Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)

He looked a little hesitant, but didn’t argue; he was that tired. He discarded his large black boots by the door, and tugged off his sweaters—both the old one and the new one he had pulled on top of it—hanging them on a chair. My chewing slowed as I took in his deep tanned chest, the scars crisscrossing it much more visible with this lighter skin shade. He moved to the bed and lay down on one side of it—the side nearest the door—and faced the ceiling. I wanted to ask about his scars, but now didn’t seem like the right time.

I settled deeper into my chair and resumed eating, watching as Navan made himself comfortable. He didn’t bother pulling the sheets or the blanket over him, seemingly content with the temperature; just stretched out his long legs, which caused his big feet to tip over the edge of the bed, and nestled his head into the pillows. The muscles in his arms relaxed, and he went still, except for the gentle heave and sigh of his chest.

I finished my sandwiches slowly, my eyes alternating between the view out of the window and the… view on the bed. I ate four sandwiches and two bananas in a row, and finished the rest of the water.

I tiptoed to the bathroom to relieve myself, before splashing water on my face and looking at myself in the mirror. It came as no surprise that I looked like a witch. Apparently, I didn’t weather journeys as well as Navan. Dark bags hung under my eyes, and my hair had gone static, poking up at all angles, while my skin was parched and lips dried out to the point of cracking.

I stepped into the shower to wash my hair and scrub the general grime from my body, relishing the hot water beating down on my back. I changed into a set of the new clothes we’d picked up from the market—warm pants, a long-sleeved thermal top, and a fleecy sweater. I found a small bottle of skin cream in the bathroom cabinet and lathered it onto my face and hands, before blow drying my hair. By the time I was done, I felt perfectly ready for bed. Except, there was no bed for me to climb into, unless I planned on sharing it with a vampire.

I opened the bathroom door. To my surprise, Navan was still awake. His eyes were open as he stared at the ceiling, but flickered in my direction as I stepped into the room.

“Hey,” I said. “Can’t sleep?”

“I thought I’d be out before my head hit the pillow. But I can’t get my mind to shut up.”

I moved slowly around the bed, and sat down on the other side of it, propping my back up against the headboard and leaning against the pillows. He reached down to his bag and pulled out a silver vial. He downed it, leaving me wondering whether it was a snack of blood, or perhaps something that would help him sleep.

I gave it a few minutes before talking again, wanting him to drift off, but although his eyelids dropped every now and then, they kept opening, as if there were something on his mind that was keeping him from shutting down.

Eventually, he turned on his side and looked at me. “What else did you overhear, in that conversation between Ianthan and his father?” he asked.

“Oh, um. I didn’t overhear much because I wasn’t listening for long, but…” I ran through in my mind what I had already told him, trying to sift out the pieces of new information. I realized there was something important that had been troubling me. I hadn’t had a chance to think about it much with so many other distractions. “Jethro said that Vysanthe will find out about Earth and humans sooner or later—that it’s only a matter of time before they crack the ship technology, like you and Jethro did. So his argument was that they might as well benefit from the discovery of human blood being the elixir Vysanthe seeks, as it was going to happen anyway.”

Navan exhaled, running a hand down his face.

“Is it true?” I asked quietly. “That they’ll discover the technology sooner or later?”

“Of course, it’s possible. Though, given my rank as a chief explorer, even if the technology developed to reach this far into the universe, I would have authority to direct teams to other quadrants, and keep them away from Earth. But that would be by no means failsafe. It would only take one rogue, one disobedient team—or a team from Queen Brisha’s side—to become curious and land here…” He looked away, his jaw tightening. “Ultimately, there is little one man—or a few men—can do to thwart an entire race, especially one as savage as mine. All I know is that I have to do my part in preventing it—in delaying that day as long as possible. It’s all any of us can do.”

I gulped. “Right.” That was worrying, to say the least. To think that we could go to all this trouble to get Navan’s ship repaired, only to have the coldbloods invent their own ship and discover Earth a few months or years later. Still, Navan was right. What else could we do but try? Maybe, after we had retrieved the blood sample, we could brainstorm ways to at least prepare Earth for the possibility. Maybe we would have to tell humans about coldbloods after all, in order to allow Earth’s leaders to prepare for their arrival. I could take Navan and Bashrik to meet them as proof.

But, one step at a time. The most pressing matter was the blood sample—my blood sample—that was currently on its merry way to Vysanthe.

Gazing at Navan, I wondered again what was driving him to help us. What was stopping him from doing a Jethro, and selling us out for an easier life. He had mentioned guilt before, but what guilt could be so strong as to drive him to such sacrifices for the sake of a species that had no connection to him? A species that, up until recently, he didn’t even know existed.

“Navan,” I ventured, knowing that talking to him wasn’t going to help him fall asleep, but I couldn’t help myself now. “Do you mind telling me why you’re doing this for us? You’re putting yourself out in a major way. It would be much easier for you to, you know…” I trailed off, seeing that he had caught my drift.

He sat up against the pillows, his head rising to be more level with mine, and grimaced. “Do you remember during our first ‘question and answer’ session, I told you about an alchemist who came up with the Immortality Theory? The man who caused this whole frenzy of coldbloods seeking out the blood of far-flung lands?”

I nodded.

His face darkened. “That alchemist was my father.”

I stared at him, my lips parting. “Oh.”

“You remember I told you that originally I was an alchemist, too? Before I switched professions and became an explorer?”

“Yes,” I said uncertainly.