Ronen #3
I caught her and shoved my will into my eyes, forcing their inadequate bond into the dark hole it crawled out of.
The tension stringing her muscles tight eased as her head dropped back against the stone.
“There she is,” I murmured, grazing my thumb over her lip.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and she inhaled deeply.
“What were you saying, Sam?”
“The dosage for his mood stabilizer was too strong,” he explained, gazing at me pointedly as the lie fell easily off his tongue. “It burned his lungs.”
“Sounds like you need to adjust your draught, Sam,” I said.
His poker face impressed me.
“Seems so. In the meantime, Aspen can go, and Lucille, if you’d come to my lab, please.”
Her face paled, but she nodded.
Did Sam already tell her what he needed?
She trailed after him, and I followed close behind. The moment we stepped through his lab door, saw the needle in his hand, and the countless vials, her body started to shake.
“How much blood do you need, Sam?”
She backed into the door, leaning heavily against it.
Out of all the things she could have an irrational fear of, I never would’ve guessed a little needle.
But this was no simple fear. Something haunted her. Another scar marked her soul, making her lungs work overtime.
What I wanted to know was who had marked it and whether they still lived.
A conversation for another time.
“Enough to see if your blood is the binder for the new strain and to experiment with,” Sam answered.
She shook out her hands and nodded, psyching herself up.
“Heavenly Shit. I know we need this for the infection. I know.”
“I’ll be fast,” Sam assured, approaching.
The hellion tensed, and my shadows shot out, nicking Sam’s neck and taking his blood. He stopped in his tracks, fully aware of what I’d do if he came any closer.
“Can we do it with a knife?” she asked.
Sam lifted a brow, appearing highly insulted that she’d even ask.
I understood her, but I had a better solution.
I stepped closer. “Would you like me to knock you out?”
“Yes,” she said on a relieved sigh.
Eagerly, my shadows dove into her body, and she slumped into my arms. I hefted her up, cradling her as I took a seat at one of Sam’s tables.
He gestured toward her arm. “May I?”
I gave him a curt nod.
He inserted the needle, and her face tightened. But as the feeling of my awe for her grew, her tension eased, and she burrowed into me.
The weight of Hell’s deterioration, my animosity toward the pet, my concerns about Lucifer, the demons, Alexei’s injuries—it all fell away.
She may be the pet’s spark, but damn me to Heaven if she wasn’t my fuel.
Everything about her showed me a life worth wanting.
Because I did.
I wanted everything with her.
To help her through her lows, celebrate her successes, cherish her smiles, worship her lips, challenge her, and guide her through her stubbornness, to just breathe her in every day and know she was mine—only mine.
And I wasn’t sure how, after wanting and feeling this utter awe of being with her, I could ever give her up to him.
“Ronen.” Sam shook my shoulder. “Did you hear me?”
I sighed.
“No.”
“What happened this morning?”
Where the hell did I start?
Sam’s hand flashed yellow, healing the tiny puncture on Lucille’s arm.
“You’re right about their blood being poisonous. It corrupted the land where we fought them in the Eternal Forest. I found a lightless tree.”
A vial slipped from Sam’s hands.
I caught it before it shattered on the floor, jostling Lucille’s body.
“Like Cordyceps,” Sam breathed with both horror and intrigue.
At my blank expression, he elaborated.
“It’s a parasitic fungus that infects and consumes the host’s tissues, then replaces them with its own to further propagate.”
“That’s horrifying,” the hellion muttered, shifting in my arms but not leaving them.
I wouldn’t admit what that choice did to me.
“Yes. It could also explain why Hell’s melting,” Sam said.
“That’s not all of it either,” I told them, now that the hellion was awake. “You’re also right about Lucille’s blood binding the second strain, Sam.”
“Why?”
Lucille straightened, her ass digging into my groin.
Parasitic demon fungus talk or not, I wasn’t immune to her body.
I adjusted her off my erection.
“I was attacked by Ridigar this morning. He has transitioned into a demon willingly.”
Lucille jerked to her feet.
“That’s what your anxiety meant this morning? You were attacked?” She shot me a glare. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I stood.
“You don’t think that’s something I’d want to—”
I grabbed her face and gently pressed a kiss to her head.
“I’m fine. I’m telling you now.”
Like chocolate in a hot pot, she melted.
Figured that’d work after how it affected her last night.
“He turned because he claimed he’d be ruling Hell soon. And he admitted this as he formed ice in his hand.”
“How is that possible?” she asked, her gaze darting to Sam.
“My only guess is they figured out a way to tap into it through blood magic.”
“And that still begs the question of who they are.”
I shook my head.
“Lilith is dead. How many more blood-witches are there?”
No one had an answer, but the hellion’s brow furrowed, and her gaze turned distant.