Page 56 of Wake the Dream

“Illaria, answer me. What do you need from me?” he asked.

She’d heal, he tried to tell himself. She’d heal and be better within moments. Wouldn’t she?

The Fae tried to wave, to assure him all was well. Then crumpled down to her knees, the pavement of the front walkway scraping her already damaged skin.

Fuck this.Kieran dropped the vampire like a sack of flour, reaching toward his woman. “Careful!” The command popped out of his mouth without censure. Without hesitation.

Her eyes drifted shut, dark bruises standing out against the lightness of her skin and hair. “Kieran...”

“Whoa, there.” He bent to scoop her up, heedless of the amount of blood on his hands. They both looked like sole survivors of an apocalypse. “Illaria? Answer me.”

His deep voice broke when he whispered her name. Despite his training, his time at the academy that taught him to be prepared for anything, he felt his face go pale and the rest of him go hot.

What would he do if anything happened to her? He hadn’t even liked her at first. Now he couldn’t stomach the thought of losing her.

Steeling himself, he rose on shaky legs, drawing Illaria’s slight body to him. He had a nest of dead vampires to deal with, the one on the lawn bound and ready for interrogation. His squad needed to be informed of the mess and the chain of command must be followed.

Man, this wasn’t looking good for him or his career.

He’d lost his cool back there, attempting to contain his temper in order to get the job done without casualties. And he’d ended up choking on it when he saw the vampires dive on Illaria. He’d caught the scent of her fear like electricity before a thunderstorm, dread for the end. A real end. Not something she could bounce back from. Honest to goodness dead.

And the thought of a world without her in it shook Kieran to his core.

He’d let the rage loose, let it take over him with a murderous calm which turned out to be exactly that. Murderous. He’d lost his mother to something beyond his control. He refused to lose anyone else the same way.

The scene had slowed and spread around him until Kieran saw the room with sharp clarity. The old woman stood in the corner with her eyes closed and hands in front of her. The turned dead had blood lust in their eyes, fangs fully extended.

Kieran knew what to do. He grabbed his weapons from just outside the door and charged, a dim part of him aware that if he had any magic, he would have exploded the vampires from the inside with a thought.

If he’d had magic, Ilaria would never have been hurt on his watch. Her eyes had met his once he’d come to her rescue, and he saw genuine fear there. She’d been compromised and instead of telling him, leaning on him, she’d attempted the impossible on her own.

Impossible because for some reason, her access to her magic was blocked. She didn’t need to tell him. Just as he didn’t need the sight to know that something had happened to her.

With dread clutching his heart, he settled Illaria in the back seat of the car and addressed the body on the lawn. Kieran had made sure to keep the vamp from the club alive, but only just. He stuffed the creature in the trunk after checking that his weapons were stashed out of reach.

He’d deal with the vamp later. As soon as he knew for a fact that Illaria would live.

She’d lost a lot of blood. His mind circled around this fact repeatedly. Kieran hadn’t known the lure of her, never having heard the rumor before. It didn’t matter now. He’d fucked up. He should have left her at home.

He shoved the key into the ignition, stepping his foot down on the pedal with the echo of the sun making its last descent in his rearview mirror.

Speeding through the darkened streets, he had no care for the traffic laws. The light turned red overhead and he drove underneath with a roar of his engine, the red and blue lights on top of his unmarked police vehicle bright and obvious.

Illaria’s breath caught in her throat and he spared a glance in the rearview mirror. Paler than before, her skin appeared translucent beneath the glow of streetlights. Damn, he was losing time, something he didn’t have.

Why wasn’t she healing? Did this have something to do with her loss of magic?

“Hold on, baby, hold on,” he told her, tensing. Kieran reached over the seat and rested his hand against her arm. Needing to touch her, to feel her, even when her pulse jumped erratically beneath his fingertips. “I’m hurrying.”

A screech of tires brought him into his parking spot in the apartment complex. Leaving the vampire in the trunk, his thoughts circling in his head, he strode toward the back for his wild Fae woman.

“Hold on,” he told her again.

Illaria groaned when he marched up the steps toward the second floor. Kieran nearly resorted to kicking down his own door before he remembered that he had the key in hand. He pushed inside, knocking the door with his heel to close it.

Propping Illaria on the couch, he bolted for the bathroom and the first aid kit he kept there.

Not fast enough, he thought, rifling through the vanity. He wasn’t fast enough. His sneakers skidded along the linoleum.

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