“How could she just leave us? She’s supposed to take care of us.”
“She left the house to you and Cybil. That’s her way of taking care of you.”
“Will I see her again?”
Something bleak and sad flashed in Cain’s eyes. “I don’t know if we’ll ever see them again.”
He frowned at the way he included his father in his grandmother’s fate. “Is your dad some sort of doctor?”
“Let’s just say he has access to things the average person doesn’t. You’ll understand more once we get to the farm.”
Exhausted, he debated what to do. “Are you going to hurt us?”
Cain scowled. “No. You’ll be looked after. You’re old enough to learn a trade and there are plenty of males around to teach you.”
“Where will you be?”
“I probably won’t stay. But you can work and Cybil can go to school and play with the other females. She needs a place where she can feel safe again.”
Colby whined, pulling on the leash as if urging him to move faster. Dane hesitated. “What if we hate it?”
“Give me one month. If in one month, you decide to leave, we’ll figure out something else.”
By then, they would have to know if the treatment worked or not. “Fine. One month.”
Chapter 41
A weak sigh broke the silence and Larissa’s lashes fluttered. She resembled an angel. Eleazar swallowed hard, recalling Adriel’s warning of the internal damage that still would remain.
Larissa’s ivory flesh had mended and healed. Her skin was clean and the external bruises had faded. Shadows formed in purple crescents on her cheeks, and her color was still more pale than it should be.
“Larissa?” He slowly traced the back of his knuckle gently down her cheek. “Can you hear me, love?”
Her eyelids twitched but did not open.
Laying a hand over hers, he whispered, “Rest. You’re safe now.”
A floorboard creaked, alerting him of an audience. Adriel hovered by the threshold to the bedroom, holding another pewter cup. “I brought you this.”
He breathed in, prepared to let out an objection, but her stern look deflated any protest. Waving her into the room, he accepted the cup and drank gratefully.
Adriel’s blood was aged and potent. It would replenish him several times faster than that of a young immortal or a mammal. Finishing the offering, he sat the cup carefully on the bedside table. “We’re breaking the law.”
“I imagine many laws will be broken tonight, Bishop.”
He glanced at her, hearing the pointed way she used his title, but not exactly sure why.
“You’ll need one more dose before you see him. He has immortal blood in his system.”
His jaw locked. He didn’t need the reminder. “Larissa’s blood is young.”
“It’s still immortal, Eleazar. Don’t be foolish. This time you won’t have other males there to aid you.”
He recalled the night they put an end to Cerberus. There had been several of them against one, and it had been quite a battle. “I’m older now. Stronger.”
“And your mate depends on you, so do everything in your power to return safely.”
He laughed without humor. His friend had discovered his Achille’s heel. Larissa would forever be his greatest vulnerability, and loving her would drive him to rethink every move he made in his eternal life. He would do nothing to jeopardize her safety and everything to ensure it.
“No one can ever know,” he said quietly, his gaze studying his motionless wife.
His friend rested a hand on his shoulder. “I shall take it to my grave.”
He believed she would. If not for his intervention, Adriel would likely have been dead by now, or worse, tortured for centuries. An immortal’s ability to heal was sometimes a curse when their existence was filled with such misery.
But Adriel’s loyalty wasn’t born of debt. It was reciprocated by his own. He covered the hand resting on his shoulder with his own. “Thank you.”
“It’s not necessary—”
“It is. You were there with her the other day when he approached her and you were here for me tonight. You are a true friend, Adriel, one I’m grateful to know.”
Her hand slipped away and he took no offense, understanding that she could not tolerate a masculine touch for too long.
“I’ll see about preparing a kettle for when Larissa awakes, and I’ll bring you another.” She collected the cup from the table and left the room.
Silus had his own injuries to tend to and no one waiting at his bedside as he atoned in a cell. Eleazar dropped the stack of planks and tools onto the cement floor with a loud clatter, and the bastard stirred from where he rested in the shadowed corner.
A moment of silence passed as Eleazar lit the torch and mounted it on the wall, casting an amber glow throughout the cellar.
“You can’t keep me in here,” Silus growled, pain evident in his voice. Without additional blood, his wounds would be slow to heal.