Page 118 of Claimed
Ruin and I follow them onto the jet. They set Caine down in the bed at the rear of the plane so that Gage can look him over. But I know what he sees.
Caine’s normally pale skin is almost russet and his flesh gleams with sweat. His hair is soaked, dampened, with the same. The rise and fall of his chest is too fast. Every breath an audible pant.
“He’s burning up,” Gage mutters, gripping his cheek. “Even to me. What was he shot with?”
“Brightex darts.”
They stop breathing and Ruin’s hold on me tightens reflexively.
“How many?” Gage asks.
“Two, I think. One in the neck and one in the chest.”
“How long ago?”
I try to work that out. “Maybe an hour?” He raises a white brow at my tone. “I don’t know. I haven’t exactly been checking a watch,” I admit sharply.
Tanner rubs his hand up and down my arm, the gesture meant to sooth. Though I am not sure if the cat is soothing me or him.
“Can you help him or not?” I demand.
Gage bows his head. “We tried to create an antidote to Brightex. Every attempt was a failure.”
The words hit me like a freight train and only T’s hold keeps me from dropping to my knees. “So you’re just going to let him die?”
Ruin slips past him, his cool hands gripping my face. He forces me to look at him. “Caine has been shot with a Brightex dart before,” he tells me. “He survived then.”
My eyes dart over the captain. “Then he can survive now.”
Ruin’s jaw flexes. “I don’t know,” he admits. “His magick took an upswing last time. There is nothing like that now. He’s almost comatose.”
My mind whirs. “An upswing?”
He nods. “He nearly caused an orgy at the hospital.”
“What about trickles of his power pouring from his skin?” I ask, frantic. “Does that count?”
Ruin turns to Gage, his dark eyes fierce. “Would it?”
The Fae hesitates. “The batch at Silver Rock was old. Almost crystallized. Considering shelf life …” He trails off. “I just don’t know.”
I let out a small sob and Ruin pulls me against his chest. Tanner’s heat blankets my spine. I try to stop the tears, the fear.
Caine is too damn strong to go out like this. Too damn arrogant.
He can’t.
Not yet. Not when we were so damn close.
“Perhaps, I could be of assistance?” Horan’s voice is a deep rumble from the other side of the door.
Ruin releases me and we turn as the angel nears. “You can’t heal him, Horan. He has too much demon blood for that.”
The angel’s amber eyes gleam. “My magick will not heal him, but my blood may be hot enough to burn out the Brightex he is fighting.”
I stare. “You want to give him your blood?”
Horan turns to me. “I have not been as angelic to Caine as I should have been. I saw the man he portrayed and resented him for it.” He raises one tan arm. “My blood is nearly pure. I do not drink, smoke. Partake in drugs or illicit sex.” He glances back into my eyes. “But I do not know what else it will do.”
