Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)

“Drink it all,” he instructed firmly.

I breathed in, then nodded, before holding my nose and downing it as quickly as I could. I almost spat it back out as it burned down my throat, but somehow, I managed to force it down.

To my astonishment, the effect was almost instant. I felt the last of the mist clear from my eyes, the headache disappeared, and I felt… quite normal. Cold, but normal.

“Wow,” I said. “That really worked.”

Navan nodded, then took the bottle back from me. He wiped it with a cloth that had been tucked into one corner of the trunk, and then replaced it, closing the lid of the trunk.

He moved closer to me, and pulled out a tiny flashlight from the bag around his shoulder, which he shone into my eyes. “Seems to have worked—for now at least…” He hesitated.

“What?” I asked.

He sighed, and that same look of guilt I’d detected in him earlier when he’d talked about my ordeal returned. “I’ve been reluctant to say it, but… you ought to know that you will likely feel the consequences of drinking that silver root for the rest of your life.”

I stared at him. “Wh-What? What do you mean?”

“Silver root is strong. It can have a negative impact on even a coldblood’s brain if he or she consumes too much. A known side effect of overconsumption, aside from nausea, is increased susceptibility to stimulants in general, as it weakens resistance levels. Being a human, you only needed a small dose to be severely affected by it, and as a result, I would advise you to be very careful when consuming anything with addictive qualities in the future… Even food could become a problem, if you allow yourself to overeat.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you switched the two vials like that without me noticing.”

My lips parted as I absorbed his words. It felt as if he’d punched me in the gut. Thanks to my dear parents, I had no desire to ingest anything remotely intoxicating, now or in the future, but the thought that this entire ordeal had left me more susceptible, more vulnerable than I already was, played on an insecurity that was already so raw in my heart and mind, it was hard to stop my hands from shaking. My confidence was already fragile, a timid thing that I worked hard every day to nourish and protect. The idea that even food could end up becoming a vice if I wasn’t careful was frightening.

“I’m sorry,” Navan said. “It was good you caught Jethro and Ianthan, but… I wish you had just taken the Elysium like I wanted you to.”

Despite the shock and the whirlwind of emotions I was struggling under, I managed to find a thread of reassurance in his empathetic gaze, and reel my mind back in. I got the uncanny sense that he understood what I was going through, but more than that, his presence reminded me of what I had just been thinking about, barely a few minutes ago—if he could maintain his character in spite of all the massive obstacles he faced, then there was no reason why I couldn’t.

The thought calmed me. “Okay.”

Navan took a breath, then nodded, switching his focus to a patch of snow six feet ahead of us, further around the side of the rock. “Let’s keep moving,” he said softly. “This was just a storage cupboard.”

I kept hold of his arm as we approached the patch of ground his eyes were set on, where another trap door lay hidden in the ground.

He exhaled sharply as we reached it, his arm muscles tensing. The snow had already been cleared away from the door.

“That’s not possible,” Navan breathed.

He swooped down and yanked open the door, shining his flashlight to reveal a much larger space beneath—an actual room.

He withdrew his wings into his back and dropped through the hole, followed swiftly by Ianthan, and I found myself crouching, staring down after them. It was… empty.

“Where is all of my stuff? How could anyone have known about this?” he exclaimed. “Everything’s gone. Every last damn thing!”

“There’s a light!” Ianthan said suddenly, pointing to a door in the far corner of the room. Indeed, light was shining through the cracks—dim and warm, like candlelight.

Navan fell silent and rushed to the door, but before he could grab the handle, it swung open, spilling light into the main room. An old man with a long, bedraggled white beard and a grubby once-beige coat emerged in the doorframe, a gin bottle hanging in one hand. He looked just as surprised as Navan. Barking ensued, and a husky dog came padding out of the room, stopping beside the man.

“Who are you?” the old man slurred. “Is there a party I didn’t know about?” He raised his bottle like he was making a toast, sloshing liquid down his arm. He didn’t appear to notice. Nor did he appear to notice Navan and Ianthan’s grayish skin.

“Party? No, there’s no party!” Navan grabbed the old man by his collar. “Who are you? What are you doing here? What did you do with all of my things?”

“Things? Are there things down here?” The man tried to twist around but couldn’t escape Navan’s grip.

Navan gritted his teeth. “There’s nothing down here anymore.”

“I got no home to call my own, you see. Found this lil old hole in the ground—door was open and I climbed right inside!” He grinned, looking pleased with himself at the discovery, before taking a gluttonous swig from his bottle. “Thought it was my lucky day. I don’t have too many of those, you can probably tell.”

Navan let go. It was obvious this man, who could barely stand on his own two feet, was not the thief. “Maybe it is your lucky day,” Navan said. “Why don’t you take off.”

“I think I will, seeing as I’m not welcome here no more,” the old man mumbled, shuffling over to the ladder and climbing up it. He swayed dangerously, and I was afraid he was going to fall before he made it to the top, but he managed, and I moved aside to let him pass. He cast one lazy glance over me in the gloom, before turning back around to call down, “Mind passing Charlie up, would you?”

Navan had disappeared into the second room, but Ianthan passed the husky up to the guy, and with that, he headed off into the snow, his dog trotting along by his side, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he’d just been in close quarters with a couple of vampires. At least we didn’t have to bother with Elysium with him—he had his own bottled version.

I stared after the retreating silhouettes for a moment, hoping he’d make it to the nearby town before freezing to death, but I couldn’t dwell on his well-being for long; we had bigger things to worry about right now.

Such as the safety of the entire human race.

I looked back down through the trap door to see Navan had reemerged from the second room and was prowling around like a caged animal, running his hands through his hair.