Chapter 12
DARCIE
A soothing voice threads through the dark, tugging at the frayed edge of my scattered mind.
It sings a song I don’t know. The syllables are unfamiliar, vowels stretched and lilting like a lullaby.
I strain toward the calming sound, but the lyrics skitter away like fish under a disturbed surface.
Frustration bubbles up, and I cling harder to the rousing noise. It grows, note by note, until the distant melody lifts me, pulling me up from the darkness like a hand from above.
My eyes snap open to a familiar ceiling. I’m in my guest bedroom.
Air rushes in, ragged. I lift a shaky arm. It immediately falls to my stomach.
I can move. Relief hits so fast my eyes sting. I can breathe.
I’m okay.
“Thank the Creator,” an accented voice murmurs, warm, steady. I turn my head and meet almond-shaped dark eyes.
“Eshe,” I croak, my throat feels like sandpaper.
“Shhh. Don’t talk yet.” She slides an arm behind my shoulders and lifts, a practiced motion.
I flinch, anticipating a fresh wave of agony from the contact, but there is none.
She tucks two pillows beneath my head, then reaches an arm toward the nightstand, returning with water.
The glass, slick with condensation, tries to slip from my grasp as I take it with both hands. My weak arms tremble as I bring the rim to my mouth.
“Hold on,” Eshe says, already moving to a silver cart tucked against the wall by the bedroom door. She returns with a green-striped bendy straw.
She pops it into the water. “Try that.”
I quirk an eyebrow but obey, and the first cool pull of water feels like heaven.
I drain more than half of the glass before finally asking, “Bendy straws?”
The corner of her mouth curves. “Des thought you might need it.”
His name unlocks the sorrowful vision I witnessed.
“H-how is he?” I choke out before taking another soothing sip.
“He will be better once he knows you’re awake.”
I lift a brow.
She only adjusts the blanket tucked at my waist.
“Where is he?” I ask.
“Probably with Lome or Alexander. They’ve been trying to keep him occupied.” She takes the glass from my hands and sets it aside. “He visits you at night. When no one is around to notice.”
Because he doesn’t want anyone to know he cares.
I’m both touched and hurt by the realization.
I swallow. “How long have I been out?”
Her lips press into a tight line. “Five days.”
“What?” I gasp.
My eyes drop to my weakened arms and covered legs, like they can answer for the missing time.
No wonder everything feels hollowed out, weak. My limbs have the strength of cooked noodles.
Eshe clears her throat. “You had an IV for hydration, but it was removed this morning when you began to stir.”
I glance at my elbow. A nude bandage sits over the blue veins. I’m absurdly grateful it’s gone. Needles and I are not friends.
A shiver rolls through me, and I tug the blanket higher. “Has anyone talked to my dad?”
Five days of silence is too long, especially when he’s expecting to hear back from me about his proposed trip. God. He has to be so worried.
“Des and Lome visited him in Italy and convinced him you were well,” Eshe says.
My stomach sinks.
Convinced…
She means the Immortals altered his mind.
I don’t blame them. What else were they supposed to do?
Still…my morals rebel against the continual manipulation of my dad’s mind.
“That’s good,” I murmur, leaning back into the pillows and combing frustrated fingers through my tangled hair.
Only…my hair isn’t the bird’s nest I expected.
“I brush your hair every day,” she says. “And changed your clothes when needed.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Guilt and appreciation tangle together. “You have more important things to do.”
Like help find Bella…
“It was nothing.” She waves my words away, but her gaze softens. “I cared for my father for a long time. Next to him, you were an easy patient.”
“Your father was sick?” It is a new piece of information about Eshe’s past.
Despite my still weak state, I can’t pass up on the chance to learn more about the secretive Egyptian.
Eshe nods, folding her hands in her lap as she settles back on the edge of the bed. “For a long time. Ever since my mother passed.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was long ago.” She pushes her long black braid over her shoulder. “How do you feel now that you’re awake?”
“Weak,” I admit. “Maybe hungry? It’s hard to tell.”
She nods. “No pain, then?”
“Nope.”
“Des will be relieved to know the clan was right.”
“Clan?” The word snags. “As in…witches?”
She nods. “Several members of the Nightsbane Clan arrived this morning. They came to help you through your awakening.”
I blink, struggling to keep up. “A clan of witches came to help me?”
“Your powers are emerging,” she explains. “They helped your body adjust to the transition of power so you could wake.”
“And I’m glad they were right,” she adds, her mouth twitching. “Des would have ripped their heads off if they were wrong. Alexander, too. And the Alliance does not need internal conflict at the moment.”
My head spins.
I close my eyes, arranging the facts into an order I can process.
When Des first told me I was half-breed, a witch, he called my visions the first stirring of my power. He did not mention that the next phase might burn me alive from the inside.
The terrace memory floods back, and I groan softly. “That’s what they were talking about.”
“Who?”
I pry my eyes open. “Des and Alex. I had a vision while I was…out. They were talking about me. And my birthday.”
Understanding flickers in Eshe’s gaze.
“Yes. Powers fully emerge by a witch’s twenty-first birthday. Yours must’ve been delayed.” Her expression darkens a shade. “Though they are not supposed to nearly destroy you.”
My forehead furrows. “So what happened to me isn’t normal?”
“No.” A fine line appears between her brows. “Not at all.”
Great…
I blow out a heavy breath.
Nothing about me can be normal. Can it?
“Eshe?” A male voice calls down the corridor, warm and familiar. “Are you in here?”
Lome strides into the room. His hazel eyes sweep the room once, then land on me and grow wide.
“Darcie?” Disbelief flips to joy in a blink. “You’re awake!”
He crosses the distance and folds me into a hug. The breath whooshes out of me in a startled laugh.
He jerks back instantly, contrition all over his face. “I’m sorry. I did not mean… Are you hurt? Did I–?”
“I’m fine.” I grin to prove it. “Tired and weak, but good.”
He perches on the bed, opposite Eshe, the mattress dipping under his weight. “You scared us half to death, girl. Don’t do that again.”
“No promises,” I joke. “But I’ll try.”
He manages to give me a small grin of his own.
“Did you need something from me?” Eshe asks, drawing her husband’s attention.
His smile falters. “Thane is hosting a meeting with Charmian and the clan who helped Darcie. I came to ask if you wished to attend?”
Her stunning dark eyes widen.
“A meeting?” I sit up and immediately begin to push the covers down my legs, ignoring my shaking muscles. “I want to go.”
Eshe’s hands land gently, but firmly, on my shoulders. “You just woke up, Darcie. You shouldn’t get out of bed. You need rest.”
“I feel fine,” I counter, even as I try to hide the dizziness the sudden movement has caused. “I want to hear why the clan came to help me, and why I needed help in the first place.”
Lome shifts, uncomfortable. “I don’t think Thane wishes to discuss your treatment. He’s more concerned with convincing them to join the alliance.”
I don’t care.
I keep working to free my legs from blankets. Eshe takes pity on me, withdrawing her hands, and slides the covers to my ankles.
“Please reconsider,” she says. “We can get more information about the clan another time. You shouldn’t overdo it.”
“I’ve been lying here for five days.” I swing a pointed look between the Immortals. “Fresh air could do wonders for my recovery.”
Now, it’s Eshe’s turn to roll her eyes.
Time to play to my audience’s weakness.
“You don’t like being left out either,” I remind her. “You, of all people, should understand why I want to be there.”
She lifts a brow at my transparent manipulation. “This is different. You are unwell.”
“I am perfectly fine. I don’t want to learn about anything secondhand. I want to hear it for myself.”
“And I know they may not even discuss my treatment,” I add quickly when Lome opens his mouth for a rebuttal. “I’m still interested in hearing what they have to say. To learn if they will join the alliance.”
Des hopes to track Bella using the clan’s power. If they don’t agree to help, I want to hear their reasons.
Silence stretches.
Husband and wife trade loaded looks over me.
Lome exhales, defeated.
“Fine. But you must remain silent,” he warns.
Victory gives my weakened muscles strength.
I swing my legs over the edge when Eshe stands. I push onto my feet, and my knees give out.
I fall back onto the mattress. “Oops.”
“Darcie,” Lome groans, raking a hand through his hair.
“I’m fine!”
“You can’t even get up!”
“Then someone can carry me,” I say, undeterred.
I’m not missing a clan of witches parading through this mansion. I want them to explain why my so-called transition tried to rip me apart.
Right on cue, the air at the doorway shifts. A figure fills the frame, broad shoulders, dark cloak, bringing a gust of cool wind.
I turn, already smiling.
“Gregory,” I say, delighted, a solution clicking into place like a well-set trap. “Just the big, strong vampire I wanted to see.”