Blood Wyne (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #9)

Blood Wyne (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #9) Page 29

He bit his lip, looking both terrified and relieved. “Okay.” Taking a deep breath, he let it whistle out slowly. “I think I’m just scared. I know I’m not ready for dating, but . . . I don’t like sitting home alone, and it just seemed natural to ask her. I didn’t think she’d real y accept.”

“Chase . . .” I jumped up to sit on the table, swinging my legs as I sat there. “So much is happening to you right now. You’re smart to recognize that you need time to process it. But that doesn’t mean you should be alone. It doesn’t mean you can’t reach out to someone for comfort.

Just don’t mistake it for love. Don’t rush it. Don’t push it. Don’t let yourself be rushed or pushed, either. Let it be whatever it’s meant to be—and maybe it’s only going to be a movie and a hot dog with a friend. You know?”

Flashing me a soft smile, Chase let out a soft snicker. “How’d you get to be so smart? You sure you’re not Dear Abby in disguise?”

“Heaven forbid. Hel , I can’t even manage my own life.” I paused, then laughed. “Look at us.

We’re sitting here talking, like old chums. I kind of miss the days when I scared the shit out of you and used to breathe down your neck just to see you jump.”

He broke into a loud laugh with me. “Oh, Fanged One, you stil scare the shit out of me and I stil jump when you surprise me.” He paused, then said, “I kind of miss those days, too. I thought for sure you were going to put the fang on me, and more than once, I wondered . . .” Breaking off, Chase let his voice drift into silence.

I didn’t want to fol ow the thread of his thought, but it was better to get it out in the open. I was really tired of secrets. “More than once, you wondered what it would feel like? To let me bite you?

Drink from you?”

Silently, he nodded, blushing.

“Listen, Chase . . . it can be sensuous beyond al imagination . . . but it’s a dark al ey for a human to walk. An FBH—even one with an extended life span and burgeoning powers—isn’t cut out to be a bloodwhore for long. And the addiction to letting a vampire feed on you is a one-way street. Yes, it’s sexy as hel , if your owner wants it to be, but it’s not a good idea. That’s why I’ve never fed on Nerissa, and I never wil . She’s my girlfriend, not my lunch.”

His smile flickered, and then he nodded. “Thanks. I needed to hear that. I knew al that, but . . .”

“But you stil wondered. It’s natural.”

“Yeah, there was always the question in the back of my mind. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a bloodwhore. But . . . if anybody made it appealing, you would, with your scary badass braids and the way you don’t take any crap from anybody. I’ve learned a lot from you, Menol y. Thank you for that.” Standing, he hit my knee with the file in his hand and headed for the door. “Meet you over in Medical.”

I fol owed him out the door and turned the other way, not sure what to think. Chase had never before admitted any fascination with the vampire culture, and I wondered just how many secrets would crawl out of the woodwork now that he’d drunk the Nectar of Life.

Pushing through the doors into the medical unit, I caught sight of Sharah and motioned to her.

“How’s—”

She shook her head and pul ed me into her office. “He’s slipping. Listen . . . I’ve done some research and there’s one thing I can think of that might kick him over into recovery, but I don’t know how you’d feel about it.”

“What does it matter how I feel?”

“Because . . .” She broke off with a sigh, her gaze darting to the side.

“Just tel me.”

“Vampire blood. Not enough to turn him, but I’ve heard it has healing properties when injected into a mortal.”

Holy crap. So not what I wanted to hear. So not something I wanted to even think about. “He’s not mortal. He’s a demon. There’s no way to tel what injecting vampire blood wil do to him.”

“He’s not healing, Menol y. The wound on his side won’t coagulate.”

I glanced back at the waiting room. Camil e wasn’t there, but Vanzir and Tril ian were. “Do they know? Camil e?”

Sharah shook her head. “No. I haven’t talked to them yet. I wanted to talk to you first before I approached them. If you say no, I’l let it drop. I think the blood should come from you because you’re friends. A strange vampire might gain some hold that could be used against him. I trust you not to do that.”

“How much do you need?”

Sharah held up a syringe that ran to a tube holding about four ounces. “Doesn’t seem like much, does it, to stand between life and death?”

Gravely, I nodded. “Yeah. You sure this wil work?”

“No, but if it doesn’t, I’m sure he’s going to keep slipping and quite possibly die.”

“Fucking ghosts. Why won’t the wound heal? What’s preventing it?”

Sharah motioned for me to take a seat at her station. “The wound came from one of the hungry ghosts—we think it siphoned enough life force off him to weaken his body, and the stake managed to do far more damage than we first thought. There’s no way to give him a transfusion of energy, not unless your friend Vanzir can reverse his feeding technique and give instead of take.”

I shook my head, not wanting to mention that Vanzir couldn’t even take energy from anybody now, let alone give it. “No. Not possible. And there are no magical spel s to infuse him with life force? To strengthen his powers?”

She frowned and pointed to a stack of books. “I’ve been reading al day in hopes of finding something that might work. Camil e knows of no spel that wil help. We don’t have Smoky or Roz here to offer advice. I don’t dare ask any of the sorcery shops because of your run-ins with Van and Jaycee—they’re stil out there and they could easily set it up to poison him as wel as help him.”

I thought of Wilbur, but dismissed the idea. Wilbur was good but not this good. “So . . . the only option you found was vampire blood.”

“Yeah, kind of fal s out that way.”

She sat silently beside me as I contemplated the idea. It wouldn’t turn him into a vampire, but it would create a link—one I didn’t know if I wanted. And because he was demon, it might create other problems that we couldn’t foresee. But the only other option was to let him die. I couldn’t do that, not when my blood might hold the answer to his cure.

Final y, I swal owed my resistance. “Go talk to Camil e. If she’s wil ing, I’l do it.”

Sharah clapped me on the shoulder. “Thanks, Menol y. I know this isn’t easy for you. I know how you feel about sharing blood with others.”

My thoughts drifted back to Roman. That hadn’t been so bad, but this . . . this was no vampire older than the hil s, joining me in ecstasy. Morio was seriously wounded and this might save him, but at what cost? Just as Chase had shifted when he drank the Nectar of Life, this could have serious repercussions on a demon. On a human, it would probably strengthen them for a while, cause euphoria, perhaps even permanently shift their aura. But a youkai . . .

Sharah stood, her scrubs making a scratching sound as she slid past me. I watched as she disappeared down the hal . So many troubles. So much anguish and blood and battle. We were steeped in it. We were al walking under the shadow of death now. Camil e had her death magic, Delilah was a Death Maiden, and I was dead. And the shadow was growing as the days progressed.

Sometimes I wished Shadow Wing would just make his move, come through, and that somehow in the mad scheme of life, we’d be able to beat him senseless, slit his throat. But the Unravel er, as he was cal ed, was intent on tearing apart the worlds. Al chances were that we’d be toast under his feet.

With a silent plea for a little luck, I slipped out of my seat and fol owed on Sharah’s heels. I ignored Tril ian and Vanzir as I strode into Morio’s room, where Sharah was talking to Camil e.

My sister was pale beyond the moon, pale as morning glory under the moon. She looked up at me, her eyes wide.

“Wil you do this thing?”

I held her gaze. She was hoping I’d say yes, but I knew Camil e. She would never beg me. She would let me decide even if it cost her one of her loves. We were sisters above al else.

Nodding, I reached out and took her in my arms. “I wil , if you want me to. I have no idea how it wil affect him, but I’m wil ing to give it a try.”

“Then please, save him if you can.” She leaned down and kissed the perspiring brow of the fox demon. His eyes were closed and he had tubes and IVs running out of his body til he looked like a machine man. Sweat drenched his forehead and chest, and I could see the wound—it was a horrid gash, gaping and red and swol en against his side. It was being loosely held together by some sort of thread—probably spidersilk—and was oozing a constant stream of blood and pus that trickled into a basin below.

“Oh gods,” I whispered. I hadn’t realized just how horrible he looked. I turned to Sharah. “Do it.” I sat down on a nearby stool and pul ed off my jacket, then rol ed up my sleeve while Sharah hurried to fetch a needle and tube.

Sharah gazed at the scars on my arm. “Where . . . I don’t know if I can find a vein . . .”

I rol ed down my sleeve and pul ed my braids back. “My neck. Take it from my neck.” I fingered the skin until I found my vein—I could feel the slow blood oozing through my system, no longer driven by heartbeat but by whatever force caused the vampirism.

Camil e knelt beside me. “Thank you.”

“Thank me if it works.”

We watched as Sharah prepared the needle—a good three-inch-long spike attached to a syringe that could hold a large test tube for col ecting blood. She rubbed my skin with a splash of rubbing alcohol and then, with Camil e watching, she plunged the needle under the skin in the side of my neck, sliding the length into my carotid artery.

I barely felt a twinge as the needle entered my body, but the cool metal nestled against me, oddly at home. I could hear the faint gurgle as Sharah slapped a test tube with a vacuum seal into the syringe and the blood began to rise. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the level slowly fil ing, angry crimson blood draining out of my body.

Vampire blood was darker, thicker than normal blood, but it was al life force. I didn’t need to have it pumping through my system to survive. I just needed to ingest blood and it changed, working its way through my body, through the veins, a magical river of life keeping me on this side of the veil. I would never die from lack of blood, but I might go dormant or mad, aching with hunger.

Sharah final y eased the syringe out and pressed a bandage over my neck. She removed the test tube from the syringe and slid it into a new one. Then she walked over to Morio, and glanced at Camil e and me.

“If you want me to stop, say so now. I can’t undo it once I inject it into the wound.” She waited.

“Please, help him.” Camil e sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, squeezing her eyes shut.

I nodded. “Now.”

Now or never. This could heal him or—or, it might do nothing at al . Or it might backfire or take him on a trip he wouldn’t be ready for. Morio was caught too deeply by his fever to tel us what he wanted and had to rely on Camil e to make the right choices.

As if she were reading my mind, Camil e looked up. “He’d say, Bring it on, babe. He respects you, Menol y. He’s not afraid of the death magic we work. He’s not going to quibble over a little vampire blood in his body.”

I hoped she was right. Not that I thought Morio would object, but the way the Nectar of Life had rebounded on Chase left me nervous and wondering about just how far we could go messing about with the essential nature of the body. My sisters and I were mixed bloodline, and it had screwed up our own powers. Images of Frankenstein’s monster rol ed through my head, and Dr.

Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. What would Morio become? A potential monster? Or . . . or maybe I was just being paranoid.

“Al right, then.” Sharah slowly inched the needle into the angry flesh surrounding the wound, and the three of us watched as my blood filtered into Morio’s system.

CHAPTER 19

The room seemed to darken, and there was a long hush as we watched the wound. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but there was a sudden hiss and the gash began to foam, a steady stream of oily white liquid pouring out mingled with the crimson of Morio’s blood. It drained steadily into the basin, the stench rising.

Morio began to thrash, pouring sweat. He groaned, and the restraints threatened to break as he began to transform into his ful demon self.

“Stop this. We’re trying to save your fucking life, babe.”

Camil e leaned over him, avoiding the long claws that grabbed for her. She was holding it together in a scary way. The last time I’d seen this look on her face was when I burst through the door at home, hel -bent on kil ing and turning my entire family. Her look of desperation had been replaced with one of sheer wil , the wil of the damned.

With a loud yip that turned into a scream, Morio began shifting so rapidly it was hard to keep track, first to his human self, then his fox self, then demon, then human . . . al so fast we could barely keep up with him. The strains of so many rapid transformations were taxing him. Sweat soaked the bed, even as the fluids from his side poured in a deluge, waterfal ing out of the gash.

A look of horror on her face, Sharah cal ed for security, but they couldn’t get near the flailing youkai. But Camil e climbed up on the bed, straddling him, holding him down as best she could while they applied heavier restraints. Sharah gave him a shot of something and within seconds, he stopped fighting.