“What’d you do, Noah?” I ask. My fear has risen and turned to bile. My stomach hurts.
“I gave him my venom. Maybe too much. It was the only thing to do at the time. He was going apeshit crazy in there. It made him calm enough to get him out of the realm and back to the Crachan. I had him in chains by the time Jake and Gabriel showed up. And then, hell. There was you.”
I look at him, waiting.
“Jake, Gabriel, and Luc took one jet with Eli, back to Savannah. I grabbed another one with you, Seth, Phin, Rhine, and Arcos. Preacher, his cousin Garr, and Eli’s parents were waiting for us at the airport. Preacher accompanied Eli’s parents to the other island with Eli. Jake, Gabriel, and Luc went, too. Garr set us up here. Arcos, on another island.”
I cock my head, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Noah shrugs. “Between Preacher and Garr, and Eli’s parents, they insisted that if Arcos was going to hang around here, he had to be cleansed. It didn’t take long. He was pretty cooperative.”
“Where is he now?” I ask.
Noah rubs his chin with his hands. “Lucky for us, Vic killed his own brother, instead of me killing Valerian. He’s back in Romania right now, clearing things up with his family.”
I notice Noah is telling me everything there is to know about everyone . . . except me.
And that’s got me a little worried.
“Why are we here alone?” I ask.
Noah’s penetrating, serious silver gaze makes my heart leap. “Noah?”
He sighs. “The bite you took from Valerian Arcos?” He shakes his head. “It wasn’t meant for you. It was meant for Eli. To kill him.”
I blink, confused. “And?”
“You . . . went through a few changes.”
I shake my head. “I’ve had Arcos venom before, Noah—three times. Why is this different?”
He shrugs. “Arcos venom overload? Don’t exactly know yet, Riley. But your DNA may have . . . crossed over.”
The air swooshes out of my lungs. “Crossed over? As in full-blown vampire?”
Noah’s hand reaches for mine, and he squeezes. “We’re not sure yet. You’ve been detoxed in the most aggressive ways possible. Eli, too. And Victorian. Going on nine weeks now.” He shakes his head. “Eli . . . he’s not exactly remembering things, Ri.” He stares at me. “Last time I saw him, he didn’t remember me. He may not remember you.”
My heart plummets. I thought all we had to do was get him alive. Detox him. The thought never crossed my mind that Eli wouldn’t remember me. His family. His old life. I take a deep breath and push myself to my feet. My legs are wobbly, weak, and Noah’s up and beside me. His hand slips under my elbow, and I look up at him. “Why are we here alone?”
“Eli needed all hands, so to speak. Once your detox was complete, and you only needed a guardian, I volunteered. The others are all with Preacher and Garr at the other island. Besides . . .” He gives me a warm smile. “A vow’s a vow. I promised Eli I would keep you safe. Remember?”
I lean my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, I do. And I appreciate it.” Outside the makeshift lean-to, the waves roll up onto the sand. “I need to walk,” I say.
Noah drapes an arm over my shoulders and guides me out. “Then let’s walk.”
We start out of the lean-to, and I stop, looking up. “Thank you,” I say.
Noah flashes a grin—different from the sexy, cocky one he usually portrays. “Anytime.” As we walk, he reaches in the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his cell.
“She’s awake,” he says into the phone, and hangs up.
“Who was that?” I ask. I’m barefoot, and the sand squishes between my toes as we walk along the shoreline. Gulls scream overhead, and sandpipers scurry along the tide, poking their long beaks into the sand. The familiar briny scent washes over me, and I breathe it in. It settles me, comforts me. It’s home.
Noah pulls me against him. “You’ll see. And by the way . . . I saw what you did with Carrine.” Affection and admiration lighten his gaze. “You’re sick, you know that, right?”
I give a wan smile. “Yeah.”
Noah kisses the top of my head. “We’re not giving up on Eli, darlin’. No one’s giving up on him. You got that?”
His words comfort me. “I know.”
Riley? How are you, love?
Vic . . . I’m fine. How are you?
Ready to leave this drafty old Arcos castle. I just wanted to hear your voice. I’ll be along to the States as soon as I can. Please, mind your Gullah brethren. And mind Miles. I beg you.
I will, I will. See ya soon, Vic.
Not soon enough.
A few minutes later, the purr of a boat motor carries across the inlet, and as the sun’s setting I see the boat heading toward us. Two dark figures, and a handful of light ones.
The boat pushes up onto shore, and my heart leaps.
“Dere’s my girl,” Estelle says, her beautiful ebony skin splitting at the mouth in a wide grin, showing off her stark-white teeth. “Somebody git me outta dis ting.”
Eli’s brother Phin scoops her up, and Estelle squeals like a little girl. He sets her in the sand, and she makes her way to me. I rush into her arms and squeeze her tight.
“Grandma!” I say into her neck. She smells of spices and Dial soap, and it’s never smelled so good.
Estelle pats me on the back several times. “Oh, now. Dere, dere, child. Don’t go gettin’ my dress all wet, right?” She laughs, and the familiar sound goes straight to my soul. “I’m almost too old to be jumpin’ from island to island, watchin’ out for you young’ns.”
“Ri!” Seth says, leaping out of the boat and rushing over to me. Estelle steps back and my baby brother wraps his arms around me and picks me up. “You’re okay?” he says into my hair. He pulls back, and is searching me all over, as though he might find a cut or a scratch, or something out of place.
“I’m fine, Seth,” I say.
“You wasn’t so fine before, girl,” Preacher says, ambling up to me with a slight limp. His dark eyes regard me. “You might not be too fine now.” He smiles. “But we’ll keep ya, dat’s right.”
I laugh and throw my arms around my surrogate root-doctor grandfather’s neck. “Preacher Man,” I say against him, then kiss his cheek. “It’s been too long.”
“You, and that odder Arcos boy,” he says. “Not so bad. But your fiancé? He’s been a challenge.”
“When can I see him?” I ask.
Preacher’s dark face stares back at me. “Soon. Not now.”
Phin walks over and pulls me away from Preacher. “’Bout time you woke up,” he says, and kisses me. “You scared us all for a while, too.”
“Good to see you, too, garçon,” I joke.
“We thought you were in a quickening,” Phin says, and concern replaces his usual joking gaze. “Freaked me out.”
“We still don’t know, boy, so watch your neck,” Estelle says, and giggles to herself. “Dat girl bites you, it’s gonna be bad.”
“Who’s staying with Eli now?” I ask. We all walk toward the lean-to. Seth and Noah pull out lawn chairs, and we all sit.
“Pa-pa, Jake Andorra, Garr, and Gabriel,” Phin says. “Ma mère and Josie remained in the city with Nyx.”
“It’s been quiet,” Seth says. “Vic went back home to deal with his family. But he’ll be back.”
I sit in the sand at the feet of my surrogate grandparents, and let their conversation wash over me. I’m home. I don’t know how right I am, but I’m home. There’s something missing, a piece of me that feels incomplete, and I know it’s Eli. The fear that he won’t remember me terrifies me. I guess I could go on in my life—whatever that is now—and carry on, being content that at least, he’s alive. But I’m greedy, and I want more than that.
I want him.
I’m not too sure how long I can wait to find out if he wants me, too.
Or just wants to kill me.
Preacher decides he’s happy with my recovery but wants me and Noah to remain on Da Island a few more days. A thought suddenly comes to me, and I pull from my grandfather’s arms and look at him.
“Are his eyes still red?”
Preacher gives a short nod. “They are, yeah.” He shakes his head. “Dere’s somethin’ missin’, dat’s right. But I don’t know what it is yet.” He kisses my nose. “We’ll figger it out, girl. Don’t worry. He’s progressin’ good enough, I reckon.”
After hugs and kisses and tears, everyone leaves me and Noah alone. Seth accompanies Estelle back to Da Plat Eye, where she and Preacher live in the shop’s upstairs apartment. Preacher and Phin head back to Eli.
Eli’s eyes are still red. And everyone expects me to just sit . . . and wait?
I am Strogoi. I am Dupré. And I am a Fallen.
I can do more than just kick a little ass now.
“I do not like that look in your eye.”
Slowly, as I hear the purr of Preacher’s boat fade in the distance, I smile at Noah.
He does not smile back.
“Riley,” he warns. “Whatever it is you’re cookin’ in that pretty little head of yours, stop.”
I take a step toward him. “Or what?”
His hand eases up, reaches down his shirt, and grasps his satchel of herbs. “Don’t make me throw this in the water.”
Slowly, I shake my head. “Are you seriously using your sex appeal against me, Noah Miles?” He grins. “Tsk-tsk, you crazy vampire.” Take your sexy backside and go sit in the lean-to. Now.
Without hesitation, Noah drops his hand from his satchel, turns, and walks into the lean-to. He plops down on the pile of stacked quilts.
And simply sits.
Dusk has taken over the sky, throwing swirls and lines of purple and gray and burnt orange in a canopy overhead. I listen closely to Preacher’s boat motor, and gauge the direction. A quick glance at my beach attire—cutoff jeans and a fuchsia Inksomnia T-shirt—and I decide that will do just fine in the chilly winter waters of the Atlantic. I turn my gaze to the end of Da Island, two hundred feet of shoreline and sand, and I launch myself into a full run. Ten feet from the edge I gather my strength and leap, landing thirty feet in a dive. The water rushes over my head, and I kick a few times before surfacing. Taking a deep breath, I turn in the direction of Eli’s island.
