Mirror of Vanity (Beyond Mercenary Book 3)

Chapter 19

Justice drew a sobering breath. “I can lead you to her.”

My gaze fixed on the alarming mixture of dried and fresh blood covering his chest. As I gently touched the wounds, my fingertips came away stained a dark red. “Not until we tend to your wounds,” I insisted.

He glanced impatiently over his shoulder. “We should?—”

I placed my finger on his lips, silencing him mid-sentence. “No, we need to tend to your wounds, and you need food.”

Garrick’s jarring voice cut through the tension. “Sawyer, he doesn’t need food. He needs blood. He’s a vampire.”

The weight of his statement hit me like a punch to the gut. Justice required human blood. My blood.

He turned away from me as if the mere thought of feeding on me was too much. He remained silent, not arguing with Garrick’s assessment. The gravity of the situation settled heavily in my chest. If we faced Maggie and her pack again, or even the Grimoire, Justice could die. The thought of losing him again was unbearable.

I stepped closer to Justice, reaching out to gently turn his face back toward mine. “Hey,” I whispered, my eyes searching his. “We’ll get through this together. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Justice’s gaze softened. He leaned into my touch, his hand coming up to cover mine. “Sawyer, I…”

He had risked his life so many times for me. This time, it was my turn, and I’d do anything to protect him. I drew in a steadying breath. “Let’s get you patched up and fed. Then, we’ll find Maggie and end this once and for all.”

I led him back into the castle, parting the row of guards like the Red Sea.

“Sawyer.” He pulled me back, forcing me to look up at him. “You don’t have to do this.”

I wanted this. I wanted it more than anything. “Yes, I do.”

Garrick motioned to one of his men. “Inform the guards that we will delay going to the Veil of Shadows until the vampire is in suitable condition.”

I led him back to my room through the hallway, past the statues and tapestries. Guards looked at us questioningly, but no one stopped us.

I opened the door and led Justice into the room, guiding him toward the bathroom. “Sit down, please,” I urged.

He gripped the edges of the sink as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. His arms trembled with exertion, his head bowed low. “I can take care of myself,” he insisted, his wavering voice betraying his rapidly fading strength. At any moment, his legs would give out, crashing him onto the pristine white marble floor.

“Please, just sit down.” I rolled my eyes, exasperation mingling with concern. Male vanity. Now, he was behaving like my brother and my dad. Neither of them ever wanted to admit when they were hurt or needed help.

Justice cast me a disapproving look, his pride clearly wounded. However, the exhaustion in his eyes overrode his stubborn nature. He relented, plopping down on the toilet seat with a heavy sigh.

I quickly grabbed a clean cloth and ran it under the warm water, adjusting the temperature until it was perfect. After wringing out the excess moisture, I knelt before him and gently cleaned the blood from his chest. My heart clenched at every wince and sharp intake of breath he tried to conceal. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my fingers moving with utmost care. “I know it hurts, but we need to get you cleaned up.”

Justice’s hand found mine, stilling my movements. “Sawyer,” he rasped. “You don’t have to do this. I’m not worth?—”

“Don’t.” I cut him off, my voice fierce with emotion. “Don’t you dare say you’re not worth it. You are worth everything to me, Justice. Everything.”

The air between us grew heavy with the weight of my words, the unspoken feelings that had long simmered beneath the surface. Justice’s gaze softened with wonder and longing.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. “Now, let me take care of you. Please.”

With a small nod, he relented. As I worked, a comfortable silence settled over us, broken only by the occasional splash of water and the steady rhythm of our breaths. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not Maggie, not the Grimoire, not the dangers lurking beyond these walls. All that existed was the two of us, bound by a connection that ran deeper than the scars we bore.

Someone knocked at the bedroom door, interrupting the intimate moment.

Our eyes met, and I found myself reluctant to leave him, especially after this simple gesture had brought us closer. However, I forced myself to stand, placing the rag on the counter. It could be something important, like Garrick demanding that we leave.

“I’m going to jump into the shower,” Justice mumbled as he shakily stood.

I gave him a hard glance, not sure if he could manage it alone. However, saying anything would have wounded that male ego.

As I left the bathroom, the stream of water pelted from the other side of the door, and I tried not to think of Justice stripping off his pants.

Keep your mind out of the gutter.

I answered the door to find two servants. One held a pair of jeans and a clean black shirt, while the other bore a tray with three different colored ointments. One purple, one pink, and the last white. I cast them a wary look.

“I have clothes for the vampire,” the taller servant announced.

“Thank you so much.” I tilted my head. “You can put them on the bed.”

I was only half paying attention to him as I focused on the tray.

The other servant bowed his head respectfully. “The king sent these. The ointments will help heal your vampire’s wounds. The purple one is Nocturne Nectar, best for deep tissue wounds. It comes from a rare nocturnal flower that blooms under moonlight. It works best at night, but its properties will still aid in healing him.”

Curiosity piqued, I pointed to the pink ointment. “What about this one?”

“That is Dawn’s Delight,” the servant explained. “It works on any superficial skin lesions, burns, or scratches. It also helps to reduce scarring, although vampires can heal scars on their own.”

I nodded, my gaze shifting to the final ointment. “And the white one?”

“It’s called Lunar Luminance,” the servant clarified. “It’s a wonderful ointment that soothes pain and inflammation. I recommend starting with that one first, then applying the other two.”

Gratefully, I took the tray from him. “Thank you. Please convey my appreciation to the king for his generosity.”

The two servants nodded. “We will, miss.”

With a final bow, they turned and left, closing the door behind them. I set the tray on the dresser next to the bathroom, then knocked gently, my heart fluttering.

“Justice, can I come in? Are you okay?” I called, trying to keep the worry from my voice.

For a brief moment, panic set in at the thought of him falling in the shower, his injuries getting the best of him. Before my imagination could run wild, the door opened, revealing a sight that stole my breath.

Justice stood before me, dressed only in a towel, the white fabric slung low on his hips. My cheeks heated like hot plates, a fierce blush spreading across my face.

“Come on in,” he invited.

His long, damp hair curled at the tips, the dark strands flaring over his wet shoulders. Droplets of water clung to his skin, tracing the contours of his muscles like glistening jewels. Even beaten and scratched, he was a damn god, his beauty both raw and ethereal.

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry as I stepped into the bathroom. The steam from his shower still lingered in the air. His scent filled my senses, making my head spin with desire.

“Garrick sent a tray of ointments,” I managed to whisper. “I can apply them. Please sit on the toilet.”

Justice’s tired eyes met mine, and a flicker of amusement danced in their depths. “Thank you, Sawyer. For everything.”

I nodded, unable to find my voice, still drinking in the sight of him. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to close the distance between us. To feel his skin against mine, to lose myself in the depths of his embrace.

Someday, I would tell him the depth of my feelings for him. Today, I was still a coward.

He was here, and he was alive. That was all that mattered to me.

For now.