“My lady,” a male voice husked from a pile of bedding.
CHAPTER 15
Noa
“Julien!” I was on my knees, dripping icy water all over his thick pile of blankets. Grabbing for his hand. Breathing in when his fingers curled weakly against mine. I was pretty sure the second time I said his name, I was sobbing. The ugly sobbing that always made people cringe. “You… you…”
“Me… me…”
“How…”
“Yeah…”
I snorted, rubbed my wet shirt against my nose, and didn’t care that I was a total mess.
Julien looked worse, and I demanded, “How long since you’ve fed?”
He gestured weakly with the hand I wasn’t holding prisoner. A plate lay nearby with the remains of a fish and a… a rabbit.
I swallowed weakly. Not much blood in either. I shot a look at the nymph, kindly, because it wasn’t her fault. “Something sharp?”
She handed me a shell, the edge finely ground. I sliced the tip of my finger. “You know the drill,” I said, dragging the blood across his lips.
He gripped my hand, his fingers shaking. “Use your fangs,” I crooned. “I’ll tell you when to stop.” I was prepared to let him drink until I got dizzy.
He tipped my wrist, bit gently, his fangs sliding in until a soft euphoria rushed. I gasped, panted with each throbbing pull. But Julien fed only for a minute before he fell back, exhausted.
Shivers wracked through me. I pushed upright. He needed healing. Needed Grayson. Julien’s eyes were closed, and I didn’t care about the nymph watching as I shucked off my wet clothes and pulled on jeans, rolling the cuffs, then a shirt, flannel, last worn by a male from the stale scent. The nymph held out socks. Nearby was a stack of shoes. Was hoarder a better description than collector, since she clearly had no need for human clothes?
“Thank you.” I was genuinely, eternally grateful to her for Julien. “How long has he been here?”
“I found him on the riverbank six weeks ago. Got him this far. He didn’t like the water, so we walked. Slowly, because he’d had a spear in his side.” She gestured toward the spear, now wedged between the rocks in a corner. “I pulled it out. It made walking easier, but he hasn’t healed.”
My hands were still trembling. Shivers raced beneath my skin. “I didn’t realize nymphs were friendly with vampires.”
“We aren’t. But Julien has been an emissary for the nymphs. He was worth saving.”
“An emissary for the wolves, too.” Julien’s righteous, rebellious streak, according to his sire, that made his life difficult. I twisted back toward the vampire. His eyes were open. “You… I watched you die.” My voice wobbled.
His smile grew crooked. “Tougher than that.”
“Yeah, yeah, the big bad vamp.” Tears stung, but I forced a smile. “You weren’t there for my grand finale.”
“Did you blow everything up?” he teased weakly.
“Almost.” I rolled my eyes. “But you… weren’t... there.”
He groaned, shifting his weight more onto his side. Wrinkles mussed his clothes, but the material was clean, other than the bloodstain on his shirt.
“May I look?” I asked, and at his nod, I lifted his shirt. The spear wound was ugly, red, bruised, oozing, and clearly not healing. I touched his skin, unusually hot and dry.
“Silver covered the blade,” he grunted. “Burning… everything.”
“Silver burns you?”
“Poison. Disables a vampire within a minute, but not enough to kill. Just… burns.” He breathed in through his teeth; his fangs hadn’t yet retracted. But his color was better. I guessed he hadn’t fed from the nymph, although her blood might not be useful to vampires. More likely, after she’d saved him, he’d refused to ask. Not for a donation if she hadn’t offered.
“What can I do?”
