nightrise

by Nell Stark

  And then she collapsed to the floor.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Moments later, she began to convulse. I rushed across the hall and nearly panicked at the sight of the red-flecked foam that had collected at the corners of her mouth. As quickly as the spasms had come, they abated. Her body was still.

  “Oh God, Val.”

  Hastily, I felt for breathing and a pulse before turning her onto her side so she wouldn’t choke. Her vital signs seemed strong, but Solana had never mentioned anything about going into seizures. Then again, she had probably been unconscious for this part, too.

  I scrambled for my phone and punched speed dial for Karma. “It’s done. She passed out, but she had some sort of seizure.”

  The sounds of the street filtered through the receiver as Karma updated the others. In another moment, Solana had taken her place. “Is she breathing?”

  “Yes. Are you at the door?”

  “We are.”

  “I’ll let you in as soon as I figure out how it works.” I hung up and scanned the wall for some kind of intercom, finally finding one just off the kitchen. After buzzing them inside, I knelt beside Val and ran my fingers lightly through her hair, my heart throbbing rapidly in time with my arm.

  “Your last thought was that I’d betrayed you,” I murmured. “But you’re going to wake up from this, and when you do, I hope you can see things differently. I hope you can understand why I did it.”

  A tear fell from the corner of my eye onto her cheek, and I smoothed the tiny drop into her skin. “There was a time when you wanted me, and only me, for eternity. And I let you down by going away and putting your soul in jeopardy. So this is my chance, sweetheart—my chance to give you back the only thing you’ve actively chosen since you were turned. Me. Us. Ever after.”

  The front door chimed and I reluctantly left Val’s side long enough to answer it. Solana went to Val immediately.

  “How is she?” Karma asked.

  But Olivia was staring at me in horror. “Christ, Alexa, you look like you’ve been mauled! What did she do to you?”

  Her reaction wasn’t exactly unfounded. I was a mess. My dress was in disarray and a stream of blood had caked on my neck and collarbone. My eyes were probably red and puffy. I raised one hand, hoping to calm her down, only to notice that my fingers were trembling.

  Karma was now looking at me in concern. “Alexa, how much did she take?”

  “Not very much,” I said, then winced as a streak of shooting pain traveled along my arm. “The scar is starting to feel worse, though. And I’m very thirsty.”

  Olivia stalked to the kitchen, and a moment later I heard the tap running. Karma laid the back of her hand to my forehead. “You’re warm.”

  I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of Val. “Once I shift, I’ll be fine. How is she, Solana?”

  “As well as can be expected. I am not worried.”

  “That makes one of us,” I said before gratefully accepting the glass of water Olivia held out to me. “How long were you unconscious when you went through this?”

  “Several days,” Solana said. “But remember: I ate the flower’s roots. Valentine has consumed its essence in your blood, and the blood of a Were is the greatest healing elixir I know.”

  “So she might wake sooner.”

  Solana shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  Fire seared up my arm, a sudden blaze so intense I couldn’t hold back a gasp. My panther shoved hard, wanting her claws and teeth instead of this fragile human body. As the pain worsened, her strength grew and mine weakened.

  “Alexa?” Karma was kneeling beside me now, one hand on my knee. Olivia stood over us, her anger displaced by alarm.

  “Need to shift.” I forced the words out between gritted teeth.

  “Can you make it to the Consortium?” she asked.

  “I’ll drive you,” Olivia added.

  I nodded, then cut my gaze to Val. “Please don’t leave her alone.”

  “Of course not.” Karma gently took my right hand and helped me up. “Go. We’ll call you with any updates.”

  Fortunately, Olivia’s car was parked nearby. I focused on breathing deeply and putting one foot in front of the other as the periodic flashes of agony continued. When I slid into the passenger seat, my left arm brushed against the seat back and the resulting spike of pain was so intense that tears leaked down my cheeks.

  Olivia got into the driver’s side, and I braced my good arm against the glove box to hold myself steady as she peeled away from the curb.

  “I’ll try to make this a smooth ride,” she said.

  “Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say, especially given her mercurial moods ever since we’d gotten home. “I mean it, Liv. Thank you. For everything.”

  For a long time, she didn’t reply. I examined her profile as she expertly navigated the late night streets of the East Side—the delicate sweep of her cheekbones, the elegant strength of her jaw. She was beautiful, and in a parallel universe, I could have fallen in love with her. But in this reality, I was claimed. And it didn’t matter that my soul mate was a vampire, or that she was lying on the floor of her apartment a broken, bloody mess. She was mine. I was hers. I would fight for us as long as I had to.

  Olivia pulled up at Consortium Headquarters in record time, and I sighed in relief. But just as I was about to thank her yet again, she spoke.

  “Have dinner with me.”

  Taken aback, I didn’t respond right away. I had just taken extraordinary measures—even for a shifter—to save Valentine. I was bloodied and feverish and my panther was a hairsbreadth away from emerging. And this was the moment she had chosen to ask me on a date?

  “I can’t, Olivia.”

  “Breakfast, then.” She sounded almost desperate. “If Val hasn’t woken up. We can go somewhere near her apartment. I just…I just need to talk to you. Alone.”

  The pain in my arm flared again, and I exhaled sharply. “Okay. Breakfast.” I never would have acquiesced if I hadn’t been in her debt, and my frustration at her insistence only fueled the panther’s urgency. “I’m sorry, but I really have to go now.”

  I didn’t look back as I jogged up the steps and into the building. The receptionist was new, and I had to pause to show her my identification before catching an elevator down to the hunting arena. Once I reached the foyer, I took off my borrowed dress and the right glove. My left arm was so swollen that the other glove was almost cutting into the engorged skin. There was no salvaging it.

  I stepped up to one of the doors and keyed in the code that would unlock it. As it opened, I was greeted by a warm breeze and the scent of flowering grass. For the first time since the full moon, I relaxed my grip on my panther. And I smiled.

  “Uje!”

  Eager to escape the incessant pain, she was upon me in a flash, and I imagined I could feel the flower’s roots disintegrating in the whirlwind of my transformation. As my paws made contact with the springy, moss-covered earth, I crouched low, tail lashing. A jumble of scents quickly resolved: the rich, verdant aroma of growing things; the faint musk of a lynx who had passed this way a few hours ago; the tang of blood from someone’s recent kill.

  A flash of motion to my right caught and held my focus. When I spun toward it, I scented prey—a deer. I leapt into motion, earth churning beneath the pads of my feet. After a zigzagging chase through the forest fringe, the deer bounded into a small clearing. I extended my body in ground-eating strides, determined to use the open space to narrow the gap between us. And then I caught the other scent: a wolf off my left flank, also in pursuit. When I turned my head slightly, a blur of brindle fur was visible though the tall stalks of grass.

  Two predators, one prey. I was not in the mood to share—especially not with a wolf. When Sebastian’s face flickered before my mind’s eye, I snarled and pushed harder.

  The doe reentered the woods and began a dizzying series of cuts back and forth between the closely-knit trees. I followed her, reveling in my
ability to mimic her movements, but the wolf, too, was agile and had managed to keep pace. And then, without any warning, the doe faltered. In that barest of pauses, I leapt, claws unsheathing instinctively. They caught and held in the deer’s hindquarters, and I dragged her down thrashing into the underbrush. Narrowly avoiding her flailing hooves, I sank my teeth into her throat. She twitched once and was still.

  I looked up to see the wolf only a few yards away, saliva dripping from his jaws. When he snarled, daring to assert a claim over my kill, I lashed out. He barely dodged my swipe, and I settled back onto my haunches to wait for him to try again. Hunger cramps were twisting my belly into knots, but the moment my concentration slipped would be the moment the wolf made his play.

  Thankfully, his will was weaker than mine. The instant I saw him focus on the kill instead of me, I sprang forward again, this time scoring a hit across his shoulder. The three-point scratch was starkly visible for an instant before blood welled up to cascade down his front leg. Growling, he finally beat a retreat into the underbrush.

  As soon as he was gone, I gorged myself on my kill. After such a harrowing week, I was even hungrier than usual, and I caught myself purring even as I ripped at the sinews of the corpse beneath my paws. Strength and vitality returned to my muscles, and with them came clarity of thought. Valentine could wake up at any moment. My feline half wanted to doze in the artificial sun, but I would have to wait to indulge her.

  Leaves rustled in the direction the wolf had gone, and I growled a warning. If he wanted to pick over whatever bones I left, he would have to wait a little longer. But when a large golden lion padded into view, the snarl choked in my throat. I had never seen Malcolm four-footed, but I had no doubt that he was standing before me now.

  Slowly, I backed away from my kill. It was both an instinctual and calculated move. I wanted to give the lion a wide berth, and I wanted Malcolm to feed on what meat remained. He loomed over the carcass, his red-gold mane framing liquid brown eyes above a long, thick muzzle. Tail lashing, he regarded me silently before finally bending to eat. It was impossible to tell whether he had recognized me in any meaningful way, but I wanted to believe it. We needed him back. He was our general and our rallying point in the stand against Brenner. Without him, others would lose hope. They might even defect.

  Reflecting on his inability—or unwillingness—to shift made me suddenly eager for my human form. I returned to the door and let my desire to check in with Solana propel me into a painless transformation. After Valentine recovered, there would be plenty of time for me to indulge my inner feline. Maybe we could even return to the cabin we’d rented last year in the Catskills for a much-needed getaway. Val and I had found balance and harmony there before, and perhaps some time away from the political chaos of the city would help us as we reforged our relationship.

  But I was getting ahead of myself. Solana seemed confident that our plan had succeeded, but we couldn’t know for sure until Val woke. My phone display indicated no missed calls or messages, but I threw my clothes on hastily. I wanted to be back at her side. I wanted her to feel loved, even if she couldn’t consciously perceive it. I wanted to think of all the right things to say when she finally opened her eyes. I wanted her to make me whole by awakening healed.

  As I walked toward the elevator, some impulse made me look over my shoulder. Malcolm was padding into the small clearing in front of the door, and I wondered if he had followed me deliberately. I wanted to take it as a good omen and waited to see what he would do. Had he witnessed my transformation? Was there any impulse in him that wanted to take human form again? I waited for a few minutes, daring to hope that having seen me might trigger his shift, but he only nosed around the door before returning to the shelter of the trees.

  I pressed my palm to the cool glass as he walked away. Malcolm Blakeslee was so much more than a noble beast, but only time could tell whether he would ever fully recover. In a way, his predicament was similar to Valentine’s. She, too, had been separated from her humanity—trapped by her physiological needs in a mentality that rewarded dominance without compassion.

  Right now, there was nothing I could do for Malcolm. But if Solana was right and we had succeeded, Val’s body was even now reverting back to its former state. Not wanting to spend another moment separated from her, I turned back toward the exit.

  *

  When Val’s status hadn’t changed by the following morning, I grudgingly met Olivia at a French café around the corner from Valentine’s apartment.

  “How is Val?” she asked as I sat opposite her.

  “Still unconscious.”

  I looked down at the menu, wanting to order quickly so I could get back. After I’d returned last night, Karma had left to check in with Constantine, and Solana and I had moved Val to her bed. I’d napped fitfully next to her, waking often to check that she was still breathing.

  Olivia cleared her throat into the awkward silence. “And how about you? How’s your arm?”

  “It’s fine.” I heard the note of incredulity in my own voice. This latest display of my regenerative capabilities still felt miraculous. I pushed up my sleeve and showed her the unbroken skin of my forearm. “Better than fine.”

  “Amazing.” Olivia lightly traced the spot where my scar had been. “Like it never happened.”

  Uncomfortable with her touch, I pulled away. “Any idea what’s good here?”

  “Not a one.” She leaned over to point at the menu. “Though the French toast is probably a sure thing.”

  “I am hungry,” I conceded.

  “You’re thinner than I’ve ever seen you. You should eat more.”

  My temper flared at her presumption. “Excuse me?”

  She had the decency to look ashamed. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  Despite her apology, I might have left if the waitress hadn’t arrived at that moment. After we ordered, Olivia leaned forward. “I’m doing this all wrong. Every time I try to tell you that I care about you, the sentiment comes out horribly twisted.”

  “I know you care about me. You’ve gone so far above and beyond the call of duty for a friend, it’s absolutely mind-boggling.”

  She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “But?”

  “But you know what I’m going to say. I belong to Val, Olivia. And if that offends your twenty-first century, liberated woman’s sensibilities, then fine. But that’s how it is. She’s who I want—who I need. And I need you to respect that.”

  To her credit, she met my gaze squarely. “I understand,” she said after a long moment’s pause. Her smile was a little sad, a little wistful. “It’s not easy to compete with Valentine Darrow.”

  “Funny. She once said almost exactly the same thing about you.”

  Our food arrived then, and the French toast was indeed delicious. I ate more quickly than I should have, and when Olivia very deliberately turned the conversation to human politics, I was happy to follow her lead. Until my phone rang. Solana.

  “What’s happened?”

  “She’s not awake yet, but she’s stirring.”

  I reached for my wallet, ignoring Olivia’s vigorous head shaking. “What does ‘stirring’ mean?”

  “Mumbling incoherently. Twitching. REM.”

  Rapid-eye movement? “So she’s asleep now, instead of unconscious?”

  “No,” said Solana. “I can’t wake her. But I think she’s dreaming.”

  “I’ll be there in two minutes. Maybe less.”

  When I hung up, Olivia forestalled my speech. “Go. If I can help, you’ll tell me?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  I raced from the restaurant back to Valentine’s apartment. When I burst through the door, I rushed immediately to the bedroom. Solana was sitting in a chair near Val’s head, and she stood as I approached.

  “Sweetheart,” I murmured, dropping to my knees and twining my fingers with Val’s. “Can you hear me?”

  Her eyes were moving beneath the thin lids
as though she was searching for something. I leaned in to press my lips to hers.

  “Wake up, Val. Come back to me.”

  For a long moment, nothing happened. And then, as though we were living a fairy tale, Valentine opened her eyes.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Alexa?”

  She spoke with a wistful uncertainty, as though she didn’t know whether I was real. My vision swam, and I dashed away the tears impatiently. I had to be strong.

  “Hi, love.” I kissed her cheek and rubbed my thumb across her knuckles. “How do you feel?”

  Her brow furrowed as she considered the question. “Weak. Thirsty. What hap—” She caught sight of Solana, then, and suddenly a gun was in her hand. I jerked backward in shock, my panther clamoring to shift. Despair threatened to overwhelm the hope that had just begun to take root in my soul. Had I failed? Was she still a full vampire?

  “Who the fuck are you?” Val’s eyes had never left Solana, but her voice held no fear. Miraculously, Solana also seemed calm.

  “This is normal,” she said, her gaze not on Val’s weapon but on me. “You don’t need to worry. Her body is in conflict and her memories do not match her emotions. She’s disoriented.”

  “The hell I am.” Val cocked the trigger. “Explain yourself. Now.”

  “My name is Solana Carrizo, and I’m a friend of Helen Lambros. We met yesterday at your club.” When Val’s frowned deepened, I knew the memories had not yet fully returned to her.

  “Your confusion is a normal reaction to the flower,” Solana continued.

  The pistol trembled ever so slightly. “What flower?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said, daring to rest my hand on her thigh. “Solana’s no threat to you or to us. Put down the gun, and I’ll tell you everything.”

  Slowly, Val lowered her weapon, and I sighed in relief as she reengaged the safety. She rested her hand atop mine and turned to face me. “You were in the club last night. I remember that much.”

  “That’s a good sign.” I worked to keep my voice calm. “Try to think back. What else?”