Night's Honor (A Novel of the Elder Races Book 7)

Time blurred, and one donor replaced another. Movement happened around the periphery of her awareness, as police officials investigated the scene. One approached her to say, “We need to take your statement about what happened.”

 

 

“Later,” she said. She knelt at Xavier’s head, still stroking his hair, in case some part of him was aware of her presence. He could disappear at any moment, just collapse into dust. The possibility was unimaginable—that he could be there in one moment, and completely gone in the next.

 

“Ma’am, there’s nothing you can do for him right now. He’s getting the best care available. If you would just come with me to answer some questions.”

 

While the clueless policeman didn’t necessarily sound unkind, she barely managed to keep from drawing the Glock and shooting him.

 

Oh, life had certainly changed, now that she had a gun and knew how to use it.

 

Lifting her head to meet his gaze, she said in a soft voice, “Get out of my face.”

 

Something in her expression made him pull back sharply. “You’re understandably upset. I’ll check with you again in a bit.”

 

Forgetting about him as soon as he stepped out of her radar, she asked one of the paramedics, “How do we know how he’s doing?”

 

“I’ve never personally handled a brodifacoum poisoning before, but there’s a survivability factor that’s called magic hour.” The paramedic sounded both brisk and sympathetic. “If he makes it through a full hour, he’ll survive.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “He wouldn’t have made it this far without your quick action.”

 

Wiping her face on her shoulder, she nodded. “How much time has gone by?”

 

“Twenty-one minutes.”

 

It felt like a lifetime already.

 

Only thirty-nine more minutes of hell to go.

 

Raoul and Julian arrived, bringing with them an influx of new, sharp-eyed armed Vampyres that washed through the alley like a wave. Raoul ran to the stretcher, and the look on his face brought fresh tears to her eyes.

 

After taking in Xavier’s curled up form, Raoul gripped her shoulder as he took in her appearance. “You look like you bathed in blood. Are you hurt?”

 

Blinking hard, she said, “No.”

 

Have you said anything to anyone about what happened? he asked telepathically.

 

She shook her head.

 

Good job.

 

I didn’t do it on purpose. I’ve been busy. She touched Xavier’s temple.

 

Raoul’s gaze fell to the movement and widened. Before he could say anything, Julian joined them. The rough angles of the Nightkind King’s face were cut with fury.

 

Tell me what happened, Julian commanded.

 

She couldn’t put Julian off like she had the policeman. Reluctantly, she focused on him. It was Justine. Diego died before he could tell me much, but from what he said, Justine bribed him to get Xavier to come into the city. He thought. . . . She swallowed. Even though she’d had nothing to do with the conspiracy, she found it surprisingly hard to say the next words while looking directly at Julian. Diego said he had thought Justine was going to try a coup in Evenfall. Instead, she went after Xavier. He was her target.

 

The Nightkind King’s gaze bored into hers. How did you survive?

 

She shook her head. Sheer dumb luck? I shot a few of them, but Xavier killed almost everyone who attacked us. If any of them lived, they only did so because they ran away. They clearly meant to kill all of us—they almost hit the SUV with a rocket launcher.

 

That wasn’t sheer dumb luck, Julian told her. He saved your life. He could have left you and Diego behind at any moment. Instead, he stayed to fight. They knew he would, and that’s how they got him. If it had worked, none of you would have been around to tell what had happened.

 

She hadn’t had time to absorb everything, but as soon as he said it, she knew it was true. Overcome, she glanced down at Xavier’s still face.

 

She murmured, I had no idea I could come to care for him so much.

 

She hadn’t meant to say it. She certainly hadn’t meant to confess that to the Nightkind King, of all people.

 

He’s the best man I know, Julian said. I wouldn’t have anybody else in his position, or trust them to make the kinds of decisions he makes every day. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never once lost his moral compass. A shadow crossed his rough face. Not like so many of the rest of us have, from time to time.

 

Surprised by Julian’s candor, Tess stared up at him. He genuinely, deeply cared for Xavier, and it showed on his tense, worried face. From across the alley, someone called out to him, and he strode away.

 

“Just a few more minutes to go,” said the paramedic. “I need a new donor. Don’t tell me we’ve already used everybody.”

 

“I’m new.” Raoul held out his arm. “Use me.”

 

Xavier stirred underneath her hands and whispered, “Querida.”

 

She had never felt gladness as such an extreme emotion. It brought her to her knees. Laying her head on the stretcher beside his, facing him, she whispered, “I’m here.”

 

He appeared dazed, and his normally sharp, clear gaze looked clouded. “You’re upside down.”

 

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