell and high water to get that bellarmine jug the first time around,’ Boris went on. ‘How on earth will you find another one and keep that silly werewolf safe?’
Mallory rubbed her forehead. ‘Vanessa Pitcairn mentioned that some of the renegade covens that don’t live in Coldstreammight have spare jugs, and so did Salty Miller, for that matter. I’ll leave the city and try to contact them. I might get lucky.’
He pulled a face. ‘Those covens are crazy. They keep themselves to themselves and they don’t like anyone from Coldstream. If I tried to talk to them, they’d probably kill me before I finished saying hello. And they think anyone who’s not magical but who chooses to live here has a screw loose. It’ll be a miracle if they even agree to talk to you.’
Mallory shrugged helplessly. ‘I have to try. What else is there? I’ll pack a bag and leave tonight.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Longchamps has given me another six weeks. It sounds like a long time but if I can’t find a bellarmine jug quickly it’ll seem like no time at all. You’ll have to stay here and keep everything ticking over.’
‘Thank goodness!’ Boris shuddered. ‘I hate travelling anywhere non-magical. It’s all so cold and mechanical and… Ugh.’ Unfortunately she knew what he meant. ‘Are you sure about this, Mallory?’ he asked.
‘What else can I do?’
He sucked on his bottom lip and nodded. ‘You’re going to have to be the one to play hero now.’
Mallory thought about Alexander lying frozen in that hospital bed. ‘There’s no playing about it.’
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Four weeks later
Even at eleveno’clock at night there was still traffic in a small city like Inverness. Mallory might have spent her formative years living in places with buses and trains and cars galore, but now she was used to Coldstream where it was rare to see any vehicle apart from the magically run trams. Only the likes of Alexander, whose wealth enabled him to own a car despite the city’s inherent magic that fought such technology, bucked the trend.
It wasn’t just the traffic; everything was annoying her. She’d left home almost a month ago and not only did she have nothing to show for her efforts – not even a whisper of a bellarmine jug – but there was also a constant ache in her heart. It was partly due to homesickness and partly due to anxiety that she would fail.
