Chapter 27
The door opened, and Emmy recognized Zander’s footsteps without having to look up, but when she did, his expression was like a storm cloud.
“Let’s get you outside so you can change.”
She shook her head. “There are only three things that, to my knowledge, can make me sick, and one of them will kill me if I try to change.”
And might kill her even if she remained human, if she’d gotten enough of it, but she didn’t mention that part.
Her bowels twisted again, and emptied more disgusting liquid shit into the toilet. Emmy closed her eyes and felt her face go red-hot, but didn’t bother ordering Zander to leave. He’d do whatever he damned well pleased.
Thankfully, after that bout, she felt as if there was nothing left to puke up or shit out, and she said, “I think maybe I can shower, and if that works out okay…” she shook her head. “Fuck, I don’t know if I want to try to go back to our room and be that far from the toilet.”
“Let’s start with a shower, and then we’ll discuss logistics of where to put you,” Zander said.
“I’ll help her,” Rhea told him when he stepped closer, and thankfully, he nodded and stopped.
Rhea stripped her clothes off, helped Emmy up, and then physically supported her in the shower while Emmy got her feet, legs, and private parts clean with soap and the handheld showerhead.
As soon as the water was off, before Emmy could even consider drying off, Zander was there with a towel, wrapping it around her with clinical efficiency before she could protest.
“I can—” Emmy started, but her knees nearly buckled when Rhea stepped away.
Zander caught her, one arm sliding under her legs, the other around her back, cradling her to his chest. “No, you can’t.”
“Put me down.” Her voice came out weaker than she intended, and she hated being vulnerable in front of him. “I can walk.”
“Maybe for a few steps, but we’re going farther than that.”
Emmy wanted to fight, wanted to summon the strength to push out of his arms, but all she could do was curl into his chest, shaking.
Zander stepped into the hallway, and Emmy pressed her face against his shoulder, mortified. “Everyone’s going to see—”
“Everyone’s dealing with their own sick.” His voice softened. “And I’ll move fast enough they won’t get a good look.”
He wasn’t lying. The world blurred as he moved through the corridors at vampire speed. Emmy’s stomach protested the motion, and she squeezed her eyes shut and focused on not puking on him.
When they hit the spiral staircase, Zander went into the air and then down, arrowing past floor after floor, descending into the deepest level, to his private suite.
“No,” she told him. “This isn’t … no. I need my room. My people. I can’t be all the way down here.”
“Your bed is at least a hundred steps to a toilet. I can put you in a bed fifteen steps away from one.” He sighed. “Please don’t fight me on this. I need to be certain you’re safe, and I need Spencer looking after you when I can’t be here.”
He nodded to a security guard, held his palm to a scanner, and the door opened automatically.
The sitting room they entered was masculine and spare, all dark wood and stone, but he didn’t pause, carrying her straight through to the bedroom.
The bed was massive, clearly custom-made, with black sheets. Zander set her down on the edge with surprising gentleness, keeping one hand on her shoulder until he was certain she wouldn’t topple over.
“Bathroom’s there.” He pointed to a door less than eight feet away. “You need to go now?”
Emmy shook her head, though she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. Her body felt like it might betray her at any second.
Zander pulled back the covers. “In.”
“I need to dry my hair, I’m—”
“I’ll get you a towel for your hair, and Spence will dry it for you when he gets here. Sit.”
Emmy was too exhausted to argue. She sat, leaned over to wrap her hair in the towel when he handed it to her, and then crawled under the covers and relaxed on luxurious sheets that probably had a thread count in the thousands.
He stepped back, looking at her with those impossibly blue eyes, and for a moment something flickered in his expression — concern, maybe, or something deeper — but then it was gone, shuttered behind vampire control.
Before Emmy could respond, a soft knock came at the door, and Spence entered carrying what looked like an entire medical supply kit. He took one look at Emmy curled in the bed he shared with Zander and didn’t blink.
“Hey, you,” Spence said, his voice warm and gentle as he set his supplies on a nightstand. “I have ice chips you can hold in your mouth, and some mouthwash if you want to rinse your mouth. We’ll wait an hour before we try a few sips of broth.”
Emmy sighed. “I just helped nurse Felix and Toby through this, so I understand the protocols, but fuck, it looks different from this side.”
Zander stepped to Spence’s side and rubbed his back. “You’re in good hands with Spencer. A guard will remain stationed outside the door, and my boy can reach me at a moment’s notice with telepathy. Do you need anything from your room?”
“My phone and a shirt would be great, and my toothbrush. Maybe just bring my whole shower bin? Felix will know what shirt and sweatpants to send.”
Spence climbed into the bed and sat with his legs crossed, a cup of ice in one hand, a spoon in the other.
“Just hold it in your mouth and let it melt,” he told her, the spoon with a few small chips near her mouth.
Emmy accepted it, the cold a shock at first, and yet, it was soothing. She let it melt slowly, and then accepted another few pieces.
They repeated the process several times before Emmy realized Zander had returned, watching from near the door, his expression unreadable.
He stepped into the room with her shower bin and a few items of clothing. “I’ll put your shower things in the bathroom,” he said as he settled her phone on the nightstand.
“Thank you,” Emmy said. “Both of you. I hate having to be taken care of, but I appreciate that you’re doing it.”
Zander stepped out of the bathroom and told her, “There’s a bucket in there, in case you need to be sick while sitting on the toilet again.
Don’t worry if you make a mess, anything you do can be cleaned, but I figure you’ll be more comfortable using the bucket.
” He paused a second, looking her over. “While you’re between bouts, talk to me about what you know about the poisons that can hurt you. ”
“Dad never told me what they are, just that if I get sick, I shouldn’t change. Also, if I see blood in my stool, or if I puke blood, to call him or mom immediately.” She sighed. “Technically, I’m supposed to if I get sick in any way, but…”
“Understood. I told your father he wouldn’t hear from me until mid-February. If it looks like you’re getting better, I’ll keep to that. I’ve had all food items you ate sent to the lab. What should I tell them to look for?”
Emmy’s head throbbed and her insides roiled, but she forced her mind to grind through the fog. She didn’t know the exact compounds, but her assumption was that this was a recipe, something she wasn’t likely to stumble upon, since her father hadn’t told her what to avoid.
“It’ll be a mix, some kind of recipe to target a reptile’s metabolism or nerve system, probably.
Off the top of my head, perhaps a synthetic conotoxin or botulinum derivative, possibly a cholinesterase inhibitor, like an organophosphate, to flood acetylcholine and trigger the vomiting, diarrhea.
And maybe a heavy metal chelate, lead or mercury, to disrupt sodium-potassium pumps.
Check for synergistic effects, cooked into the food.
” Her breath hitched, nausea surging, but she held his gaze.
“Start with the reindeer stew, since just thinking about it nearly makes me need to run to the bathroom again.”
“I recommend organizing an outdoor hunt, to get them all out of their rooms,” Spence said.
“Already done,” Zander told him, and then looked at Emmy. “Spencer will notify me if you get worse. I’ll contact your parents if you think they can help, but my take on it is that the poison just needs to work its way out of your system.”
“My dad will go into big-time-security-asshole-mode to figure out what happened, and you can’t afford that politically.”
Zander shook his head. “That’s not any part of my reasoning. Aaron and I will work together to handle the politics if I bring him in, this isn’t about that, it’s about what you need. Do you want him here? Do you feel he can help if we contact him?”
She shook her head. “Even if it’s going to kill me, as far as I know, there’s no way to stop it. If it gets that bad, I’ll want to talk to them before I die, but let’s hope my system can fight it and expel it.”
And that meant she needed to do all the puking and shitting she could, so she stopped trying to hold it down, and ran for the bathroom.
She puked into the toilet this time, and then rinsed her mouth with water before using the mouthwash Spence offered.
“Thanks. The more I can puke back up, the less poison will get into my system.”
“I’ll wash the bucket out, and I’ll have a smaller one brought that we can keep in the bedroom, so you won’t have to run to the bathroom.”
Zander was still in the bedroom when they returned, and Spence told him, “You have work to do, finding the bastards who did this. I’ve got her.”
Zander hesitated and Emmy could feel the weight of his presence — and the way he didn’t want to leave. But then he nodded, and he was gone.
The door closed behind him, and the room felt both emptier and somehow easier to breathe in.
“He’s worried about you,” Spence said quietly, helping her back into bed. “He’s just not good at showing it.”
“He’s good at avoiding me,” Emmy muttered.
Spence’s mouth curved into a smile. “Not anymore. He put you in our bed.”
Right. She’d already figured that out, but having it verified made it even heavier.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
Spence chuckled and handed her shirt to her, which she immediately put on.
“Get comfortable, and I’ll give you a foot massage to help relax you.
Go ahead and text Rhea and Felix to let them know you’re okay.
No pictures from the bedroom, so you can’t video chat with them from here, or send them selfies.
We have an office with a blank wall behind the chair.
Once you’re up to sitting in a chair, you can video chat with them from there. ”
Spence lifted the blanket and sheets away from her feet, and his wolf-warm hands wrapped around her left foot, thumbs pressing into her arch with firm, steady pressure.
The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. Emmy’s entire body had been clenched tight with pain, nausea, and humiliation, and it began to soften. Spence worked methodically, finding knots she didn’t know existed, applying pressure that bordered on painful but somehow released tension.
“You’ve been taking care of everyone else since the mammal poisoning,” Spence said, his voice low and soothing, still working her foot. “Running yourself ragged, making sure Felix, Toby, and Maren had what they needed, but you didn’t rest. Now it’s time to let us take care of you.”
“I’m fine,” Emmy said automatically, even though it was obviously a lie.
“You’re not fine. You’re sick, scared, and in pain.” Spence moved to her other foot, his touch just as sure. “And that’s okay. You’re allowed to be all of those things.”
Emmy felt her eyes prickling with tears again, and she blinked them back furiously. “I don’t want to be weak in front of him.”
“Being vulnerable isn’t the same as being weak.
” Spence’s hands stilled for a moment, and he met her gaze.
“Emmy, he carried you down here himself. Wouldn’t let anyone else touch you.
That’s not the action of someone who thinks you’re weak.
He understands your strength, and he helped make sure no one else saw you while you’re vulnerable because of the poison. ”
“He doesn’t even look at me most of the time,” Emmy said, and fuck, she sounded pathetic. “He’s been avoiding me for months.”
“I know.” Spence resumed the massage, working up to her calf with gentle but firm strokes. “But he’s not avoiding you now. He brought you to the safest place in the silo — his own suite.”
Emmy closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the mattress, into the careful ministrations of Spence’s hands, into the feeling of being cared for. The cramps were still there, a dull ache in her gut, but the touch helped. The ice had helped. Being here helped, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Spence’s hand squeezed her ankle gently. “Anytime. Now close your eyes and try to rest. I’ll be right here if you need anything. Bathroom, more ice, someone to hold your hair back — whatever you need.”
Her mind wandered all over the place, through what the poison might be doing to her system, to how the poison might’ve been put into the stew, and then to Zander.
It seemed Spence might be in the mood to answer questions, so she asked, “Why does he care now? After months of pretending I don’t exist? ”
Spence was quiet for a long moment, his hands still working her muscles with practiced care. “I think he’s always cared, but…” He focused on a tight muscle a few dozen seconds. “But seeing you sick, seeing you hurt … Sometimes fear makes us stupid, and sometimes crisis makes us brave.”
Emmy didn’t have an answer to that. She just lay there, letting Spence’s touch ground her.