Natalya opened her eyes, revealing bright scarlet irises that drilled into Evie’s gaze so intensely it sucked the air from her lungs. Fear, already present from thinking Natalya was dead, grew to be the only recognizable feeling in her body. It swallowed the relief, the sadness, everything.
It made Evie scream.
She crawled backward as Natalya did the same. Evie was panting, panic gripping her chest hard enough that she thought she was having a heart attack.
Across the room, pressed into the corner of the shower, Natalya stared at her. Like a wounded animal caught in a snare.
It took several long moments before the terror waned enough that Evie could think about anything else. She recalled the fear she’d felt in Varro’s guest room when Natalya made eye contact with her. Then, Natalya’s eyes had grabbed at her strongest emotion and amplified it. The same thing happened here, except much more intense. Evie had been so afraid Natalya was gone, and looking into her scarlet eyes made it worse.
It wasn’t real. It wasn’t true emotion. It was a manufactured thing, conjured by Natalya in a panic. Realizing it let Evie push against the feeling, forcing it down.
It didn’t vanish entirely. Some of the fear remained, laced with painful worry.
Evie moved back towards the shower. Natalya was shaking. Her teeth were clattering.
“Stay back,” she said tightly. Evie stopped.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’ll heal.” Natalya turned on the water again, gasping when it hit her. She was bleeding everywhere.
“Should I get someone? Aleksander or—”
“No!” Natalya’s eyes were furious. “They can’t come. They can’t see.”
Only then did Evie realize. Natalya’s dress was cut to pieces, baring her back and sides. Several small wounds, oozing black blood, littered her skin.
If Evie got help, they would see her marks, at least parts of them.
“You’re bleeding,” Evie said, horrified at the amount still seeping out of her.
“It’s not blood. It’s ichor. Life force.” Natalya grimaced in pain. “The wounds are filled with sanctified salt. I can’t heal until it’s gone. The water helps. Dissolves it faster.”
“You looked dead.” Evie’s voice was trembling. “When I got here… You were cold and…”
She covered her mouth with her hand. She wanted desperately to go to Natalya. To hold her and make sure she was alright. To help. But she didn’t dare move closer.
“You need togo,” Natalya said. “Somewhere else. Somewhere that isn’t here. Give me a week. Maybe two. Then I’ll have healed.”
A week? Natalya would have to spend aweeklike this? Shivering in pain and oozing ichor all over the floor?
“Please let me help. Do you need to kiss me? I can—”
“No.” Natalya’s eyes shined with flame. “Leave, Evie. You can’t see me like this.”
Shaking. In pain. Vulnerable. She wanted to be strong, and right then, she couldn’t be. She didn’t want Evie to see her not perfectly in control.
Why? Because it would ruin the image Evie had of her? Of the powerful fiend who could make vampires collapse just by looking at them? In a way, it did. Though the image didn’t break, it extended. It deepened.
Natalya was powerful. One of the most powerful beings Evie had ever met. She was commanding, assertive, and strong. If that was all Natalya was to someone, then seeing her like this would ruin their perception of her.
It didn’t for Evie.
She had been imprisoned just like Evie. She’d experienced pain and horrors, same as Evie, if not more profound. Despite that, she hadn’t turned cruel or cold. She was gentle and warm and the biggest worrier Evie had ever met.
Those were the characteristics Evie felt safe with. The ones that made butterflies flutter in her stomach. The parts of Natalya that had made her fall in lo—
Evie stopped the thought before it could fully form.
