16. Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Pink
W aking up feels like wading through treacle. It is so hard to pull myself to consciousness. I’m warm and comfortable and Monty’s arms are around me. I have never felt safer. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay like this forever.
As my thoughts gather, my heart starts to race. I spent the night in Monty’s bed. I cried all over him and he just held me. He didn’t ask for anything in return. I should probably be embarrassed. I didn’t ask if I could stay, I simply fell asleep and didn’t leave.
Now it is morning and he is spooning me, and I have no idea what to do. I’ve never slept in someone else’s bed before. What is the etiquette?
I take a deep breath. I need to calm down. It’s Monty. Everything is fine. He is not one for formalities.
As if on cue, he stirs behind me. He shifts position slightly and snuffles my hair. Then he moves away and yawns.
“Breakfast?” he asks.
How does he know I am awake?
“Yes, please,” I say, because I don’t want to leave. Any excuse to bask in Monty’s company is fine by me.
He rolls out of bed and pads over to the tiny bathroom. I listen to the sounds of splashing water. When he emerges a few minutes later, he is wearing only pajama bottoms and his white hair is sticking up all over the place.
A smile stretches across my face. He grins back at me and strides over to the kitchen area. Two small gas burners, a tiny sink and a minuscule fridge under the counter. Somehow, he makes it work seamlessly.
I sit up in bed and watch him bring out a frying pan and a carton of eggs. He starts humming a cheerful tune and I’m mesmerized. I was going to jump into the bathroom, but now I just want to watch him.
His movements are graceful and precise. It is like watching a dance. He is scrambling eggs, making toast, boiling the kettle for tea and squeezing oranges by hand. There is no way I could multitask all of that without burning something. Monty is making it look easy.
In no time at all, he has everything ready. I’m just about to stop being a lazy head and finally get out of bed, when he puts everything on a tray and brings it over to me.
Breakfast in bed? For me? This can’t be happening.
I mumble my thanks and take my tray. Monty quickly grabs his own tray and joins me on the bed.
A warm, glowing feeling heats my stomach. I could get used to this. I really, truly could.
But now that Monty has stopped being a delightful distraction, my mood is sinking. All the fear and angst of last night is rushing back.
“Jade tried to open a portal to the fey realm!” I blurt.
I don’t think I said a word last night. I merely sobbed and Monty didn’t ask. He offered me comfort and he didn’t even know why it was needed.
Monty nods sagely at my sudden outburst. Almost as if my news is not at all shocking.
“It wasn’t really him. Something was controlling him. It was awful,” I say. I have to defend my friend. I can’t have Monty thinking badly of him.
Monty turns his head to meet my gaze. His bright blue eyes are kind and full of understanding. I huff out a sigh of relief.
“I thought he was going to kill Ned, so I ran into the stone circle to try to stop him, but it was as if he couldn’t even really see me. Thank heavens Ned was able to glamor him, but now Red and Brodie have taken Jade away to hide him, and my found family is falling apart!”
I’m not making much sense at all, but it feels good to get it off my chest. Unfortunately, I think I’m venting at Monty far more than giving him an explanation for my breakdown. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He is Monty after all. Kind and compassionate could be his middle names.
His hand reaches out and squeezes my knee. My skin tingles even though there are blankets between us.
“Pink,” Monty says softly. “You are so very brave, and I admire that about you, but please take more care of your safety.”
Butterflies take flight in my stomach. “I couldn’t let Jade kill Ned.”
Monty puts his breakfast tray on the side and turns to give me his full attention. His blue eyes hold me captive.
“Your life is precious too,” he says gently, but with so much emotion that I swear I can feel the dazzling brightness of it pour into me.
He cares. Monty really, truly cares.
I cough and start to scramble out of bed. Monty helpfully takes my tray and moves out of my way.
“I need to go check on Ned,” I say, and it is true. He was out cold last night and I’m keen to know if he is okay.
Monty simply nods his understanding, and somehow that fuels my desire to flee. He is too damn nice, and it makes me feel too damn much.
I mumble a farewell, and then I run away
I t’s been days now, and Ned isn’t getting better. He’s getting worse. At first, he woke up, his pale eyelids fluttering weakly, but now he just sleeps. His stillness is oppressive, his face so devoid of life it feels like a ghost haunts the bed instead of him. He is not even breathing. The only reason I know he’s still here is because of my magic. That faint spark of existence, fragile and flickering, deep within Ned’s inert body, is the only thing keeping despair from swallowing me whole.
Sitting here, helpless and silent, is a special kind of torment. I hate it. I hate seeing him like this. Brodie said Ned would be fine, that he’d wake up, feed, and recover. He did wake up, but he refused to feed, and now he’s slipping away. Every hour that passes feels like another weight dropped onto my chest.
The soft creak of the door breaks the silence.
“Is Ned better now?” Lello’s voice is barely a whisper, like he’s afraid to disturb the stillness.
I close my eyes against the pain that question brings. I can’t bear to look at him as I shake my head.
Lello steps into the room, his small frame seeming even smaller in the heavy atmosphere. He perches carefully on the edge of Ned’s bed and gently picks up the vampire’s limp hand, cradling it like it might shatter.
“Carter has gone to find Brodie,” he says, his voice hopeful.
It’s a good idea. Brodie’s healing magic might be the only thing that can save Ned now. But a bitter knot twists in my stomach. Brodie should have been here already. Jade had to be hidden, I know that. He almost opened a portal to the fey realm, and he killed a Council member. It’s chaos. And of course Red, ever the protector, took it upon himself to get Jade to safety. And where Red goes, Brodie isn’t far behind.
I understand it, I really do, but damn it, I wish Brodie were here. We need him. Ned needs him.
A heavy sigh escapes me as I try to think of something, anything, that could help. Everything we’ve tried so far has failed. Getting Ned to feed was a disaster.
Speaking of which, “Did Gray take that poor human back to wherever he found him?”
Lello nods, his blue eyes wide. “He didn’t want to, but Mal made him. Listening to your mate is always a good idea.”
Relief washes over me. That poor bewildered and terrified human looked like he’d seen the gates of hell, and Gray was so confused why we were all aghast.
Lello shifts his gaze back to me, his expression lighting up with sudden realization.
“Oh!” he exclaims, the sound breaking through the gloom. “Ned will listen to Morgan if Morgan tells him to feed!”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. “Morgan and Ned are not mates,” I remind him.
Lello’s lips curl into a defiant pout. “So?”
“So, it won’t work.”
“Yes, it will!” Lello insists, his voice gaining a stubborn edge. “Ned loves Morgan! That’s why he’s too sad to feed, because he still thinks Morgan hates him. If Morgan came here and they made up, Ned would feed!”
His words hang in the air, and for a moment, I don’t respond. There’s a wild logic to what he’s saying, but it’s a fragile hope, strung together by emotion and wishful thinking.
Could it work?
I glance at Ned’s motionless form, my chest tightening. Maybe Lello’s right. Maybe Morgan is the key. Besides, it is not like we have much to lose.
“Come on, then!” I say, springing to my feet. The sharp scrape of the chair against the floor matches the energy surging through me. Taking action, any action, feels infinitely better than sitting around, stewing in useless frustration.
Lello doesn’t need to be told twice. He bounces up, his wide blue eyes sparkling with excitement at the sudden burst of activity, and together we race out to the driveway. The cars we all share sit there, quiet and unassuming, but one of them is about to carry the weight of our hopes.
Lello clambers into the passenger seat. “I can’t drive,” he reminds me brightly, as if that’s a fun fact.
“I know,” I reply, as I start the engine. “You know where Morgan lives. I can drive. It’s perfect teamwork.”
The drive is mercifully short, but it feels like an eternity with Lello buzzing beside me, his nervous energy filling the car. He’s practically out the door before I’ve even turned off the ignition, sprinting up to Morgan’s house like his life depends on it.
By the time I catch up, Lello is already jabbing at the doorbell with the urgency of someone trying to summon a lifeline. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever comes next.
Morgan opens the door. His dark eyes are shadowed with loss, his shoulders heavy with a sadness that seems to permeate the air around him. My heart twinges with sympathy.
Lello doesn’t wait for pleasantries. He launches straight into the story, his words tumbling over each other in a frantic rush. “Jade, the stone circle, Ned..he’s not feeding, he’s fading…”
Morgan’s expression shifts from confusion to alarm. His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like he might barge past us to run to his car.
“Ned needs you,” Lello says, his voice soft but insistent.
Morgan steps forward, then hesitates. He glances over his shoulder, back into the house, his face a mask of conflict. “The kids,” he murmurs.
“I can watch them,” I offer quickly. The words are out before I fully think them through, but there’s no hesitation in my voice. I’m desperate to keep the momentum going, to not let anything derail this fragile chance. “I love kids,” I add, hoping to sound convincing.
Morgan’s dark eyes flick to me, scrutinizing. I can’t blame him. I’m a stranger, standing on his doorstep, asking him to leave his children in my care.
For a moment, the silence stretches too long. Then, with a decisive nod, he steps aside and gestures for me to follow him inside.
The house is cozy, filled with the kind of warmth that comes from a family’s presence. Morgan leads me down a corridor and into a sitting room where three children, impossibly adorable, are sprawled out watching cartoons.
They turn their heads in unison, their wide-eyed curiosity fixed on me.
I force a big, cheerful smile. “Who wants to play dress-up?”
Their reaction is immediate. They leap to their feet with shrieks of delight, bouncing and shouting, “Me! Me! Me!”
Morgan’s sad expression softens. He glances at me, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. That single nod he gives me feels like a benediction, a passing of trust.
As he hurries back to Lello, I watch him go, a flicker of hope stirring in my chest. Morgan is going to help Ned. He’s willing to put aside whatever’s broken between them, and if anyone can get through to Ned, it’s him.
Turning back to the kids, I rub my hands together with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Okay, let’s find some costumes! Princesses, pirates, superheroes, you name it!”
Their laughter rings out, filling the house with a joyful chaos that lifts my spirits.
For the first time in days, a sense of optimism takes root. Today might not be so bad after all.