Chapter 3 #2
It was odd, Sexton not even having the energy to poke at Davin.
The valet frowned at the look of him, and after Davin laid him across the back seat and closed the door on him, gingerly asked, “He looks rough. Is he—have you ever talked to him about eating disorders? Not that it’s my business or anything. ”
Davin frowned and looked down at the car door, as though considering whether my cousin was starving himself.
“He’ll be all right,” I promised. “I know it looks bad, but he was trying to score a part. Now that that’s over, he’ll go back to normal.”
The valet immediately seemed to understand that, nodding and patting the top of the car. “It’s rough to catch that break, man. Can’t kill yourself for a role.”
It was only after we got into the car and pulled away from the curb that Davin glanced my way. “Score a part?”
“Acting,” I explained. “It’s probably a Southern California thing.
I implied he wasn’t eating because he was an actor trying to get a role.
Local vampires do it sometimes when they get caught not eating as much as people think they should.
” Admittedly, I was generalizing, and I’d only ever seen my mother do it one time when I was a kid, but still.
I had precedent, and it had worked, hadn’t it?
Davin seemed to accept it too, nodding and glancing over his shoulder at Sexton before looking back to the road. “He does look starved.”
I half expected Sexton to complain from the backseat, but when I turned to look at him, he was fast asleep. At least, I thought . . . Reaching back, I pressed my fingers to his neck again. Yes, just asleep.
“I think . . . I think he’s been drained. Like he was worried about from the start. Someone took all of his energy.”
The car was silent for a moment as we drove, Davin headed back in the general direction of the office. Or his apartment, though I doubted he intended to take my cousin there.
“But it’s not permanent.” He said the words, but his tone was a little questioning. It was understandable, because Sexton really looked like death warmed over.
“No, it’s not. It’s just like if he’d been healed from a major illness.
He’s completely drained of all resources.
He needs time to sleep and eat. Weeks, probably.
” I glanced back again at my cousin’s hollowed cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes.
“It’s probably a surprise it hasn’t caught on as a horrible new diet fad.
Make yourself so sick you need healing to consume all the fat stores you have in your body. ”
“Get stabbed, like you did.” Davin waved at the window. “Can’t convince me people wouldn’t stab themselves in order to be thinner, though. Probably just too dear, since body mages are so rare.”
Expensive, he meant, which was fair. Seeing a body mage would cost thousands of dollars, easily.
Davin sighed and shook his head. “Given how much you eat and still look like you do, it must be a lot of energy, too. What do you think they’re using it for?”
Another valid point, but one I didn’t have a single clue about.
Well, probably not. “Maybe they’re a mage, like Sexton?
The only things I’ve ever used up a lot of energy on at once are healing and shifting into an actual dragon, and supposedly, other dragons can’t do that one.
So there’s not that much else to use it for.
Maybe they’re really sick and trying to heal? ”
He leaned his head back and forth, like he was weighing the options, but finally shrugged.
“Could be. You’re right, though. We don’t know enough.
I didn’t catch scent of anything that stood out but your cousin in that alley, so whoever it was covered their tracks well.
Or possibly, they were only there for a second, so it didn’t leave much trace. ”
Now that was interesting. Possible they didn’t stay long, but even so, if they smelled at all unusual, it should have stood out to Davin. He might not know how to parse scents, but he was damn good at picking up on them, especially when they were strong or unusual, and dragons seemed to be unusual.
He took one hand off the wheel long enough to poke his thumb in Sexton’s direction. “Now then. Where are we taking him? The office? Seems to me he’ll whine about being forced to sleep on something so lowly as your couch.”
It was a valid point, for sure. I didn’t usually complain about sleeping on my ratty old sofa much, but I’d made that choice for myself. Sexton had not. Sexton . . . was kind of rich and spoiled.
“My mother’s house?” I asked, then thought better of it and shook my head. “No, she’ll still be mad at him for trying to buy me from Mary a few months ago.”
Stopped at a red light, Davin turned to stare at me like I was a camera on a reality TV show.
“What?”
But he didn’t answer, just sighed and shook his head. Then his eyes narrowed as though in serious thought. “Call Blair. We’ll take him to your island.”
The island.
My island.
Ugh.
Still struggling to deal with that, for sure.
Apparently it wasn’t a piece of land owned by the government, but a weird sort of almost . . . nation of its own, so at least I didn’t owe millions of dollars in back taxes, but still, it was weird that I owned an island.
On the other hand, it wasn’t a bad idea in this case.
I could get Blair to take Sexton out to the island with a ton of food, and he could take his time recovering in peace and quiet, without danger of being ambushed on any street corner by whoever had already attacked him.
I nodded to Davin, pulled out my phone, and started dialing.