“Shhh,” was the response.
I looked up and saw a bandaged wrist, and beyond that the drawn, tired smile of the wolf king.
“Lu…”
“Shh,” he said again, more insistent. “The vamp—” He stopped himself, grimacing. “Holden told us we need to take you somewhere. Desmond says you can see the Oracle, so we’re taking you there. ”
After a tentative pause I touched the bandage on his wrist, relieved I was able to move my hand well enough to do so. I knew what it meant, what Lucas had done for me. He’d given me his blood so I could live. But it also meant he knew the truth now, or at least a variation of the truth as he chose to understand it.
“Sorry. ” I made the word a complete sentence and gazed at him with heavy sadness. How could he look at me the same again? I was sure I would lose him and Desmond both when this was all over. It made my chest feel tight at the thought of going back to the lonely life I’d had before their romantic complications mucked everything up.
“It’s okay. ” He brushed my hair back from my face. “I’m keeping my promise. ”
I didn’t know what he meant, but I wondered if he must be referring to the dream I’d had when I was dying, which made me wonder how much truth there was to my daytime reveries. If Lucas and I really had shared a dream and that’s how he’d found me, there was more to this soul-bond…
My head swam, overwhelmed by too many thoughts happening at once.
I smiled and he returned it, but neither of our expressions was happy. I drifted out again and when I awoke he was gone.
This time I was in a bed not my own, and the golden light of morning draped across the comforter. On instinct I recoiled from the light, but it didn’t take long to realize it wasn’t burning me.
It took even less time to realize every single bone in my body, every inch of skin, every joint and muscle was awake and screaming with pain. I had been in fights before, and I had been left in bad shape, but never in my life had I knocked on death’s door twice in one evening only to have him send me away both times.
I’d be overjoyed by the knowledge I was alive if I wasn’t so painfully aware of it.
“You’re up!”
The cheeriness of this voice was almost as bright as the artificial daylight and hurt nearly as much. I winced in the direction of a chair next to the bed.
“Brigit?”
“Hi!”
The blonde vampire was perched next to my bed, radiant in a cobalt blue sundress, her hair long and straight, held back by a sapphire-colored headband. Even as a vampire she looked like she should be spending the day on a beach in California. It pleased me to see her looking so happy, but I couldn’t focus on it for long. My body hurt too much.
“Calliope?”
“Yes. ” Brigit understood the unspoken question, confirming I was at Calliope’s mansion. “Holden brought you in. He was with the wolves. The cute one you were with when I came here and another one. He was cute too. ” She grinned, flashing her pageant-queen teeth at me. “They couldn’t come in, you know the rules. ”
“No wolves. ”
“Right. It’s really too bad. I mean, I like Calliope and all, but you’d think in a place that can adjust to the needs and wants of those who live here, there might be a cute serving boy or two. ” She flipped her long hair over her shoulder.
“Brigit, why are you here?” I closed my eyes against a new wave of pain.
“Oh. Oh! Yeah, I guess last time you saw me it was that whole awkward trying-to-kill-you thing. ” Brigit rolled her eyes, as if to say what can you do. “Calliope set me right. She introduced me to the council and they said I’m okay, but I need a liaison until I’ve proven myself in the real world, you know?”
“Liaison?” My heart sank.
“And that blond guy, Stick?”
“Sig. ”
“Sure, him. He said you were my liaison. And I had to stay with you until you got better. ”
This bolted me up, which I regretted when a wave of nausea threatened to pull me back down. I moaned and sank deep into the thick down duvet, shutting my eyes tight enough to block out the light, hoping Brigit and my pain would be gone when I looked again. Instead, when I reemerged from the blankets, Brigit had been joined by Calliope.
The immortal looked downright casual, dressed in jeans and a rose-pink cashmere sweater, with her dark hair in a high ponytail. She was smiling at me in the manner of a concerned mother. A real mother, not the one who had tried to rip my face off. Reminded of what Mercy had done, my hand flew to my cheek, grazing the skin for any trace of open wounds.