10. Shemaiah
SHEMAIAH
After leaving Mrs. Darning, I go straight to the library to find Pippa. She likes to spend the afternoons there, but today she isn’t in her usual seat.
“Pippa?” My voice rings hollow, robbed from the air the moment it hits the insulating rug and shelf after shelf of books.
The room, and the chair she stole from me, are empty.
A clock ticks on the mantel, disturbingly loud.
Her scent is faint, as if the last time she was in the room was the day before, which makes my hearts beat an uneven rhythm.
It’s not unusual for it to be difficult to find someone in a house like this, but Pippa likes to keep a predictable schedule.
Unease burrows into my spine, using me like a host.
She’s probably just napping, but still my pulse spikes.
After checking her bedroom and finding it empty, I track her scent. Even worried, my instincts delight in the hunt, especially this close to the new moon. My sight sharpens, my muscles flood and expand, adrenaline snaps at the possibility of cornering prey.
Following the lingering hint of her, my claws unsheathe. My fangs lengthen.
Kay comes around the corner and squeaks at the sight of me, pushing herself against a wall. “Shemaiah?”
I ignore her and keep going, quick footsteps receding behind me as if she’s running away.
Pippa’s got to be here somewhere. She likes to explore the house. We talked about it yesterday.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “Maybe I want answers to a mystery.” But she didn’t elaborate.
I hadn’t thought much of her roaming until now, when finding her consumes my focus.
After traversing to the north wing, I find her scent stronger, but different. It’s flooded with… petrichor, as if a deluge of spring rain hit hot earth. Combined with the bitterness of the illness, I know it isn’t right. Something’s wrong.
“Pippa!” I yell, springing after the scent to the tapestry gallery.
They’ve brought in flowers from the greenhouse, and someone has sprayed everything down with perfume to cover the musty scent of the tapestries. So many fragrances. So many places to hide. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to have a new moon party in here?
Pippa’s scent is subtle, too subtle, but I could pick it out anywhere. She’s close. I just need to find where. Tearing through the room, I wrench tapestries from their hangings and upend preparations.
“Pippa!”
A soft moan sets my blood running cold. Dashing to the back of the room, I find Pippa in a heap on the floor. My hearts stop, breath searing my burning lungs. I scoop her up like a rag doll. She’s so frail, so fragile. Has she always been this breakable?
“Pippa,” I say, holding her in my arms like a babe. She blinks, and I think she might answer, but her eyes roll back with another moan of pain that lances straight from one heart to the other. Fuck!
I need to get her out of here. I run one way down the hall, then spin back, realizing the only thing in that direction is the greenhouse. Why can’t I think straight?
Bed. She needs a bed. I rush up the stairs.
Ruby runs out of Anna’s room at the sound of me kicking in Pippa’s door. “What happened?”
Ignoring her, I lay Pippa in the center of the four-poster bed. Anna and Kay huddle close to each other just behind Ruby.
“Get Noah,” I bark, voice unusually scratchy. My brother will know what to do. He’s the one with medical training. Right now, everything I know feels useless. Ruby nods before using her Mavarri speed to sprint out of the room.
“Move.” Anna squeezes her way between me and the bed so she can get to Pippa. “Get some water.” Her voice is different, deeper and authoritative, as opposed to her usual flirty, high-pitched tone.
Kay darts for the pitcher.
Anna presses her ear to Pippa’s chest, listens, then points at me. “Elevate her legs. Use the pillows.”
I follow her directions, pushing pillows under Pippa’s legs just as Kay returns with a glass of water.
Anna unbuttons the dress at Pippa’s throat, down to her white chemise. “I don’t think she’s wearing a corset.” She runs her hands over Pippa’s ribs, then brings her fingers to her wrist to take her pulse.
“Her heart is beating,” I say.
“How quickly?”
“Too quickly.” I count each beat for a minute and give Anna the number.
“Let’s give her another minute.” She frowns and steps away, allowing me to return to Pippa’s side.
I can feel Anna’s eyes on my back, probing, wondering, but I ignore her.
When Pippa’s eyelashes flutter open, I breathe a sigh of relief. Her gaze focuses on me, and it feels as if the rest of the room and everyone in it falls away.
“Thank the goddess.” I take her hand.
“W-what h-happened?” Kay’s voice trembles as she asks Pippa the question.
Pippa tries to sit, but her arms shake, so I help reposition her, grabbing more pillows to prop her up.
“It’s nothing,” she answers in a weak voice. “My legs have been hurting today, and I ignored the signs. I wanted….” Her eyes catch mine.
In a blur of movement, Noah and Ruby return. Noah with a stethoscope, and Ruby with his medical bag. My brother immediately asks Pippa questions, but she hesitates to answer, looking at all of us huddled around the room.
“Out,” I say, picking up on her discomfort and ushering Anna and Kay to the door. I try to get Ruby to leave as well, but she refuses, stating that Noah might need help. Since Pippa doesn’t argue with her, I don’t push the issue.
As soon as we’re in the hall, Kay falls apart. She turns into my chest, crying and clinging to my suit vest. I’m not particularly good at comforting people, but I awkwardly pat her back in an attempt.
Anna leans against the wall on the other side of the hall, pale as a ghost. She’s never looked more striking. Stripped of her facade, I see her differently. Our eyes catch, and there’s steel there, the same steel I sometimes see in Pippa.
“How did you know what to do?” The question is a quiet harmony to Kay’s soft sobs.
“I was a nurse,” Anna responds.
“Before you became ill?”
She nods but doesn’t look at me.
Kay steps away, sniffling. “Do you think she’s going to—” Kay’s hand flies to her mouth, choking off the rest of her sentence.
“She’ll be fine,” I say, as much to convince myself as them.
“What if she’s not?” Anna’s hands fist her skirt like she’s trying to hide that they’re shaking.
“She’ll be fine,” I repeat more firmly. “You all will be.”
The lie twists in my gut like a swarm of locusts.
The door slowly cracks open, and Noah steps out, greeting our held breaths with a tired nod. “She’s clear-headed and talking. She just needs to rest.”
“She shouldn’t attend the new moon party,” Anna says, firm and certain.
“I agree,” Noah replies with a nod. “If the detective wishes to speak to her, he can come up here.”
“I’ll stay with her.” I don’t like the idea of Pippa being alone.
“Ruby’s with her.” Noah tilts his head, giving me a curious look. “You need to eat.”
“Of course.” I school my features back into the casual shield I lost after finding Pippa on the floor. She’ll be in good hands with Ruby. My sister-in-law doesn’t need to drink tonight since she can get her fill from her mate whenever she needs. Ruby staying makes the most sense.
Except the need to see Pippa jumbles everything.
I have no claim on her. I don’t want one.
She’s no different than either of these other women.
The thought feels like a lie, but I choose to believe it.
With heavy feet, I walk away, forcing my posture to relax, hands in pockets, steps even.
I don’t like the feeling that’s twisting my gut.
I’m just hungry.
It’s good that Pippa won’t be at tonight’s festivities.
I need to indulge myself, and the slip of a girl would only be a distraction.
She’s already wormed her way too close to my hearts, like a splinter I can’t displace.
When I saw her in a heap… No, it doesn’t matter.
I can’t get attached. She’s dying. Someday, I’ll find her, and she won’t be fine like she was today.
I need to be more careful. No more seeking her out at breakfast. No more shared looks behind the others’ backs. No more games and puzzles in the evenings.
I’ll still have to tell her about Tobias not being at the New Essik Family Group, but other than that, I can limit our contact to the bare necessities. Just the update on Tobias, then distance.
Firming my resolve, I go to my own rooms and prepare for the party.