I choked—
Whisper padded toward me, smelling Lucien’s blood.
I tensed as the huge predator towered over me, his nose pressing against the vial before glaring at me with questions.
“H-He gave it to me,” I stuttered. “For emergencies. And I think...” I gulped as I clutched the cold vial with two hands. “This qualifies as an emergency.”
He snorted as I looked toward the bathroom.
The shower continued to fall.
I didn’t give myself time to think.
With a gasp, I jerked the vial to my lips and upended it.
The blood hit my tongue. Thick and cold, slick and syrupy. I gagged as it slid down my throat. It tasted of iron and ash, bitter and strangely alive, leaving a faint burn in its wake.
My system tried to evict it.
My stomach hurt and my temples throbbed and I hugged myself as I tipped over my knees, trying to think about anythingelse. Flowers and butterflies, summer storms and snow bunnies.Anythingapart from oily, icy blood.
Unfolding, I kept my teeth clenched tight against my body’s urge to retch and snatched my phone again. Needing the distraction, I forced my legs to move and headed toward the bed and the socket above the side table. With shaky hands, I plugged it in, attached it to my phone, and turned it on.
It took an age to reboot.
A century to come reluctantly alive.
And every minute that I waited was a minute that Lucien’s blood worked its magic.
It started subtly...a soft soothing behind my eyes, an easing of the pressure in my head.
As my screen flared bright and mobile data connected, my muscles steadied as strength flooded my veins, humming and potent, likeI’dbeen the one plugged in instead.
Messages and notifications came flying in, making my phone jump and jive.
I dismissed them as fast as I could, unable to keep up as the network kept delivering.
Frank:Hey, hey. When are you coming back? We have spas here too, you know.
Frank:Rook, this isn’t funny anymore.Where are you?
Frank:Call me. Urgently.
Frank:ELARA SNOWFLAKE, ANSWER YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW!
I scowled.
He actually went there.
He used my corporate world pseudonym when he knew how much I hated it.
Dillon’s messages crowded over Frank’s. Messages that were far, far worse.
Dillon:Give me your status or I’ll hack your phone and turn on your location.
Dillon:Frank is freaking the fuck out. Give me your location. Right now.
Dillon:Give me an update, Rook. NOW.
