Page 6 of Wicked Thirst
I lowered my voice and slowed my words so they were calmer than her hurried ramblings. I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how. It was difficult seeing her like this. “Niche, we know this. We’ve all been working on it.”
“Yes, but you don’t see.” She ran her fingers over the bright-red strings and whispered, “None of you see.”
Adrienne motioned to her. “She just . . . snapped. She’s been saying that for the past two hours. We don’t see, but she’s not explaining what I don’t see.”
I lowered my gaze to meet her eye, trying to catch her focus or attention somehow. “See what, Niche? What are we missing?”
Wild laughter escaped her lips, and she began pacing back and forth. She dropped the pen and fisted her matted hair as her eyes bounced around the room. “It’s all there. All the power! Like a sunken minefield in the ocean. All of it. Do you see it now? Do you!?”
I glanced up at the map, but all I saw was the mad ramblings of someone who’d exhausted herself to the point of madness. “I don’t see it.”
“She’s not going to make sense until she gets some rest.” Beckett eyed the pendulums all swinging in wild directions. He shook his head. “We need to get her to bed.”
“NO!” Niche pressed her back to the wall and spread her arms wide over the map. Her eyes darted back and forth. “I’m not leaving.”
“Easy fix.” Astrid waved her hand and golden sparkles poured from her fingers. A small twin-sized bed formed in the corner of the room. “Look, you don’t have to leave.”
Niche’s eyes widened and she slouched more into the wall. “No, it must be like this!”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and started to guide her toward the bed. “Come on. Just a few hours of rest and you’ll be able to explain it all.”
She fought my hold and Tuck moved to her other side, taking her hand. “You’re going to have to drain her a bit.”
I hated using my magic on my friends, but she needed my help. My silvery magic wrapped around her, and I felt the first pull of her manic energy shift from her body into mine. It felt like drinking ten espressos. I couldn’t stop myself from shaking. But Niche visibly relaxed. Her eyes gave a long, slow blink. “Maybe I should rest for a minute?”
“Yes, you should.” Beckett’s blue smoke filled the room, and Niche was lifted from our hold. He floated her across the room and placed her on the bed. The blankets lifted up and laid over her.
She sighed as her head fell back into the pillows, then yawned. “But I have to help him.”
“Help who?” I moved to her bedside.
Her eyes fluttered shut. “The magic . . . It’s all converging in one place . . .”
“What?” My heart sped even faster. “Where?”
I spun around toward the map, trying to make sense of the lines. Astrid, Beckett, and Tuck all stood beside me staring at it as well. Niche gave another heavy yawn. “England . . . The House of Shade is in trouble . . . Grayson is in trouble. Death calls.”
My body turned to ice. Only a day ago he came to us for help and now . . . and now I didn’t know. I spun back toward her. “Niche, did he survive? Niche!”
It was too late. My power had done its job of knocking her the hell out. I nearly dropped to my knees to shake her awake, but Adrienne stepped in front of me. “She needs to rest. It’s the only way we can have her back to help us.”
I knew she was right. I knew I had to let her rest.
Niche gave one last sigh. “No one could survive this. . .”
CHAPTER THREE
DICE
“Look, don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas with you guys, but it’s time for me to get to Piper. I mean, all the knives were awesome presents . . . if I want to . . . you know . . . slice and dice things.” I followed Ophelia as she danced down the halls of her castle and sprinkled glitter over the dark stone floors.
“Or people,” she pointed out as she danced around with all the joy an elf in the North Pole would muster in Santa’s workshop. Kylian dropped me here days ago, and at first I found this strange castle creepy. Ophelia was terrifying and I thought Cross might kill me in my sleep. Since then, I’d grown to love the cold gothic decor. I even liked Ophelia, and maybe she was slowly becoming one of my most favorite psychopaths. I’d gotten to the point where I was pretty sure Cross would not kill me in my sleep . . . almost sure.
Ophelia’s long hair was loose around her shoulders and flowed and bounced with each of her moves. I’d grown used to seeing her in her black dress or sweaters strapped with weapons. But today she wore red and white-striped leggings and a bright-red shirt with Christmas lights on it that were set to light at random. Even her shoes had little bells on them. Every time she moved there was a little tinkering sound like a cat with a bell on its neck. For a moment I wondered if we could make this a permanent solution to a long-term problem. I never knew where she was, and she snuck up on me like a cat most days. Little bells would fix that real quick.
I cleared my throat and agreed. “Right, orrrrr slicing and dicing people. They’re lovely and I?—”
“—I know, right? I gave you only the good ones . . . pre-sharpened.” She paused and winked at me like pre-sharpened knives were the best things ever. A wide smirk spread across her face, and she turned to start strolling away from me once more. “They never make them sharp enough. You have to do it yourself if you want a clean slice.”
