Before she made her escape, I asked, “Does he come here often?”
“Every day, except when he travels for clan business.” She jerked her chin toward the older woman. “Bettina lost her son to a hunter about two years ago. Liam was the one to tell her. She has no one else, so he’s been dropping in to check on her ever since.”
“Bettina.” Rían tilted his head. “I wondered why he put her name on the list for Brentwood, but he was adamant she come with us. I wasn’t aware they had developed a friendship.”
“He strikes me as the kind of guy who doesn’t want anyone glimpsing his softer side.” The waitress sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “Pity.” She shook her head. “He sure is pretty to be such an ass.”
That alone convinced me she was telling the truth about him dropping in daily, when his schedule permitted. Had it been lessoften, he might have succeeded in hiding behind his nice-guy façade, but anyone who put up with him for any length of time was bound to see his true colors at some point. Not to say he was a terrible person, but he was ornery. And particular. And opinionated. And vocal about said opinions.
Yeah.
I was glad I had wormed my way into his good graces.
But none of this explained his sluggish behavior, vacant staring, or total lack of situational awareness.
“There’s something wrong with him.”
“Probably more than one thing,” she lamented, eyeing him up and down.
“No.” I slid out of the booth. “I mean I think he’s sick.”
Rían followed my lead, passing a wad of money to the waitress to cover our bill and her tip, and we approached Liam cautiously to ensure we didn’t startle him. Even when I stood at his shoulder, he didn’t do more than slow blink at me. Rían got a slightly warmer greeting, a faint twitch of lips that should have been a smile.
“You don’t look so hot.” I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead. “You’re not feverish, though.”
“Hmph.” He attempted to sip his coffee, but his hand shook too hard to hold the cup. “Ri…?”
As if someone had bonked him over the head with a cartoon hammer, he jerked then fell backward off the stool into Rían’s waiting arms. I helped maneuver Liam over Rían’s shoulder into a fireman’s hold to make carrying him to Burdock easier.
A small crowd gathered as we rushed outside. The emergency clinic wasn’t far, so we didn’t bother with a ride. Rían carried his cousin, and I ran ahead to alert the staff and ensure Burdock was in his office. His skin blanched when I rattled off the symptoms I noticed in Liam, and he hurried out of the room, barking ordersto his nurses and gathering supplies, heading into a room to wait on Liam’s arrival.
A nurse ushered me to the waiting room, and Rían joined me soon after. Rían sat with his head in his hands while I stroked his back to soothe him, but I had a hunch he wasn’t up for talking, so we listened to Burdock hustling to stabilize Liam.
An eternity later, the frazzled physician dropped into the chair beside Rían.
Voice bordering on a growl, Rían lifted his head. “Was it dragonsbane?”
“His symptoms are mild for direct poisoning, which would almost certainly be fatal given the amount he consumed.” His words chilled me, driving home the potency of the herb. “His condition appears to be the result of indirect contact with the substance. Such as kissing someone who had traces on their lips.”
A kiss.
Indirect poisoning.
Sure, he was using it as an example, but there was only one person I could imagine him landing himself in this predicament with.
Sloane.
She and Liam weren’t kissing. Probably. But I could see them stealing food or drinks from one another and passing any lingering poison that way. That would also account for the large amount of dragonsbane he had ingested, no smooching required.
Plastering my back against the wall, I kept out of the way while texting her just to put my mind at ease.
No response.
I gave up on that and dialed her number.
No answer.
“I need to check on Sloane.” I rocked back on my heels. “I don’t want to but…”
