Henri
“Henri, can you please wait outside?” Lucian asked for the third time.
“I’m not leaving him.”
We were in Lucian’s infirmary, an outbuilding where he’d conducted countless transmutations on Lena’s behalf and treated our captives and human staff for injury and ailment. Most of the time the building was shuttered, but Lucian kept it stocked with enough supplies to have it fully functioning when necessary.
I paced along the foot of your bed. There were several examining stations lined up in parallel rows with a central aisle between them, but we were alone for the time being. Lucian was careful to pull back the sheet only where he was working, but I’d seen the marks already. On one of your arms, crude hatches that numbered eleven, and on the other arm, a thin pink scar that traced the path of your vein—had you done that yourself? And your eyes… Azrael had told me before that your sight was the price of your freedom. Was this his attempt at neutralizing your powers?
Cursed angel. How I longed to carve out his heart with my dagger and feast upon it. If only he had one. But I’d not let my vengeance derail my most pressing responsibility, ensuring your safety. Which was why I wasn’t leaving you alone with anyone, including Lucian.
Lucian repositioned the sheet and checked the suspended bag where saline was being fed into your veins. You were dehydrated and malnourished. That much I could determine without any medical training.
“Well?” I said, not wishing to draw it out any longer. I braced myself for Lucian’s report.
“He’s been starved, severely. Blood and food as well. I’m surprised he was still conscious when he arrived here.”
I bit down on the fleshy part of my bent finger and shut my eyes. I didn’t want to imagine the brutality Azrael had inflicted upon you, but I could think of nothing else.
“He’s a fighter,” I said at last.
“I’d recommend a feeding tube for now,” Lucian said, listening to your heart again for any abnormalities.
“Is that necessary?” You’d been robbed of so much already. I didn’t want you to wake and find your innards pried open and tubes down your throat. I caressed your furred jaw, razor-sharp and stripped of its youthful roundness.
“Perhaps not if we can get him to feed. He has some fluid in his lungs, and his blood pressure is extremely low, but none of his injuries are irreparable,” Lucian said to console me. “I can transplant eyes. They won’t have the same powers as his bloodborn ones, but they’ll be as good as any set of human eyes.”
“Can you tell what happened to them?” I asked him because I couldn’t get any answers out of you. Lucian dropped his gaze to study the blue latex gloves as he slowly removed them. “Lucian?” I was accustomed to the cold, clinical manner he usually employed in these situations.
“Excepting the starvation, I believe most, if not all, of his injuries are self-inflicted.”
I glanced back to where your eyelids trembled. The purple bruises under your eyes looked as though they’d never heal. Even unconscious, you appeared tormented.
“You think he tore out his own eyes?” I didn’t want to believe it.
Lucian nodded. “It’s actually rather clever. Vincent knew Azrael would keep him around so long as he was useful. So, he took away his own power.”
Is that what you’d done? Stripped away your own abilities. You must have been so scared and desperate to take such a measure.
“If I’d gotten to him sooner…”
“It might have been years before you’d found him,” Lucian said. “And then what? Battle your way into an Imperium fortress? That’s if you weren’t captured and imprisoned first. No, this was the smart move.”
Lucian spoke as if he admired your self-preservation instincts, but all I could see was how I’d failed you.
“He should have never been in that situation,” I growled. My fury at Lena returned ten-fold. If she were in front of me right then, I’d surely exercise my wrath.
“No, he shouldn’t have,” Lucian agreed.
My hand had gotten tangled in your hair. The locks were knotted and greasy. And more unsettling, I couldn’t smell you underneath the layers of dirt and grime.
“He needs a bath,” I said.
“We could clean him up here, while he sleeps.”
“I think that’d be better.” I didn’t want to attempt to maneuver you into a bath or shower in this state. You needed to rest and feed and not worry about anything but getting well. Having dismissed his horde of humans after the Imperium’s invasion—most of whom fled of their own accord—Lucian now summoned Stefan.
The youth parted the drawn curtain as though he’d been waiting just outside of it. He trailed Lucian similarly to the way your cat followed you, invisible until desiring to make his presence known. I didn’t know if his sulkiness was because he’d been called as a servant or if you were the source of his displeasure. Despite our somber circumstance, Lucian’s mood brightened at his pet’s arrival.
