Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
bloom
Maverick texted me a few hours into the afternoon. My coffee cup was empty again, and I was seriously considering going down to the shop in the lobby again instead of making another one myself.
It would take at least ten minutes, though. Probably fifteen or twenty, because the elevator was so freaking slow. I could make one in five, and free time wasn’t something I was currently rolling in, since I was taking the next day off.
Maverick
Want to have dinner together? The food court in the tower has steak tonight, and Nolan’s bugging me about meeting you officially
Me
Sounds fun, but I’m meeting Sutton soon, and I have to meet with Phyllis and Carter to try to deal with their recent rivalry for once and all after that, so I don’t think I’ll have time
Maverick
Late dinner?
Me
Sorry, I promised Harper we could do Sleep Fest tonight and tomorrow. We’re just going to eat dessert and watch TV while dozing on the couch for like thirty-six hours
Maverick
She can’t monopolize you for that long
If I have to share, she does too
Me
I just went on a road trip with you, remember?
Maverick
For work
Me
Is that what you usually call it when you go down on someone in the hotel room you’re sharing?
Maverick
Considering it’s only happened once, I can call it whatever I want
I’ll bring dinner to the meeting and sit in. It’ll go faster if I’m there, and we’ll have some time to hang out
Me
I didn’t know old, immortal werewolves could hang out
Maverick
They’re professionals at hanging out, actually
See you in an hour?
I sent him a thumbs-up, then decided to make myself a latte. After a moment’s hesitation, I added a pump of vanilla to the caramel creation. Despite the pink sweater I was still wearing and the fact that I’d seen him at lunch, I kind of missed Maverick.
That had to be the soulmate bond speaking.
I sipped my drink while I scrolled slowly through a packet of completed paperwork Phyllis had just sent over. Carter’s would be coming in soon. They’d probably want to talk (and argue) about it when we met.
It was getting kind of cold in my office, so I reached over and grabbed a blanket off the edge of my couch, pulling it over my shoulders.
I didn’t usually get cold during the day, but whatever.
A woman knocked on my glass door.
She was stunning, with long, curly burgundy hair tied up in a high ponytail. It looked natural, though I wasn’t quite sure that was possible.
Her cutoff jean shorts and long-sleeved t-shirt showed off plenty of smooth, dark brown skin. Her outfit didn’t quite make sense, given the weather, and she was barefoot just like every other werewolf I’d met.
Sutton.
A touch of jealousy made my heart beat a little faster. Maverick’s ex had no right to be that beautiful.
I waved her in anyway.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hey.” The word felt weird on my lips, and I realized I was sweating, just a tiny bit.
I needed to get over my possessiveness. She and Maverick had barely dated, and it didn’t sound like there had even been any feelings involved.
Dropping my blanket over the back of my chair, I forced myself to let out a slow breath.
The room spun a little.
Okay, that was weird.
Sleep deprivation, maybe?
I took a long drink of my latte.
Caffeine, don’t let me down.
Sutton crossed the room and took a seat in one of the chairs opposite mine.
“You should’ve had kids with Maverick. Your babies would’ve been gorgeous,” I said.
Fuck.
Had I really just said that aloud?
Her lips curved upward the tiniest bit. “That was never going to happen. We barely liked each other, and neither of us wanted kids at the time. Coparenting would’ve been hell.”
“You still can’t deny it.”
“The genetics would’ve worked, I guess.” She gestured toward my cup. “You like coffee?”
“You could say I’m obsessed. Don’t tell me it’s a pattern for Maverick’s exes.”
Her smile widened further. “No. I drink it sometimes, but I prefer tea. I just think it’s funny, because of how much he hates it.”
I blinked. “He hates coffee?”
She nodded. “He hasn’t told you?”
I shook my head. “He doesn’t drink it, but he’s never said anything.” And he always bought it for me.
“He can’t stand it. One time, him and Rhone got in an argument about it, and someone’s espresso machine went out a window at the estate.”
I blinked again.
He hated it that much?
Why hadn’t he told me?
That was weird. Wasn’t it?
“It’s probably in your scent so much that it altered his tastebuds,” she said, sounding amused.
Everything spun again, a little more. I set my cup down to grab the edge of my desk. Instead of landing on the surface, like I thought it would, it plunged off the edge and hit the floor. Creamy goodness ran slowly out of the straw and the small hole around it.
I blinked down at the growing stain.
When I lifted my head, Sutton was on her knees, lowering her face toward my spilled drink.
“Am I hallucinating?” My grip on the edge of the desk started to slip. “I think something’s wrong with me.”
Sutton yanked her phone out of the pocket of her jeans, lifting it quickly to her ear. “There’s wolfsbane in Bloom’s coffee. Where are you?”
The world spun again, and didn’t stop spinning this time.
My nausea grew worse.
Wolfsbane?
That was what the wolves called aconite.
It was deadly.
Sutton was saying something else into the phone, but my mind was racing. My heart was, too.
My stomach turned, and I lifted the back of my hand to my mouth, fighting the urge to retch.
Sutton put my paperwork-filled trash bin in my lap, then pulled my hair back behind my face. “Breathe,” she ordered. “Maverick is on his way. He’s in the tower, but he’ll be here soon.”
“I’m going to die,” I said, my voice slurring
I gagged, and she pulled my hair back tighter with one hand. With the other, she opened my desk drawer, searching for a hair tie.
They were organized neatly in their own tiny bin, next to my pink sticky notes. Not to be confused with the blues.
“Can you call my family?” I asked before I gagged again. She tied my hair back deftly, at the nape of my neck. “And Harper. Shit, Harper.”
She needed me.
Velour still hadn’t gotten back to us.
She had to live. I was supposed to help her. Everyone was going to kill her, and the world was still fucking spinning.
“No. You’re not going to die, Bloom.”
“There’s no antidote. I know how this goes.” I clutched the desk tighter as everything spun harder.
My stomach turned again, and I vomited into the trash bin. I didn’t feel better afterward, like Harper said she did when she had one of those teeny little human stomach bugs that only lasted a day.
I groaned, resting my face on the edge of the bin as I tried to catch my breath. My heart was racing too fast, and sweat made my bloody-crusted pink sweater feel like it was glued to my skin.
We should’ve burned that thing after Maverick’s challenges.
“You’ll start vomiting blood soon. Within a few minutes,” Sutton said calmly. “It won’t kill you. When your body’s nearly empty, Maverick will feed you his blood, and you’ll recover. It worked for Oren, a few weeks after the war ended. It’ll work for you too.”
I threw up again. It hurt more and went on longer.
“That doesn’t sound like it’s going to work,” I moaned.
“It has before.”
“Only once?”
“Yes.”
“Those odds aren’t—” I vomited again.
And again.
Everything was spinning more. Sutton was holding me up completely.
The door to my office crashed open.
Vanilla filled my lungs.
Someone was snarling. Maybe more than one someone. And that was Harper’s voice, yelling something.
A pair of massive arms engulfed me.
“You are going to be fine,” Maverick said, his forehead against my temple. “You will not die, Bloom. I won’t allow it.”
I choked out a laugh. It didn’t sound like one.
Then I vomited.
Again.
And again.
Vaguely, I could tell that Maverick was carrying me, and a new trash can that still rested on my lap. I was pretty sure he was moving quickly. I thought I heard Harper a few more times, too.
The sun hit me for a moment.
The air changed afterward. I inhaled more vanilla. Cinnamon, too.
The sun disappeared.
The scents changed a little.
A door closed while I vomited.
My knees kissed cold tile.
Strong, ink-covered arms were around my waist, holding my full weight to keep me upright as the contents of my body slowly and miserably made their way out.
Eventually, I was gagging and retching, and there was nothing left.
My body trembled lightly. My eyes were closed. I wasn’t sure I could open them again.
“She needs to bite you now,” a woman’s voice commanded. It sounded distant, as if there were something separating us.
Or maybe I was just... fading.
A wrist met my mouth, and a massive, gentle hand pulled my head down until my fangs were buried in vanilla and cinnamon and bliss.
I drank.
And drank.
And drank.
And drank.
Until I passed out, viciously sated and gloriously full and so damn near death I could almost taste it.