Page 52

I stared at the screen, but my fingers were shaking too badly to type. What could I say?

Your mother is killing me, but please don’t take it personally?

Sorry I let you stand up to the magical tyrant who raised you?

Falling in love with me has consequences, and apparently one of them is watching me decompose on discount linoleum?

I dropped the phone and dragged myself back to the couch. Every muscle screamed as I pulled a blanket over my shivering body.

Vampires didn’t get cold.

Vampires didn’t shiver.

My teeth apparently hadn’t received the memo.

The curse had changed. It wasn’t content to humiliate me anymore.

Now it wanted to destroy me.

I must have lost consciousness because the next thing I heard was someone pounding on my door.

“Logan! Open the door. Open the damn door!”

Carolina.

Her key turned in the lock, but the security chain caught. After Jacqueline’s threats, I’d convinced myself I was protecting her by keeping her away from me.

There was a sharp crack of magic.

The door flew inward, taking part of the frame with it.

Carolina rushed through the opening, her red hair wild and her eyes wide with panic. She took in the scene: me shaking beneath a blanket, the spilled blood covering the kitchen floor, and the fresh devastation of the apartment.

Her face crumpled.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “Logan.”

She reached me in an instant. Her hands moved over my face, neck, and chest, searching for damage she might understand. Her fingers were warm and alive, and I leaned into her touch like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline.

“What did she do?” Her voice shook. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she fought them. “What did she do to you?”

“Made it worse,” I managed. “Much worse.”

“Can you walk?”

I laughed, though the sound barely escaped my throat. “I can’t even stand.”

Carolina pulled back the blanket, and her breath caught.

Dark bruises covered my legs, spreading like ink beneath my pale skin. They came from crawling, falling, and striking things without enough strength left to protect myself. I couldn’t remember acquiring half of them.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Her voice broke. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to see this.” I closed my eyes, unable to bear the grief in her expression. “I didn’t want you to know what choosing me cost.”

“Choosing you was the only thing I’ve ever done that was truly mine.” Her voice strengthened with every word. “I don’t regret it. I won’t regret it. Not ever.”

She stood, her movements sharp and purposeful.