CHAPTER 20 RAGNOR
CHAPTER 20
RAGNOR
The infirmary was dark when Ragnor stepped inside late at night. The nurse in charge, Marcello, was sleeping in his station, probably passed out in exhaustion. And the reason for said exhaustion was lying awake in the only occupied bed in the room.
Silently, Ragnor took a seat next to the patient. Never before had he visited the infirmary so frequently, and never because his most senior Lieutenant, Magnus, had come back from a mission so close to death, it was a miracle he survived.
Ragnor stared at his oldest League member and longtime friend, feeling as though he was living in a parallel universe of some sort. “How are you doing?” he asked quietly, knowing the question was redundant.
Magnus was the type of man who made everyone who saw him do a double take. Ragnor often heard women refer to him as the most beautiful man alive, and from a clinical point of view, Ragnor understood why. With golden hair and eyes, bronze skin, and a tall athletic form, he was often referred to as either Apollo, the god of sun and light, or Eros, the god of love and desire.
But right now, Magnus looked anything but a god. It was as if someone sucked the life out of him, with his body losing all its former glory and looking pale, thin, and frail. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes were bloodshot, and his lips had a faint blue tint to them that shouldn’t have been there. Ugly spots covered the rest of his graying skin, and his hair, once as gold as the sun, had strands of wispy white within it.
This was why Lifeblood was so important to vampires. It wasn’t just the essence that allowed vampires to be what they were, but it was also in charge of their health and vitality. Without Lifeblood, a vampire wouldn’t just die but would slowly turn into ashes.
Ragnor never wished such a fate on anyone, which was why, as he’d told Aileen before, he would never have blood slaves. But the real mystery here was that Magnus wasn’t a Common, who had only enough Lifeblood to maintain their vampirehood. He wasn’t even a Gifted, who had double the Lifeblood of Commons.
The truth was, Magnus was Sacred. Perhaps the only Sacred who hadn’t become a Lord.
And that meant he had an abundance of Lifeblood, so much so that he could go weeks, even months, without feeding from another vampire, like Ragnor himself.
Magnus had been away for only two weeks.
Therefore, him being depleted of Lifeblood shouldn’t have been possible.
Unless he encountered the one being who could do this to him.
Magnus slowly turned his head toward Ragnor, his eyes so empty, it made Ragnor’s rage rise. “The Jinn,” his Lieutenant said weakly, confirming Ragnor’s suspicions. “They ... ambushed me.”
Ragnor’s hands clenched into fists. Last time he’d checked, there were only lesser Jinn in America. But Magnus seemed as though he’d encountered a greater Jinni.
But it made no sense. Certain conditions needed to be met in order for the greater Jinn to be able to manifest on earth. There was no way that these conditions could’ve been met. Ragnor would’ve known.
And yet here they were.
Letting out a rough breath, Ragnor leaned back. “How did you escape?” he asked, because in his current state, he couldn’t have possibly done it alone.
Magnus confirmed his thoughts when, in a terribly frail voice, he replied, “Someone ... helped. I don’t ...”
“You don’t know who they were.” Ragnor finished the sentence for him, and Magnus gave him a chillingly sad smile. Of course it would be some mysterious supposed Good Samaritan.
Seeing how tired his Lieutenant looked, Ragnor knew the rest of his questions should be answered at a different time. So, for now, he pulled back the sleeve of his coat and put his wrist to Magnus’s mouth. “Drink,” he ordered.
It seemed Magnus didn’t have the strength to object, as he would’ve probably done under different circumstances, because he unsheathed his fangs and pressed his mouth against Ragnor’s skin. Ragnor didn’t even flinch when his Lieutenant’s fangs cut his skin and he began to suck his blood.
Normally, Ragnor refrained from sharing his blood with other vampires. Even the newly Imprinted drank only human blood, while custom dictated the Imprinting Lord should give them the first sip. However, with Ragnor’s blood being far more potent than a regular Lord’s, he couldn’t risk it. Thankfully, the newly Imprinted didn’t need to drink from a Lord to gain vampirehood, since the initial Lifeblood transfer—the act of giving the Imprint—required an exchange of any sort of bodily fluids. The most traditional way was through blood exchange, but sex, or even a kiss, had always been far more popular than simply exchanging blood.
But with Magnus being Sacred, Ragnor didn’t fear any repercussions. Especially in his current state, even a Gifted’s blood wouldn’t be enough to replenish this Sacred’s Lifeblood.
For a few long minutes, Magnus simply drank. The more of Ragnor’s blood he took in, the better his skin started to look, its sickly grayish tint slowly disappearing. The color returned to his cheeks as well, and the spots all over his body dissipated, as if they were never there to begin with. He was still thinner than he should have been and quite frail, too, but a week of daily feeding of Commons’ blood, and he would be as good as new.
After ten minutes, Magnus retracted his fangs, and Ragnor withdrew his hand. “Better?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Magnus said, voice stronger than before. “Much better.”
“Good,” Ragnor said, rising to his feet. “Rest now. I’ll see you when I come back.”
He was about to leave when Magnus suddenly said, “Who will you take with you to the gala, then?”
Ragnor couldn’t help but smirk. “It’s time I put your mentee to some good use.”
Before he stopped for the day, Ragnor visited his town house aboveground.
In the living room, he found Eliza watching the TV, still wearing the attire from the evening before. Feeling his anger rise, he walked toward her and grabbed her arm, then pulled her up to her feet. “You have some explaining to do,” he growled.
Unsurprised by his anger, Eliza shook off his hold and said in an even tone, “Did you really think I would let you handle the Child of Kahil on your own?”
His anger deepened. “Are you threatening me, Eliza?”
She scowled and glared at him. “I’m doing this for your sake, Ragnor,” she barked out. “You’re not rational when it comes to Aileen. So yes, I’ve been keeping an eye on her to evaluate how much danger she poses.”
Before he could think it through, Ragnor wrapped his hands around Eliza’s throat, his eyes glowing. “You should’ve never gone behind my back,” he said quietly, voice low and terrible. Eliza winced when he tightened his hold on her neck. “You betrayed my trust, Wains.”
She gave him a somewhat sad smile. “Think that if it makes you feel better,” she said softly, “but, Ragnor, if I don’t look out for you, then who will?”
He tensed. “I’ve been doing a fine job so far on my own.”
“Famous last words,” she said, daring to chuckle. “You can be mad at me. You can even tear my head off if you want—though we both know that won’t be enough to kill me. But someone had to make sure you’re not in over your head when it comes to this woman.”
Furious, Ragnor threw Eliza on the ground and stepped back, glowering at her. “Stay away from Aileen,” he snarled. “This is your last warning, Eliza.”
She gave him an almost sympathetic look. “Hate me all you want, Rayne,” she said gently, “but someone needs to do the job you’re refusing to do—”
“She’s my problem.” He cut her off. “I will be the only one to deal with her. Not you, not Atalon, not anyone else but me.”
She stared at him quietly for a few long moments before she sighed and looked away. “You have a month, Ragnor,” she said quietly. “Find out what the fuck she is before then.”
He bared his teeth. “You dare threaten me?”
“It’s not a threat. It’s a warning,” she said matter-of-factly. “If you fail, I’ll be forced to take drastic measures, whether you like it or not.”