Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)

“Mine too,” Lauren added.

Navan exhaled sharply. “That bowl of vials contained a mixture of substances. What you two most likely drank was the blood of white deer—which, although a species native to Vysanthe, shouldn’t have much of an effect on you earthlings. On the other hand, it sounds like what Riley drank was silver root—a type of stimulant, similar to coffee for us coldbloods, but much too strong for human consumption. It seems like it took a while for the effects to kick in, as it’s known to be a slow-acting substance, but now…” His voice trailed off, and his silence frightened me.

“Now what?” I choked, nearly blind as the mist thickened over my eyes.

“Navan,” Ianthan’s hoarse voice spoke up from somewhere to my right. “Go to Alaska now, and you can kill two birds with one stone. Fetch your tools and take the girl with you to fix up. You have a loaded apothecary in storage, don’t you? I’m sure you can figure out an antidote with the ingredients you have there.”

There was a pause and I heard Navan take a deep breath. “I can’t be mad at you, because if you had taken the Elysium, we’d have no clue about Jethro and Ianthan. Also, Ianthan’s right—I’ve got the ingredients I need for an antidote. You’re going to be okay, Riley. But you, Ianthan.” His voice took on a harder edge. “I still haven’t decided what to do with you. I’m not letting you out my sight—you will travel with us. Lauren and Angie, you’ll need to take care of Bashrik, as well as be here for Ronad in case he needs assistance. His treatment is mostly complete now, but it’ll be several days before his strength has returned. I’ll extract the bullet out of Bashrik, and then give you some medication to feed him—I have a small stock in the ship that I will leave you with, along with instructions.”

“What will we tell the Churnleys?! How long will you be gone for?” Angie asked.

I heard Navan swallow. “I don’t know what you’ll tell them, but we won’t be gone much longer than twenty-four hours…I hope.”





Chapter Twelve





Angie helped me into a chair, and I was mostly in a daze as Navan and Ianthan darted about the yard, between the ship and the house, preparing to leave. I could tell what was going on primarily by my sense of hearing, given that my eyesight remained blurry.

I heard Bashrik groan as Navan extracted the bullet, and then Navan spoke in hurried tones regarding an assortment of ointments he was leaving with the girls.

What felt like fifteen minutes and a lot of confusion later, Navan and Ianthan had made the necessary preparations, and I sensed them approaching. Through my hazy vision, I could see that Navan had washed the blood off of himself, and had a black shoulder bag slung over his back. Ianthan was clutching what appeared to be a thick puffer coat.

Navan bent down to tug some sort of shirt over me, and then picked me up. I flinched, expecting his unbearable heat to course through me once again and cause my head to split in two, but to my surprise, his temperature was moderate—on the warm side, but more than bearable.

“Wh-What happened?” I managed, as one of his arms slid beneath my knees, the other around my waist. He picked me up and held me against his chest, and I put my arms around his neck for extra stability. Though my vision was still blurry, I felt… inexplicably safe in his arms. Ordinarily, I would’ve insisted on walking on my own two feet, but I was too woozy to pretend that I could even stand, and the gentleness of his touch made my whole body relax.

“I don’t want you to be any more uncomfortable than you already are,” he explained. “I took a formula to help regulate my temperature while I carry you.”

“Wait,” I said, as his wings appeared behind his back. “You’re going to fly with me all the way to Alaska?” I hadn’t fully processed the thought till now.

“I’m afraid the last train has already left the station. It’s the only way we can reach it.”

“Riley!” Lauren called. She and Angie approached me, and I felt their hands squeeze mine. “Please be careful.”

“If we hurry, she should make it,” Navan replied, and a second later, my friends’ touch left me as he lifted into the air, Ianthan by our side. My stomach dropped. I had barely murmured “Goodbye” before I felt the air rush past me as we broke through the treetops, the heat of the afternoon sun beating down on my skin.

I wanted to look down, to see how high we had flown, whether I could spot the Churnleys’ little wooden house already, but I could hardly see past a few feet—even Navan’s face, mere inches above mine, was a strain to make out.

But maybe that was a good thing. As we soared higher, I shivered, imagining just how many feet must be between us and the ground. Navan’s speed was breathtaking, and given that there were no straps securing me to him—except for his own arms and mine around his neck—my lack of sight was probably something to be thankful for.

I wanted to ask him questions, like how long he thought it was going to take us to reach his “base” in Alaska, what he even meant by “base,” and how he had one there—as well as what would happen to me if his antidote failed to work—but with each second that passed, I found myself less and less able to formulate coherent thoughts, as though my brain were disconnecting from my mind.

I didn’t lose consciousness, not completely, but I felt myself slipping into a heady, almost dreamlike state. I hadn’t swallowed a drop of alcohol my whole life, but I imagined this was close to how being intoxicated must feel—like I was floating on a lazy river, anything anxiety-inducing too slippery to hold on to. I closed my eyes as the pain in my head faded, and I felt lighter than my body, as though I might at any moment simply be blown out of it by the wind.

It was unnerving, and I tried to grab a hold of something, anything, yet my arms remained still—then I remembered they were already wrapped around Navan’s strong neck, and while I was being held in his arms like this, there was no chance of anything bad happening to me.