Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Noah and I spent the morning in the townhome.
He slept on the armchair he’d carried into Jules’ bedroom while I puttered around the house pulling together a small breakfast for us.
Thankfully they had some tonics on hand, but I had no idea what Jules might need.
I woke Noah for breakfast mainly because I knew he liked the smell of toasted bread and enjoyed sitting with us while we took a meal.
Though Lilith lay beside her mother’s sleeping form, her eyes stayed open as she appeared to memorize Jules’ face.
She refused to eat, however, only changed out the damp cloth on Jules’ brow and ignored the plate I set on the bedside table.
I dozed off eventually at the foot of the bed and woke to a delicate hand brushing back my hair.
I blinked, groaned and pushed up to a seat.
Jules frowned, looking between the three of us who sat vigil at her bedside.
But the witch before me was not the strong woman I knew.
Her skin was a sickly green, the bruises beneath her eyes deeper than ever I’d seen them, and a soft wheeze whistled in her throat whenever she took a breath.
“What happened?” she rasped.
I jumped up, encouraging her to rest back on the pillows. “You collapsed at Lord Montag’s home during the hunt.”
Lilith stirred before waking with a gasp. “Maman!”
Noah was next, shooting from the chair and stumbling over to the bed. Jules hushed us with a wave of her hands as we all talked over each other, trying to get her to somehow relax more when she was already lying down.
“I’m fine.” She patted Lilith’s cheek while putting her hand over mine. “The wards were a bit more intense than I was anticipating. It did not help that Monsieur Hauet was distracted and dropped his side—I had to make up for his lack of attention. It must have just been a bit too much.”
Lilith’s brows rose incredulously. “A bit too much? Maman, you were coughing up blood.”
Jules waved her hand again. “It was nothing.”
I shook my head but didn’t correct her. The other two had not seen Jules in Mateo’s arms, the pale moonlight drawing her face into that of a corpse. Noah offered her a glass of water while Lilith smoothed the covers over her stomach.
“Enough, darling.” Jules placed the glass on the bedside table and grabbed Lilith’s hands. “I’m sorry I frightened you, especially so soon after your grandmère, but I’m fine. I only need rest and recovery for a few days, which means I need you to run Risqeu while I do, yes?”
Lilith nodded, her expression pinched and childlike in sadness as she tangled her fingers with Jules’. “Yes, Mother.”
“Adrienne, you and Noah go and rest before your shifts tonight. Lilith will meet you at the market.”
We nodded while Noah wrapped an arm around my shoulder and encouraged me to move from the bed. I wanted to protest that she should not be alone, but I held my tongue, remembering the stricken look on Mateo’s face, sure he would be here to care for her.
So we kissed both Searah women on the forehead, made sure their water pitcher was full, and left the townhome as quietly as we could.
“What’s this?” I asked Lilith, slipping through the curtain and weighing the small bag of oyista in my palm.
Lilith sat on the stool her mother usually occupied, fingers playing with the edge of the ledger as she stared into the crowd. When she didn’t answer I took another step closer—her eyes were red-rimmed and a muscle twitched in her jaw every few seconds.
I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Lils?”
She jumped, rubbing her eye with a fist. “Sorry, what?”
I lifted the bag a little higher. “What’s this?”
“Oh, it’s your payment from last night. I left Liam’s in his parlor.”
With a frown I peered into the bag. “There has to be more than a thousand oyista in there.”
She hummed, the corner of her mouth tugging down. “Thirteen hundred.”
“That’s too much.” Especially when Lord Montag had not even been able to hunt me. I was surprised he had paid at all.
Lilith shrugged while she strummed her teeth across her bottom lip. “I don’t know, but it’s here in the ledger. I believe Lord Montag paid the night before last, as soon as Maman confirmed you would be in attendance.”
Disgust roiled in my chest. I reached into the bag, counted out three hundred oyista and held it out to her. “Take this.”
My friend blinked at me, a furrow forming between her brow. “Why are you acting as if this payment offends you? You did a job—”
“I did not do a job.”
“—and you are being paid for it,” she finished as if I had not spoken, dropping the money back into the bag and closing it.
“This is not charity work, Addie. We are not in the business of feeding the poor or building homes for those without shelter. If Lord Montag wants to pay you to run through his forest for him to catch, then—”
“He was not the one who caught me.”
Lilith gave her head an experimental shake as if my words had slapped her. “Who…”
“Good evening, Mademoiselle Searah, Mademoiselle Valois,” a monotone voice droned from behind.
I sighed internally at the sound of Lord Durham, tucking the bag of oyista into the pocket hidden in my skirts and turning. With a curtsy, I gave him the traditional greeting alongside Lilith, who immediately lost the tired sadness that had been dragging her toward the ground.
“A quarter of an hour,” Lord Durham said, holding out the oyista for Lilith, who marked it in her ledger.
I stepped to the side while Lilith drew back the curtain to allow him to move into my parlor first. The vampire nodded at me, ducked beneath and moved toward his usual spot on the right side of the settee.
He had been turned later in life than the usual vampire and his lined face held almost no expression, whether it be one of hunger or expectation, but I smiled at him all the same in the way I usually did with clients.
“Are you ready for All Souls, my lord?” I asked lightly, unsure what vampires in Oylen did to celebrate.
The lord did not reply, which neither surprised nor offended me.
I settled beside him and offered my left wrist. Yet the moment his skin touched mine, my stomach twisted sickeningly.
His hands were cold, but not cold enough, the skin too papery against my own.
The breath across my forearm was stagnant, like air in a windowless room.
My skin crawled and I fought the urge to tug back my arm as his mouth touched my wrist.
The moment his fangs pierced my skin I bit the inside of my cheek, breathing slowly through my nose.
Was I ill? Did I have the beginning of the same sickness Jules had?
With each pull of my blood bugs crawled through my veins, slithering, vile creatures wound up my spine.
A sheen of sweat broke out across my brow and I twisted my head in the hopes looking away might help.
But the faint musty scent of him was overwhelming and I could not catch my breath.
Merciful fucking goddess…was I about to retch all over this immortal?
As soon as I had the thought my eyes pricked.
Panic sliced through my veins and I pressed my lips together so tightly my jaw ached.
I needed to get away from him. Lord Durham seemed not to notice when I started to tug my arm from his grip and the edges of my vision pulsed in time with my heartbeat.
“My lord.” Lilith stood in the doorway, raising her voice a bit higher. “Lord Durham.”
The vampire withdrew, pale lips reddened with my blood. He said nothing as he looked impassively at Lilith while she took a few steps into the room.
“I’m afraid Mademoiselle Searah is not feeling well,” she said, gesturing to me.
He turned to look at me almost as though he’d forgotten I was there. Gray-blue eyes slid over my face like someone might observe the stone facade of a building. “Ah, yes.”
“I apologize, my lord,” I whispered, fearful of the haze pooling in the corners of my eyes.
Lord Durham surprised me with the small smile he gave as he patted my hand and rose. “No apology necessary.”
“Monsieur Baldé is available should you need more,” Lilith offered, walking to the small door within my parlor that connected to the others.
“That would be welcome,” Lord Durham agreed, ambling over as she twisted the knob.
Liam stood on the other side, one hand tucked into the pocket of his waistcoat, and he bowed as the vampire crossed the threshold. “Serang lan nauth, my lord.”
His eyebrows ticked up in question when Lord Durham slid past him and I waved away his concern before Lilith closed the door. My shoulders sagged, a sob wrenching from my throat as I pressed the heel of my palm to the wound. “I cannot do this. I cannot—”
“Let me in.” The command was all but a roar on the other side of the curtain. I stiffened at once while Lilith’s eyes widened. She made her way to the portal, drawing back the velvet slowly as if a venefica might be on the other side.
Before it was fully lifted, Lord Azad shot through, appearing on his knees in front of me.
His touch was everywhere, wiping my tears from my cheeks as he shushed me in quiet tones.
“It’s all right, my heart, I have you.” Each pass of his hands over my skin calmed the nausea, the discomfort bubbling within my bones smoothing into peace. “Breathe for me, just like this.”
He placed my uninjured hand over his chest and breathed slowly. I tried to mimic the movement, hiccupping with my cries. “W-why are you here?”
Those citrine eyes blazed as he looked up at me. “I told you I would call on you tonight. I heard your fear.”
Nothing could slip through that curtain. The magic was tied to Lilith and her mother. She had come in because the wards had alerted her something was wrong, but Lord Azad would have had no such connection. But then again, he had not said he’d heard my voice—no, he’d heard my fear.
With a gentleness that made the tears start all over again, he pulled my wrist from where I’d stupidly pressed it to my chest, blood seeping into the worn bodice of my gown. A growl emanated from his chest and I froze.
“Someone drank from you?” Was that fury in his gaze?
My throat clicked with a swallow. “It…it is my job.”
I expected him to growl again or perhaps to look at me with disgust. But he only nodded solemnly and lifted his thumb to his mouth, biting through the pad.
It was with that same gentleness that he smoothed his blood across the bite wound and it closed a heartbeat later.
I could only stare dumbfounded as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the mark.
He ran his tongue across the scar, leaving more blood in its wake and wiping away any remnant of Lord Durham’s bite.
“Lilith,” Lord Azad murmured, his eyes sliding up to meet mine. “Will you draw up the necessary documents for Mademoiselle Valois to become my exclusive blood giver?”