Page 191 of Quicksilver
45
CHOOSE WISELY
I floatedon a sea of darkness. I was surprisingly calm about that, given my last encounter with a large body of water, but apparently, you didn't need to be able to swim in the afterlife.
Overhead, a canopy of stars bristled in the firmament, prickling with the promise of other realms. I was perfectly happy bobbing along on the nothingness, trying to count them. I kept losing track, but having to start over was no bother. I had nothing to worry about here. I floated for an age and felt civilizations rise and fall. In the dark, I observed the universe, and the universe observed me back.
I was born and died a hundred times.
And then I saw something that shouldn't have been.
A bird.
It flitted around me in the void, its beautiful wings flashing blue-green. It sang a song so sweet that I remembered what it was like to have a heart, if only so I could feel it ache. And oh, it ached.
I remembered more.
Jade, the color of new grass.
Winter mint and the promise of snow on cold mountain air.
A crooked smile and dark, thick waves of hair.
I remembered pieces of him, and all at once, and I remembered how to drown.
I needed him like I needed air.
I reached for him like I was reaching for the surface of a still, flat lake.
Kingfisher. My Kingfisher. My mate.
“FISHER!”
I sat up, panting, soaked to the skin with sweat. My head spun in the worst way. Oh gods, I—I was going to be sick. I leaped out of the...the bed, I'd been in abed,and immediately tripped over a bucket that had been strategically placed by the nightstand. Sitting on the floor, legs splayed wide, I grabbed that bucket and puked into it for all I was worth. Once my stomach was empty, I sank back against the side of the bed, panting as I took in my surroundings.
The room I found myself in was high-ceilinged. Dark green drapes hung at the windows. Heavy, dark oak furniture decorated the space—a wardrobe by the door, a chest of drawers, another armoire by the window, and a bookcase full of books. The rug I was splayed out on was a soft dove grey. Plush. It felt lovely when I buried my fingers into—
Oh.
I grabbed the bucket and heaved into it again. My stomach muscles throbbed uncomfortably when I set it aside.
“They call it the great purge,” a male voice said. Taladaius had opened the door while I was vomiting and was now leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded over his chest, watching me with an amused smile on his face.
Vampire.
Malcolm's second.
I cast around the room, looking for a weapon, and realized for the first time that I was dressed in a pair of scandalously tiny black silk shorts and a sheer camisole made of the same material that didn't leave much to the imagination. Gasping, I gave up my search for something to defend myself with and looked for something to cover myself with instead.
Taladaius chuckled as he crossed the room and fetched a robe from the ornate privacy screen by the window. He made a point of looking away as he came toward the bed and held it out for me. “Your body has undergone some stark changes of late,” he said. “The general consensus is that you'll be able to eat normal food again soon, but it might take a day or two. When I transitioned, it took me six months before I didn't hack up anything I tried to eat like it was a hairball.”
Snatching the robe from him, I threw it around my shoulders. I flared my nostrils, hating the strange, overpowering burn at the back of my nose. “What do you mean, transitioned?” I asked sharply.
Taladaius let his head fall to one side. He gazed at me pityingly. “You know exactly what I mean by that word. Don’t you?”
Vampire.
Vampire.
