Chapter 33
Twenty-four hours later, Emmy woke slowly. No urgent need to sprint to the bathroom, no nausea clawing up her gut. Just the gentle pull of consciousness, the soft glow of light coming in under the door, and another soft glow coming from behind her.
She rolled over and found Zander reclined on a wedge beside her, tablet in hand, reading something that made his brow furrow in concentration. He’d changed into soft charcoal joggers and a black thermal henley, the kind of casual she’d never seen him wear before.
“Hey,” she said, her voice still rough, but stronger than the day before.
His gaze lifted immediately, those blue eyes finding hers. “Hey yourself. How do you feel?”
Emmy breathed in and scanned her body. Fever still there, but a gentle boil rather than a raging one. Headache mostly gone, just a faint pressure behind her eyes. Body aches significantly better but still pretty bad.
“Better. Lots better.” She sat up carefully, testing her strength, and was pleased when the room didn’t spin. “Where’s Spence?”
“Sleeping. I sent him to the sofa about four hours ago.” Zander set the tablet aside. “You’ve been asleep nearly six hours. Longest stretch yet.”
“Really?” Emmy blinked. Six hours without a bathroom trip was phenomenal. “Wow.”
“Your temperature is down nearly three degrees. Still elevated, but improving.” Zander shifted on the wedge, angling toward her. “Are you hungry? The nurse said you might be ready for toast with your broth.”
Emmy’s stomach didn’t revolt at the idea, which was progress. “Yeah. Toast sounds … actually good.”
He was quiet a second before saying, “I telepathed the kitchen. They’ll send some down with fresh broth. Do you want to use the bathroom while we wait?”
“Yeah, but I’m good. I can walk by myself now.”
“Yes, Spence has been giving me regular updates. I’ll be here if you need me, but he assures me you’re stable for the short distance.”
She climbed out of bed, grabbed her phone, testing her legs, and was gratified when they held steady. The walk to the bathroom felt longer than eight feet, but she made it without assistance and was happy to pee behind a closed door.
She texted Felix to let him know she was awake and alive. He was worried about her, but didn’t want to risk texting her when she was asleep, so she’d agreed to let him know when she was up.
Her shower bin was on the vanity, so she brushed her teeth, but she had to finger-comb her hair into a ponytail, since her brush wasn’t in the bin.
When she emerged, her phone dinged. It was Felix, and she stopped to text him back. “I’m feeling nearly human. Zander ordered toast for me. I’m going to talk to him while I eat.”
When she looked up, Zander was watching her with a raised brow.
“Felix worries. I agreed to text him when I’m awake, to keep him updated and let him know I’m still alive.”
“Spence says the two of you are…” He smiled. “Friends who fuck?”
She sat on the side of the bed and spun around to pull her feet up and into it.
“Yes. He’s a close friend, but I’m not in love with him, and thankfully, he isn’t in love with me, either.”
He nodded to the bottle of electrolyte water. “Drink a few sips, please. We need to try to get you hydrated.”
Emmy took a half-dozen small sips, felt it settle mostly okay, and then took another half-dozen before capping it and climbing back into bed.
Zander had queued up Buffy on the television mounted to the wall.
“Oh, wow. Spence must’ve turned it off shortly after I fell asleep,” she noted when she saw she hadn’t missed much.
“Yes, I gave him some work to do on the tablet earlier, and told him it could wait until you slept. He really is my right arm for some things.” He smiled and gave a small shrug.
“I sometimes forget just how much he handles until I send him off on another job. He’s allowed to pull in as much help as he needs, and he does, but he somehow still manages to stay on top of even what he’s delegated. ”
Zander made room on the wedge, and the two watched Buffy without talking until Emmy said, “Yay! Spike!” when the platinum-haired vampire swaggered onto screen, all dangerous charisma and barely controlled violence. Emmy couldn’t help her huge smile despite her exhaustion.
“You’re a fan of the bad boys?” Zander asked. “I suppose that contributed to you getting kicked out of so many schools.”
“On screen,” Emmy clarified. “In real life, they’re exhausting.” She glanced at him. “Spence and I talked about this a little. Bad boys are fun to fuck, but I don’t want one as a partner. Too much drama, too many bad decisions.”
“What do you want in a partner?”
The question landed heavier than it should have, and Emmy took her time answering, watching Spike threaten the Anointed One on screen.
“Someone who makes good decisions. Someone with their shit together.” She paused.
“But a little bit of bad is sexy. Not bad like ‘I’m going to burn down your life,’ but bad like…
” She gestured at the screen. “Like they have an edge. Like they’re dangerous when they need to be, but choose not to be most of the time. ”
Zander was quiet for a long moment, and when Emmy looked at him, she found him studying her face with an intensity that made her breath catch.
“That’s very specific,” he said finally.
“I’ve had a lot of time and experience to clearly list all the things I don’t want.” Emmy’s mouth quirked. “The list of what I do want is shorter but clearer.”
A knock at the door interrupted them, and Zander retrieved a tray from security — toast with a bowl of steaming chicken broth that smelled like heaven.
He settled the tray over Emmy’s lap, watching as she lifted the toast with barely shaking hands. The first bite was careful, tentative. She waited about twenty seconds, and when her stomach accepted it without complaint, she took another bite.
“Good?” Zander asked.
“Never did I think dry toast would ever taste so good.”
Emmy took another bite, then a spoonful of broth, marveling at how something so simple could taste so perfect. “I’m never taking food for granted again.”
Zander’s mouth curved into a small smile, and he reached out, slow enough she could pull away if she wanted — and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek, cool vampire touch against her fever-warm skin, and Emmy found herself leaning into it without thinking.
“You’re beautiful like this,” Zander said quietly.
Emmy snort-laughed. “I look like death warmed over.”
“You look alive. Fighting. Strong.” His thumb traced her cheekbone. “You look like exactly who you are.”
Emmy’s heart skipped and then sped, and she had to look away before she said something stupid. On screen, Spike was pontificating about chaos and killing, and Emmy focused on eating instead of the way Zander’s touch made her want things she was afraid to name.
She managed half the toast and most of the broth before exhaustion pulled at her again. Zander took the tray away, set it aside, and when he returned to the bed, he brought a hairbrush.
“May I?” he asked.
Emmy nodded, not trusting her voice, and turned so her back was to him.
Zander’s hands were gentle, careful, working through the tangles with patient precision. Emmy’s eyes drifted closed, the sensation soothing in a way she hadn’t expected. When he finished, he gathered her hair and began braiding it with practiced efficiency.
“Not the first time you’ve done that,” Emmy noted.
“Believe it or not, I first learned it as a human, braiding horse tails. It cut down on grooming time.”
“You fixed my braids a few times when I was little,” Emmy said, the memories snapping back all at once. “I think maybe the first time you found me in the cave. God I can’t have been more than three or four the first time I snuck out.”
“One would think a security expert would be able to keep his small children in the house,” Zander said. “And yes, I tried to make you as presentable as I could before your mother saw you.”
“Thanks for that. And you know, now that I know more about who you really are, it’s kind of adorable, this uber-powerful Master Vampire braiding a preschooler’s hair.”
He chuckled. “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.” But there was warmth in his voice, and when he finished the braid, he secured it with a tie from the nightstand and turned her to face him.
They were close now, closer than they’d been in months, and Emmy could see every fleck of color in those impossibly blue eyes.
The silence stretched between them, an electric charge that made her pulse quicken.
“You liked me when I was little. What did I do to make you dislike me as an adult?” The words burst out before she could stop them.
Zander went very still. “I don’t—”
“Bullshit.” Before, she’d have probably let him convince her she was wrong, but she’d almost died, and she was done pretending things didn’t hurt.
“You’ve avoided me for months. You act like being in the same room with me is some kind of punishment.
I’ve followed every rule, done everything asked of me, kept my grades up, and you still treat me like I’m…
” She sighed. “An obligation you can’t wait to be rid of. ”
“Emerald—”
“I get that I was a brat who completely blew a good thing and got her trust fund revoked. I do. But I’ve tried.
I worked so hard to prove I’m not that person anymore, and you wouldn’t even look at me.
” She shook her head, voice cracking despite her best efforts to keep it steady.
“And I get that you’re being nice now because I almost died, but that can’t last, so either tell me what I did wrong, or tell me you just don’t like me so I can stop trying to—”
“I’ve been attracted to you since you arrived in Anchorage.” The words came out flat, emotionless, like he was confessing to a crime. “I avoided you because you are my best friend’s daughter, and one does not fuck their best friend’s daughter.”
Emmy’s brain short-circuited. “What?”