He wouldn’t mind, I assured her. And I needed it.
She didn’t understand I was developing an immunity to it, and the more antidote I used, the faster that immunity would build, so she found nothing suspicious about the request. To her, it was medicine, and I was entitled to medicine.
“Found it,” Nana said as she strolled inside the room. She lifted the black medical bag for my perusal before setting it beside me on the bed. She was smiling, always smiling. Until she looked at me.
Nowadays, no one but Cole smiled when they looked at me.
“You’re the best, Nana.”
“Of course I am. I’m partly responsible for your creation.” Tapping a fingertip against my wrist, she said, “Ali, darling, when were you going to tell me about your tattoos?”
Uh-oh. “Are you mad?” I asked softly.
“No, but you’re a minor and I would have liked to be a part of the decision.”
“Well.” If I survived the coming events, and I would...confidence matters...I might as well warn her about tattoos three and four. “I would like to get two more.”
“What? And why?”
I explained about the slayers, and the memorials they had etched on their bodies, and her expression softened. I told her how badly I wanted to honor Pops, but left the details of the fourth tattoo vague. It had to do with Cole...
“All right,” she said with a sigh. “I give my permission. But next time, I’m going with you. Now, should I inject you with the medicine? I’ve never used a needle before, but I’ve watched a lot of TV, so I’m just sure I’ll do it right.”
“Sure, just—” My gaze had locked on her neck...on her pulse, glowing so prettily, beating so softly, wafting the sweetest scent to my nose.
Shuddering, I closed my eyes. When it came to the protection of the people I loved, I was stronger than I’d ever realized. But right now I wasn’t going to take any chances.
“Are you all right, dear?” she asked, flattening her hand over my brow. “You do feel warm.”
I hissed at the moment of contact.
Bite her, Z.A. whispered.
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just... Nana, I love you so much, but I need to be alone right now. I’m going to inject myself, okay?”
“I love you, too,” she said, but I heard the hurt in her tone. “And I’ll give you your privacy, but please don’t shut me out.” She kissed my cheek before striding from the room.
My hand shook as I dug through the bag, withdrawing one, three, six specially marked syringes. The ones with the antiallergy antidote. I stuck myself in the arm, again and again, and felt the familiar warm tide. Z.A. screeched, then quieted. The urge to bite and feed left me. And, with the massive amount of the dose, Z.A. was no longer able to feed off me, and energy returned to my body. The trembling faded from my limbs.
Testing my range of motion, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood. I remained steady, my knees rock-solid. I stretched my arms over my head, then twisted from the left to the right. No pain. No weakness.
It had worked.
For the past few days, I’d had to suffer through the humiliation of Nana’s sponge baths. Once, when I had been whining about my desire for a shower, Cole had picked me up and carried me into the stall. He’d gotten in with me, holding me up, and we’d washed with our undergarments on.
All I could say about that: if I’d been well, I wouldn’t be a virgin.
Today, though, I showered on my own. After drying off, I dressed in my fighting clothes. Long-sleeve black top, camo pants and combat boots. My weapons had been moved into Reeve’s room with me, more for my peace of mind than anything, and I loaded up with daggers and throwing stars.