Chapter 23 Antivenom
ANTIVENOM
EZRA
When I woke up today, I hadn’t expected to end the day banishing lesser infernals and sealing a one-way rift I couldn’t manipulate to return home.
Had Cyn not insisted on tracking the human’s phone, and Zeke hadn’t demanded we check on her when she didn’t reply to his texts, the horde would have torn her apart.
I watched her exit the bathroom from my position against her bedroom wall.
Damp strands that had fallen from her bun clung to her neck, sweat beading on her forehead. Her tan skin carried a sickly pallor, and her stormy eyes appeared dull and glassy.
My lips thinned at the sight of her loose pajama pants and baggy T-shirt concealing her form. I couldn’t explain my aversion, but I preferred the skirt she wore to the shapeless outfit.
“You need shorts so I can clean the wound,” Ash said, taking her hand and drawing her to stand before him as he sat on the edge of the bed.
She crossed an arm over her chest, gripping her upper arm with her free hand. “I already washed it when I showered.”
“I still want to check,” he said. “Humor me?”
She huffed, but I sensed she wasn’t upset.
“Fine.” She sat back against the headboard, stretched her legs, and rolled up a pant leg, exposing the angry lashes across her thigh.
Her willingness to concede to Ash surprised me; she was usually stubborn when Cyn or I confronted her.
Zeke rounded the bed and flopped onto his side next to her.
“Oh, go ahead and make yourself at home,” she said, rolling her eyes at his grin.
Cyn lingered in the doorway, his body taut with restless energy.
Her blood was no longer a problem, but the venom coursing through her veins still put her at risk. I doubted gonthek venom posed a fatal risk to humans, but I refused to test the theory on her.
We needed her alive if her blood bound us to this world.
Still, I questioned why a horde of lesser infernals targeted a human in such overwhelming numbers. Rogue infernal attacks on humans weren’t uncommon, and we often stopped them before major casualties—but never on this scale.
Our history books only recorded major breaches in the veil, always followed by calamities for humankind. I’d witnessed nothing of that magnitude firsthand.
Had our presence in her life marked her in some way?
She laughed at something Zeke said, smacking Ash’s hand away when he pressed too close to her wound.
It struck me as odd how comfortable she acted with the two of them and how at ease they acted with her. Even Cyn tempered his hostility in favor of concern for the human’s well-being.
I flexed my fingers at my side before tucking my hand into the pocket of my slacks.
Father always said curiosity could kill a man. Unfortunately, like my brothers, I felt a deepening curiosity toward the human who summoned us.
I didn’t know how she’d come to possess a tome from Elyrdin, but the symbol on the cover was unmistakable.
Ash wanted me to believe the human was a mere victim of circumstance. But after witnessing lesser infernals attack her, and given her family’s extensive history with our kind, I wondered if even she knew the truth of her story.
Though she professed to despise liars, her own words could be just as deceptive if she sought to protect herself from the council’s wrath. I needed to assess the threat she posed to us before it was too late.
“What?” Her eyes flew wide as she sat upright. “Why him?”
I tilted my head, realizing I’d missed something important. Something that frightened her.
“Back in Elyrdin, we have gonthek antivenom, but we can’t access it right now,” Ash said, and I finally understood. “Ezra is the only one with blood powerful enough to act as an antivenom. It’s the only way.”
She scrambled to push her pant leg down, hiding her wound. “What happens if we leave it alone?”
“Your fever will grow until you’re delirious,” I said, drawing her attention from Ash.
I’d never admit it, but I enjoyed how quickly her focus snapped to me whenever she heard my voice. A strange feeling to have.
“From there, hallucinations set in.” I took a step toward the bed, and her breath hitched.
“Then, when you’re on the brink of insanity, you will spend the next day or two writhing in an agony that will make you pray for death.
” I stood at the foot of the bed, my stare locked on hers. “That is, if you don’t die first.”
“Wait.” She looked at Ash. “You said I won’t die.”
“You’re patient zero,” I said, demanding her attention with only the tone of my voice. I could get used to this. “None of us know the effects of gonthek venom on a human.”
Her hands twisted in the covers at her sides as her gaze darted between Zeke and Ash. “I… I can’t drink someone’s blood.” She looked up at me.
My chest tightened at the vulnerability clouding her eyes. I narrowed my gaze in response to the uncomfortable feeling.
She looked down at her lap, mumbling, “How much?”
“What?” Zeke leaned closer to hear her better.
She took a shaky breath, looking at him. “How much do I have to drink?”
Ash glanced over his shoulder at me.
We both knew it varied from person to person. Body weight dictated the dosage of gonthek antivenom in Shyrlivi, but for a human? Impossible to know. Even then, this was my blood, not antivenom.
Only in dire circumstances would royal blood be required. My brothers’ blood might suffice, but we couldn’t risk it. My blood offered the greatest chance of success, though still short of pure antivenom.
“You drink until I feel it leave you,” I said, crossing my arms.
“What does that mean?”
Cyn stormed out; Ash and Zeke avoided her gaze.
“What?” Her chest rose and fell faster, prey instincts kicking in. “What does that mean?”
“I can taste when your blood is clean.”
I tried to keep my face impassive, a skill I spent a lifetime perfecting to avoid Father’s wrath. We needed to purge the venom before it did irreversible damage. Scaring her proved counterintuitive. She needed to know the requirements without our dancing around the issue.
“Taste,” she deadpanned. “You’re saying you have to, what? Prick my finger and taste it while I drink your blood?”
“While I might detect the venom in such a minuscule amount, it isn’t practical. Nor is a cut on your hand.”
Ash took her hand in his. “He needs fresh blood flow from the vein.”
“What the hell? You’re gonna suck the venom out? Then it’ll hurt you.” She shook her head, then scoffed. “This isn’t a snake bite. It’s not a bite at all.”
I refrained from telling her she shouldn’t suck venom from a snake bite if she wanted to keep her limb, ignoring the strange sensation that passed through me at her concern.
“He can’t do that,” Zeke said. “His blood will clean yours, and he’ll be able to taste when it happens.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The magic in my blood entering your body will seek every trace of gonthek venom and destroy it. I won’t ingest the venom.”
My brothers, like many others, thought it was simply a matter of blood flow, but the Kilnejar bloodline’s secret was a mutual exchange. My great grandfather discovered our ability to eradicate foreign blights through shared lifeblood.
That same exchange allowed a Kilnejar’s Nyrith to heal their minor ailments, keeping our bloodline strong for those who’d found their mate.
“No. Absolutely not.” She narrowed her eyes, swiping the wet strands of hair plastered to her forehead from her face. “You might look like a vampire, but I am not letting you feed on me like one.”
Zeke snorted. “Vampire?”
“What? You don’t see it?” She waved a trembling hand.
I knew it wouldn’t be long before the delirium set in—her shirt was already damp from sweat.
“Look at him!” She gasped for air with the effort of the declaration.
Zeke stared at me, angling his head.
I glanced at him, shaking my head. “This is ridiculous.”
Ash chuckled. “What about him makes you think, ‘vampire’?”
“He’s pale, tall, with jet black hair, a lean waist, eyes that…” She shivered. “Look at him!” Her breathing steadied with the second declaration, but I knew she wasn’t well. “He’s even dressed like a modern-day vampire that runs a nightclub or something.”
I wondered what she’d left unsaid about my eyes.
Zeke fell back onto the pillow, laughing. “Nightclub owner?” He looked at me. “Yeah, kind of.”
I ground my teeth together. Excuse me for having a sense of decent fashion.
“It’s more than that, though,” she murmured, plucking the hem of her baggy shirt. “He acts like a vampire.”
My brows rose. Once again, the nervous cadence crept back into her voice.
Ash handed her the glass of water from her nightstand when she wiped sweat from her brow. “How do vampires act?”
Zeke shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve only seen them in movies, so I don’t know how they act, either.”
“Vampires aren’t actually real,” Ash said, chuckling.
She took a long drink, passing the glass back to him. “Like a pred…a…tor,” she mumbled, words slurred and broken before she slumped into Zeke’s waiting arms.
I needed to act now.
“Everyone out,” I barked.
“What?” Zeke looked down at her, panicked. “No way.”
“We don’t have time to argue,” Ash said, standing. He turned to me. “Are you good? Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine. Take him and shut the door on your way out. I can’t have Cyn coming in here when he scents her fresh blood. Guard the stairwell.”
When they left the room, I approached the side of the human’s bed.
Little did she know, her assessment of me as a predator was perfect. My singular purpose was to protect Elyrdin, and that involved hunting and eradicating all threats to our people. If that included her, then so be it.
I lifted her into my arms, and she sagged against my chest with a pained groan as I turned toward the bathroom. The dampness of her clothes and the sweat on her skin intensified her sweet scent. I’d never met a human with such a strong natural perfume.
When her brows furrowed, her face twisting in pain, I knew I needed to act.