“A traditional healing one used amongst my people.”
He was fairly certain Takoma didn’t want to poison or drug him. Spencer couldn’t definitively say that wouldn’t ever happen, but considering all the ways Takoma had helped tonight, he took the master vampire at his word. Spencer unscrewed the bottle and chugged the potion, making a face at the bitterness of the flavor. No matter who brewed the healing potions, they never tasted good.
“I think I need some beer to wash that down with,” he said.
“You’re not getting any tonight.”
Takoma took the empty bottle back, and Spencer crawled into bed, lying down on his stomach to keep pressure off his back. Keeping his head turned to the side made his neck ache, entire body sore still from the whiplash, but there was a faint sensation of pins and needles at his fingertips and toes. He could already feel the potion beginning to take effect, and maybe there was some sort of sedative in it as well because it was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open with each passing second.
Cool fingers ran through his hair before adjusting the sheet over his back and leaving the heavier comforter folded down over his waist. “I’ll turn your heater on high to keep you warm.”
“You aren’t staying?” Spencer mumbled, rapidly losing his fight against sleep.
“Your condo isn’t built with my kind in mind.”
“I’ll buy blackout curtains.”
Takoma’s laugh was low and amused. “Alyona will not be impressed with that.”
“She thinks I’m trouble.”
“You are. Sleep, Spencer. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Spencer hummed a wordless reply and let himself sink deeper into the wave of sleep gently pulling him under. The last thing he was aware of was Fatima nosing her way under his arm and stretching out beside him on the bed, her quiet purr following him into sleep.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Spencer wokeup the next morning without the stinging pain from road rash and the deep ache of whiplash afflicting his body. He raised his head off the pillow, rubbing at his eyes as he catalogued all the ways he felt normal when he shouldn’t. It had honestly been nice not to have to try to dig glass out of his back on his own. Having someone else there to lend a hand wasn’t something Spencer always got.
“I don’t know what was in that potion, but whoever brewed it should patent and sell it,” he muttered.
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, watching as Fatima jumped to the floor and trotted out of the bedroom.You are late.
“What?” Spencer reached for his phone on the nightstand, not remembering putting it there last night. When he unlocked it, he discovered someone had turned the phone to silent and turned off his alarm. He had a couple of missed calls and new texts waiting for him. “Fatima! Did you give Takoma my passcode?”
You needed to sleep. You can create another one.
“I have government information on this phone.”
I watched to make sure he did not snoop.
Spencer groaned as he tapped into the security setting to update his passcode. “Next time, don’t help him if he wants access to my phone.”
Fatima stuck her head back into the bedroom, whiskers twitching.Perhaps next time, you should not get in a car crash.
“That wasnotmy fault.”
I know. Just like I knew you needed sleep. Make your coffee and stop complaining.
His phone’s clock said it was almost noon. He’d slept for more than eight hours last night. Given half the chance, he’d sleep a little longer, but he had work to do. Spencer rubbed at his eyes, scrolling through his texts and checking his email for a couple of minutes. He had an email from Maricela, who expected him for a meeting at some point today. There was also a text from an unknown number answering one he didn’t remember sending.
You know who this is, that particular text read.
Spencer knew better than to save Takoma’s personal number in his phone under the master vampire’s actual name. He thought about saving it under Fang Face but figured that was a little too obvious. He settled for Unknown Asshole instead.
Then he got out of bed and grabbed a change of clothes—jeans and a button-down rather than a suit—and went to the bathroom. He wanted to see how the wounds on his back looked because they felt like they weren’t even there anymore. It took a little twisting in order to pry off the gauze patches Takoma had put on him, but when he did, Spencer found himself staring in the mirror over his shoulder at his healing back. Some of the deeper scrapes were more than halfway healed, while the shallower ones barely showed up at all.
He reached around his ribs, fingers skimming over healed-up skin, thinking about how careful Takoma had been when cleaning him up. Takoma didn’t have to return, didn’t have to offer his aid, but he had, and Spencer was stupidly grateful for him.
