"While I believe in Asher's methods," the young vampire cuts in, her tone uncertain, "don't you have some… I don't know… plant-based remedies? Powders, elixirs. Something that might work on what she's become?" Her gaze finds mine, wary, but touched with pleading.
"There is something," I admit. "A serum of sorts. Not guaranteed to succeed, but possible. However, it requires a main ingredient we don't possess—her blood from before the change."
I don't elaborate further. There is little record of dark nymphs for good reason: they are meant to be eradicated, not studied.
The vampires exchange a glance. Asher speaks. "The druid has it. She asked for a vial of Sage's blood as part of the payment to perform our wedding ceremony. But I don't know if she's still in town."
The mention of that ceremony, the bond forged between them, sours the air in my throat. I suppress the taste. Emotion serves no purpose here.
However, the knowledge does. A thread of possibility unfurls where none had been. A path that does not depend on the moral optimism of a vampire monk who believes enlightenment can tame such kind of darkness.
"Maeve O'Cairn is still here," I tell them. "I keep track of her movements. She hasn't left."
Kayden's brow lifts. "Though you scorned her badly, satyr, that little funding withdrawal stunt of yours wasn't subtle."
"If she has what we need, she will give it," I answer, tone unchanging.
Whatever it takes.
"He talks, and it gives me shivers down my spine," Donna blurts out. "How you managed to get Sage to say yes to marrying you with this—" she motions towards me, "is beyond me."
The words hang in the air, heavy and unwise. The room stills. All eyes shift to me, waiting to see if her candor will cost.
I offer a faint smile. "I appreciate your honesty, Donna Bright. But Sage knows me in ways others don't."
The relief is almost palpable. Shoulders ease. Breath returns. They mistake my composure for mercy. I am not petty enough to strike for words, and certainly not from someone so young. But they don't know that. Volatile creatures, all of them, reacting to every flicker of power like mortals to a storm.
"Well," Donna continues, voice quieter now, "I hope you bring some of that Sage-seducing side of your personality forward, because you can't bribe or brute-force this transformation. What Sage is now, and I can understand a part of it, will take everything you have—everything weallhave—to bring her back."
"And she will have it," I say simply. "Everything."
She studies me for a moment, then nods. It is a gesture of trust. Small, but real. The first of their circle to accept me, however tentatively. Not a development I expected. To them,I'm still the necessary evil, tolerated only because there is no alternative.
"Then we go," Asher says. "To Eira. Maeve is either with her, or she'll know where the druid is."
"Eira hasn't answered my last messages," Donna adds carefully, glancing up from her phone.
"Sage doesn't know we need her blood," I tell them. "She wouldn't go there."
Kayden shakes his head. "Unless there's another reason she'd want the banshee. Or the druid."
That possibility lands like a chill through the room.
We move at once. There is no time to waste.
As we leave, a thought settles quietly at the back of my mind: time is not on our side, but perhaps destiny is. Even if I no longer believe in it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Sage
"Knock knock," I announce as I slide through Eira's kitchen window. "I should say 'may I come in,' but… apparently I don't have to."
I wondered how the wholenot-allowed-until-invitedvampire rule would play out for me. Like the sun, it's another courtesy I don't give a damn about.
Eira freezes, edging to shield the druid. Maeve sits at the table, fingers tightening around a glass of water. They look at me the way people look at ghosts or zombies—wariness braided with fresh horror.
"News travels fast, I see," I say, stretching as I walk in. "Especially when one dies."
