Chapter Twenty-Seven
We drove straight to The Viewer’s Lounge, the restaurant used as the front for the seethe. One of the bouncers jumped out to take Nik's keys and park the car. Another ran around the side of the car to let me out, his free hand holding up a large umbrella. Umbrellas are not common sights around Olympia despite the continual moisture falling from the sky. Most people residing in Western Washington simply grew gills and flippers. It's easier that way. Nonetheless, I was thankful. My clothing had just reached the point of what I might call dry.
I allowed him to escort me to the door of the restaurant with Nik and Josh following. I wondered if I would receive this treatment if I wasn't with Nik. Doubt it. The car zoomed off toward some unknown parking lot while we entered the restaurant, the evening guests chatting quietly while their eyes occasionally flickered toward the enormous screen. Being Saturday night, it was packed with eaters and drinkers alike. Like the food, I had heard they served wonderful beverages—the kind that make you want to hug everyone in sight.
I held my breath, knowing full well just how hungry I was. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had any blood. I tried not to think about it. Instead, I practiced reciting the basic list of prepositions in my head as a distraction. It didn't work very well. Really, all it did was remind me how long it had been since high school. I got to “before” and gave up.
As we neared the partition a woman in a skimpy red dress bumped into me. She smiled drunkenly and tried to apologize. From this short distance, I could hear her heartbeat. My teeth descended faster than ever before. There was no slow building toward the breaking point. I was vaguely in control and then I was not. Simple as that.
I grabbed her and began to pull her next to my waiting mouth when Nik jumped forward and spun her toward the nearest table and out of my tight grasp. Josh held me by the waist as I tried to hold on to her arm and dragged me behind the partition. I'm sure I had left bruises on her pale arms. Josh pushed me through the door. A second later Nik was following us down the steps.
I didn't want to ask, but I had to know. “Did you kill her?”
“No. She's too drunk and it happened very quickly. She won't remember anything tomorrow,” Nik said in a cold voice.
We descended the stairs into the concrete bunker and entered the main room. For once, Mikhail was nowhere in sight. In fact, most of the room was empty. A few people I didn't know sat on one of the couches near a fireplace. They looked up at our entrance, one even standing.
“Go get Mikhail,” Nik ordered. The person standing rushed out of the room in a blur of color. While we waited, I went to the nearest leather couch and curled up into a small ball. I was having trouble ignoring the hunger and thirst that refused to go away. My chest felt tight, my breathing was speeding up, and my fangs were still pressing against my lips.
I had fangs. When was that going to stop feeling so incredibly strange? I tried to shake my head, clearing it of the haze created by the hunger. On top of all this, my wounded leg burned and my back throbbed despite the lack of a heartbeat. I felt drained of life.
To my complete annoyance, Nik knelt beside the couch and began examining my leg. I have to admit, he was very gentle this time; that didn't mean his examination was painless. I wanted to give him a stout kick in the head. Thankfully, Mikhail entered before I could muster up the energy. It was probably good, considering how much my leg already hurt.
The primus took one look at me and a low growl issued from his chest. “Get her someone to drink.”
I whimpered at the thought. I was too tired and in too much pain to think of a more profound argument. The longer I went without blood, the more my wounds hurt. Even the cut on my cheek was on fire. I heard Nik sigh before speaking. “A blood bag.”
“She'll heal faster with fresh blood,” argued Mikhail. I saw Nik shake his head. Mikhail waved his hand at the person who was preparing to fetch me a human. “What happened?”
“We found Emma's antiques,” Nik replied, motioning to the blocks of ice placed on a table.
I couldn't remember who had carried them in. Probably Josh and the bouncer. They were melting very slowly.
“Periphetes stole them from the Louvre a couple decades ago. We stole it from him, but his house was booby trapped in the magical sense. We all got pretty banged up.”
“Then why is she still hurt?”
“She wouldn't drink from a human.”
“Nikolai,” Mikhail sighed, drawing out his name.
“She's… obstinate,” Nik said, by way of explanation.
“Then you're well matched,” commented Mikhail just as the other man entered with the blood bag. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to jump off the couch and tear it from his hands or tear off his hands. The man brought the bag to me. I sunk my teeth through the plastic and slurped frantically at the cold liquid. He set a second bag next to me. While I drank, Mikhail inspected the blocks of ice.
“You say Periphetes had these?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Explains the ice,” Mikhail commented. “And he wasn't there?”
“Thankfully, no. I hadn't expected his private home to be so well fortified. Had he been there I doubt we would have escaped,” explained Nik.
“You got careless. I thought you were beyond that, Nikolai.”
Over the edge of my blood bag, I watched Nik cringe and took a certain level of pleasure from it. Evidently even he was not too old to get a lecture from papa bear. Nik didn't respond. Clearly, he knew better than I did when to shut up. I always argued with a lecture.
“Still,” continued Mikhail, “you did get the items and no one died. But does that mean you are capable of taking further care of Ashley?”
I sat up, snagging the second bag. The first bag had returned a sense of life to my bones; the second, I knew would start the healing process. My leg no longer burned and my back no longer throbbed. Would Mikhail really put someone else in charge of me? The prospect of a new, less frustrating babysitter sounded wonderful. Then again, the next person could be even more exasperating. Besides, Nikolai had proven himself more than once, despite his personal desire to end my life himself. Sure, we'd had a few disagreements, but he had kept me alive. And in the end, which was more important—life or annoyance?
Nik returned Mikhail's glare. “Who else could keep her alive? Will you take on the chore yourself?” I recoiled from his choice of words. Did he have to call me a “chore?” “You know perfectly well no one else could handle this,” Nik added.
Mikhail's eyes narrowed for a long moment before he suddenly burst into laughter. “Ah, Nik, I should put you out of my misery, but I enjoy your company too damn much.” He flung his arm over Nik's shoulders and patted his far arm. “Let's give Emma the stuff so she'll get the hell out of here. Her little favor has created enough trouble.” Mikhail turned to me, forcing Nik to do the same by his grasp.
“Feeling better?”
I nodded.
Mikhail didn't wait for my response. He was already turning toward the man still waiting by the door. “Fetch Miss Tanner.”
The man scurried away. Nik ducked out of Mikhail's friendly clutches and came to sit on the couch next to me.
Emma breezed into the room, the messenger following a little more slowly. She wore a tan dress with a thin black belt at her waist and bright red shoes. Her brown hair was done up in a curly ponytail. She stopped a few feet in and glanced around the room, pausing in her perusal to stare confusedly at the blocks of ice.
“We have found your antiques,” announced Mikhail, signaling Josh who brought one block of ice forward. “Minus the codpiece.”
“I can live without that, but why is it dripping?” she asked in a disgusted voice.
“A winter fae had it. The effects of his last ward are slow to wear off.”
“Very well. Have them wrapped and placed in my car. I will be out of your hair before the night is over.”
“Always glad to hear it,” smirked M
ikhail.
“Nikolai, I hope you will return my visit soon,” purred Emma before sauntering out through the elegant double doors. A few helpful individuals hauled her dripping loot.
“Now, Nik,” began Mikhail. “I want you to figure out the mystery surrounding Ashley.”
“No one's tried to take me in the last twenty-four hours,” I grumbled. “Maybe they're not interested in me anymore.”
Nik shook his head. “They're just waiting for the right moment.”
“Keep her safe, Nikolai. Until I say otherwise, she is the only thing that matters in your life.”
I felt Nik's eyes on me, and could only imagine the frustrated thoughts working through his head. Then again, I was making his life complicated. I had spent the last couple days giving him grief while he got beaten up; he had endured a broken ankle, dislocated shoulder, and who knows how many gashes for me. Why couldn’t I just be grateful?
I glanced at him. I couldn't help it. A new level of guilt weighed down on me. He was still staring at me, with a look that made me uncomfortable. If I had a pulse, it probably would have sped up. I thought he was ready to snap my neck then and there, despite Mikhail's orders.
“C’mon,” Nik said as he got up. “Let's go by your place and have you pack a bag. No sense in continuing these trips back and forth. Josh, stay here and rest. We won’t be long.”
“Except for that whole feeding my cat thing,” I said sarcastically.
“I can get someone to do that for you,” offered Josh.