Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
“Two weeks sleeping outside one won’t kill her,” he says. “You want to stop the dreams, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” Somehow, I can feel myself calming down the more I think about it.
“Put this in her blood.” He leans across the desk, handing me a crimson vial. “It’s a little more of my own, which should help to solidify the effects of the hypnosis.”
I’ll do anything to keep her from having a nightmare like that again. “Did you compel her?” I ask, and he raises a brow.
“I don’t have my uncle’s power,” he says. “If I could compel her, I would erase the memory completely. Instead, I’m just blocking it.”
“What do I say to her now?”
“Tell her that her sickness has returned,” he says. “You called me, I helped. Aliz won’t remember anything, but she’ll know she threw up.”
“All right.” I hesitate.
“Was that a saltward that I saw next to your bed?” he asks in a low voice, as if he’s afraid someone might hear us. I frown.
“I found instructions for one in a grimoire. I needed protection until she gets used to the scent of my blood.” He simply stares at me. I can’t make out what’s behind his gaze. Then, I say: “I saw Penny.”
I watch his expression carefully. In a way, it reflects Penny’s when I said his name, though Nocth doesn’t twist with rage. “In Inverness?” he says, caught off guard. “Why was she there?”
“Didn’t you tell her about the blood party?” Nocth shakes his head. “She got rather angry when I mentioned your name.”
“Oh, she detests me,” he says, voice light. “And I can’t blame her.”
“Why?” I ask.
He leans back and looks at his watch. “You should go. Aliz will wake soon.”
Aliz is awake by the time I reach our room. She’s formed an odd cocoon with my bedsheets, pressed against the wall with the pillow at her side.
Although I was only gone for half an hour, the room is spotless.
“Do you like my new coffin?” she asks, her voice muffled beneath the sheets.
“It’s imaginative,” I say, sitting down next to her. I peel the top of the sheet down just enough to see her eyes. They’re red, but she doesn’t have the same fear, the same panic, as before.
“Did my sickness come back?” she asks, and I nod. She still has a gaunt appearance, and I run my fingers across her cheekbones, unnaturally sharp. She pulls the top of the sheet back over her head. “Sorry. It must have been disgusting.”
“It’s all right,” I say. “I was worried.” An odd calm spreads through me now that I’m near her. “Why did you go to sleep early?”
“I didn’t,” she says, voice muffled beneath the duvet. “I came back to my room to grab a book, but I can’t remember what happened next. Did I…” She peeks out of the bedsheets again, her eyelashes damp. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” I whisper. She lets out a sigh of relief and unravels the top of the sheets. “Are you thirsty?”
“Extremely,” she says, swallowing hard. “I threw up, right?”
“Yeah. But it’s all right. How long should I heat your blood for?”
“Forty-two seconds,” she says. “At six hundred watts.”
“Forty-two seconds,” I repeat, and she offers me a small smile.
New curtains separate our rooms, replacing the ones that she tore down.
I text the dean, telling him to get her more of Marcus’s blood, because all that’s left now is the synthetic kind.
I empty the vial of Nocth’s blood into it, hoping she will be able to drink it.
Forty-two seconds later, I carry the cup over, and she peels herself free of the covers.
She’s so thirsty that at first, she doesn’t notice what she’s wearing. She downs the whole thing in ten seconds, and very slowly, her red eyes turn black. Her sunken cheeks fill out again, and my chin trembles, because I thought I was going to lose her.
“Are you all right?” I ask, and before I can help myself, I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her.
Slowly, Aliz returns the embrace. I expect her to tease me, to say something funny.
But instead, she simply sighs. When she sniffs my neck, I don’t feel the usual fear.
Not the pull towards her, either. Instead, all I can think of is what Nocth said. She was forced to drain someone.
“I’m going to get changed,” I whisper. I clear my throat, and Aliz nods.
“I’ll head over to my coffin, then.”
“Actually, I think we should try to sleep together,” I say.
She gawks at me, tired eyes widening. “According to Nocth, the fact that we were so far apart is probably what triggered the return of your sickness.” I speak as quickly as I can, trying to not let any hesitation slip into my voice.
“Apparently sleeping in the same room isn’t close enough.
So, until the mark’s gone, we’ll have to stay even closer. ”
Aliz nods. “I like being close to you,” she says.
Her gaze, exhausted, is on my hand. I wish she wouldn’t say things like that because I like it, too.
I head into the bathroom to brush my teeth and get changed.
Some of the vines of the Familiar’s mark have started to spread down my arms. It’s a miracle they’ve not travelled upwards, to my face, or hiding it would be more of a nightmare than it already is.
I glance at the shower. The white tiles are impeccable, as though not a single drop of blood ever splashed against them. I press my lips together and try to burn the image out of my mind.
If we’re going to be sleeping in the same bed from now on, I should probably buy some proper pyjamas.
When I tug at the curtains of my bed, I find Aliz holding up the fabric of her borrowed nightgown and staring at the lace trimming.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t have anything else. Do you want to change?”
“You saw me naked,” she says. I lie down beside her, outside of the covers, and nod.
“You’ve seen me naked, too, so we’re even.”
“Fair enough,” she whispers, sighing. “Thanks for taking care of me, Cassie.”
“You would do the same for me,” I say, brushing a strand of her snow-white hair away from her face. A thin, cool layer of sweat glistens on her skin. Instead of letting go of her, I keep my hand there, cupping her cheek.
“But I already did, and I basically ruined your life.” The muscles of her face are tense, as though she’s holding back tears.
“Well,” I whisper, running a thumb over her brow, messing the short white hairs. “Turns out Elia knows how to get into the library.”
“Elia?” Aliz says, gawking at me.
I nod. “The entrance is behind the rose nook. And she knows how to get past it.”
“How—why does Elia know?”
“She saw my mark,” I say.
“No, about the library,” she stresses, blinking fast.
I stare at her. Elia must have kept her identity secret even from Aliz, because had Aliz known that she was Palau, she would have probably asked for Elia’s help right away.
“I think it’ll be better if Elia explains,” I say.
“Tomorrow we’ll ask her to take us there.
” Elia already said no to me. But surely she won’t turn Aliz down, will she?
Suddenly, Aliz frees herself from her little cocoon and pulls me into her arms. “Oh, Cassie—” Her voice breaks, and she tightens her grip. “Thank fuck, I—” She sniffs, her chin resting on my head to ensure I can’t see her tears. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if the contract was sealed.”
Slowly, I return her embrace. I’m not a vampire. I can’t tell when someone is lying. But Elia is wrong. Ares and Ada may have manipulated those around them, but Aliz is not the same.
My nose is pressed to the crook of her neck, lips on her collarbone.
Her skin should be cold, but it burns instead.
Her sniffling quietens, and I squeeze her.
I wish this moment, as horrid as its inception was, would last forever.
She sighs, hugging me tight, and I wish it didn’t feel so right. So natural.
I’m about to fall asleep when I hear her voice. “Oh, Cassie,” she whispers, running her fingers through my hair.
“What is it?” I ask, looking up at her. “Is my blood—” She shakes her head.
“It still smells good, but the thirst isn’t torture.”
“What is it, then?” I ask. Her forehead touches mine, and for a moment, I think our lips, already close, are going to meet. Her white lashes brush against my own, and my breath hitches.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” she whispers. “We should sleep.”
We’re millimetres apart.
“Tomorrow,” I echo, lowering my face, until it rests just above her chest. Aliz lets out a sigh. Slowly, she wraps an arm around me again, ensuring our skin is pressed together.
Please don’t dream, I think, squeezing her hand.