Page 63 of Veradel
This time, I resist the urge to rush toward him, despite the pang in my heart rattling through me, begging me to do something. If the boy didn’t want my help that first night, he certainly won’t want it now that I’ve got scary crimson eyes and fangs.
As his mother bends to lift him up by the elbows, however, I spot the scraped knee, dripping with blood that I can smell from here and imbedded with small chunks of gravel and dirt.
And I can’t help it.
“Just a second,” I murmur to Lucan, shoving the glass back into Soren’s hand.
In a flash, I’m down the road in the opposite direction, knocking on the door of Taika’s clinic. A cane thumps on the other end, and Taika’s weathered face appears behind the door when he opens it a sliver.
“Saskia!” He opens the door wider. “The antivenom is still…”
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s not that. Do you have a bandage I could borrow? And maybe some kind of disinfectant?” If nothing else, that boy needs to wash out his wound with some clean water, unless werewolves are naturally resistant to infections or something.
Taika smiles. “Of course.”
Two minutes later, I’m back at the bonfire site, this time with a wet washcloth and a clean strip of fabric. The back of my neck prickles as Lucan’s eyes trail my every move. Trying to keep my own eyes downcast and my lips pressed together to hide my fangs, I softly approach the mother and child, still crying as he clutches his knee in the middle of the road.
Both of them stiffen when they look up to find me looming over them.
“Here,” I mumble, holding out the washcloth and fabric.
The boy glances at his mother, tearstains striping his cheeks, then at me, then at his mother again, who gives an encouraging nod.
And the boy sticks out his leg in my direction.
“T-thank you,” he stutters.
For a moment, confusion parts my lips, but I catch on when neither of them moves to take the supplies out of my hand. Bending with a small smile, I gently dab at his blood—an earthy smell, just like Lucan’s—and wrap the strip of fabric around his knee before tying it together.
“There. That should do it,” I say, and the boy hops up to rejoin his friends as if none of it ever happened.
Before I stand up, his mother eyes me with renewed interest. She’s nearing middle-aged, with a few strands of gray streaking her dark brown hair and soft lines around her eyes… although I can’t be sure if she’s forty or four hundred.
“You didn’t have any urge to taste it?” Her voice is low, just for me. “My son’s blood?”
Oh.Oh. I almost press a hand against my chest at how repulsive the thought is—not blood, necessarily, but taking something fromthe most precious and innocent in our society. “No.” I shake my head firmly. “I don’t need to drink a lot, but even if I did, I wouldnevertake from anyone who didn’t ask me to.”
She seems to read the earnestness in my eyes, not flinching away from their color, because her muscles suddenly relax. As if she’s been on edge until this very moment. My heart pinches over the fact that Lucan’s entire pack—save for maybe Vivian, Soren, and Merrick—has been living with the fear that I might attack them at any moment.
Now, though, the boy’s mother smiles and nods over my shoulder.
“I think you deserve to experience a different kind of drink, then. It doesn’t sound like your Guardians ever let you have fun like this.”
Turning around, I find that Lucan and Soren have drifted over. This time, when I grab the drink, I don’t hesitate before knocking it back like I saw the others doing.
Instantly, fire pours down my throat and lands in my belly. I cough, gasping, eyes bulging.
“That’s disgusting!”
Vivian and Merrick appear at his side, and Vivian snorts. “You won’t think that if you have one or two more. Come on.” She grabs my hand, pulling me away from Lucan. “Let’s dance!”
I have no idea what I’m doing, but soon Ashe does indeed start up a sharp, jaunty tune on a funny-looking instrument, and the notes settle into my bloodstream. Vivian moves my hands up and down until myshoulders loosen, and I begin to mimic the sway of her hips.
“That’s right! Follow the music.” She lowers her voice with a giggle. “Lucan’s looking at your ass.”
Like an idiot, I jerk my head over my shoulder to find that Lucan’s eyes are snapping back up to mine. Grinning, I mouth some words that he waves away with a smirk twitching in the corner of his mouth.
But I don’t stop swaying my hips.
