If I let myself develop feelings for Alice, as Regina knows, I would begin to want more than I’m allowed—and that puts Alice in even more danger.
But I cannot think of that now. For the time being, all that matters is learning more about her sister.
* * *
It’s been a long evening,partially because I slept little last night, but mostly because a barghest found an elderly peddler before I did.
I discovered the man’s horse, sans rider, grazing in a soft patch of grass near the entrance of the bridge.
After walking the road, I found blood in the dirt, along with the signs of something being dragged into the woods.
I finally found the unfortunate man in a small cavern about three miles from the bridge, unconscious but alive. The others before him were not so lucky.
Unfortunately, the beast didn’t sense my authority soon enough. The nightmare canine lunged at me when I entered his den, grazing the side of my neck with a sharp tooth before he pulled back. He then retreated, whimpering in the corner like a cowering puppy.
I managed to carry the man back to his horse, hoist his still-unconscious self over the saddle, and then send him to the other side of the bridge where his people will hopefully find him—all while bleeding like the nightmare dog tried to decapitate me.
My magic will heal the injury after a few hours of decent sleep, but I feel like I’m dead on my feet now.
Because of it, I’m not careful enough to remember there is a girl in the room next to mine who might be out on her balcony, looking for me.
“Bandit!” Alice whispers urgently when I’m close.
I look up sharply, startled by her quiet voice in the dead of night. With dread, I realize she’s likely spotted the blood. It would be impossible not to—I’m covered from neck to boots.
She leans over her balcony railing, loose hair blowing in the slight breeze, dressed in a white nightgown Regina must have had made for her.
“Can you climb?” she asks urgently.
Realizing I have no choice but to follow this through even though all I want is my bed, I climb the lattice up to Alice’s balcony.
She panics when she sees the trails of blood and the gash on my neck. “What happened?”
I stumble forward, growing lightheaded as my magic draws from my energy stores in an attempt to knit the wound. Alice grabs hold of my shoulders, too small to support me if I were to fall.
“I’ll clean it,” she says. “And I’ll find a way to bandage it. Come inside.”
“I’m fine,” I protest, tempted to tell her the truth so I can go to bed and be done with it. But she looks up at me, her pretty blue eyes filled with anxiety, making me less eager to leave.
“Sit,” she commands, leading me to the chaise longue. Then, changing her mind, she directs me toward the bed. “No, lie down.”
“I’ll get blood on—”
“The coverlet will come clean,” she insists. “I’ll scrub it myself.”
Knowing Sabine won’t be pleased if she learns I bled all over her bed, I fumble with my leather jacket’s buckles. Alice pushes my hands away, taking over the task herself. Once the jacket is out of the way, she begins to remove my blood-stained shirt.
“Can you lean over a little?” she asks as she pulls it up.
I do as she requests, and what little blood is left in my body rushes hot as her cool, soft hands brush over my bare skin.
I draw in a hissing breath when she presses a hand to my shoulder to leverage herself high enough to slip the shirt over my head. She murmurs apologies, misunderstanding my reaction, worrying she’s hurting me.
Even I wince when I look down. Blood seeped under the collar of my shirt, saturating large sections of the fabric and leaving my entire torso smeared in red.
Now that I’m dressed only in trousers, Alice coaxes me onto the bed. It’s softer than mine, with dozens of down-stuffed pillows.
My eyelids grow heavy as Alice fusses about the room, and I barely remember to pull the sides of my mask over the top of my ears before I drift. Hopefully, it’s enough. I don’t have the energy for illusion tonight.