Page 91 of Rapture's Edge (Night Prowler 3)
“Shut up, sickie.”
“You first.”
They shared a smile and a moment of profoundly relieved silence.
Eliana had crept into the room only moments before to find Melliane awake, trying to sit up in bed, her face pale and sweaty with the effort it took just to move. She’d gently pushed her back against the pillows and sat down, scolding, beside her.
“We’re at Alexi’s.”
Mel’s dark brows rose into twin quirks. She sniffed, a delicate flare of her nostrils, and looked Eliana up and down before giving her a faint, smug smile. “And Demetrius is here, too.”
Eliana flushed. “Can I just say that’s really annoying? And vaguely creepy?”
“Spill it.”
“It’s a long story.”
“Should be an interesting one.”
“You have no idea.”
Mel’s smile faded, and she regarded her very seriously. “You’d tell me if I was going to die, right? Because it feels like I am. My chest feels like there’s a really fat guy sitting on it, and the rest of me feels like I got hit by a truck.”
“You are not going to die,” Eliana enunciated, leaning closer. “I won’t let you. And neither will Demetrius.” Just saying his name made her feel funny inside, like a million tiny butterflies had opened their wings and started to dance. Her voice softened as her gaze dropped to the white bandage that was peeking out of the neck of Mel’s top. “He’s the one who fixed you up.”
An odd look crept over Mel’s face. “He’s good at that.” There was a little hitch in her voice. “Has he fixed you up yet?”
Eliana chewed her lip. “Insert another word that begins with an f into that s
entence and you’ll get the general idea.”
Mel’s look became dire. “Details. I want details.”
Eliana tried not to smile and instead tried to look very stern and intimidating. “I think I might have liked you better when you were unconscious.”
Her attempt at intimidation failed. Mel said, “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have made a little shrine for me with incense and candles and my picture—a good one, I hope—and cried over it all the time and prayed to it like one of those Buddhist nuns if I never woke up. You so totally would have.”
She brushed a stray wisp of black hair from her friend’s forehead, feeling her heart squeeze to a knot inside her chest. She would have done more than built a little shrine. She would have built a monument, adorned by stone angels with vast wings and fierce eyes, and there would have been wreaths of holly and inscriptions in marble and candles that never burned out.
Eliana shrugged, keeping her voice nonchalant. “I don’t have any pictures of you. I’d make some kind of crude drawing, where you’d be a tiny stick figure with a huge mouth and big scary teeth. I might light one candle. A little one. If I could find any laying around.”
Mel grinned.
There was a soft rap on the door, and then Alexi stuck his head in. “Doctor’s here. Is she—”
He caught sight of Mel awake in bed and broke into a smile. He swung the door open and entered. “Yes, she is. Welcome back to the land of the living, tiny, ferocious one.”
“The land of the extravagantly wealthy living,” Mel said, eying him. “How come I never knew you were rich before?”
“Why, do you like me better now?”
Her lips pursed, considering, and then she nodded. “It helps.” When he beamed she amended, “A little.”
Alexi walked toward them, still smiling, looking more like he’d just been handed a challenge instead of an insult. “What if I bring you breakfast in bed? Crepes with fresh cream and raspberries?”
“Oh,” she whispered, very serious, eyes wide, “you evil, evil man.”
“That’s a yes, she’ll like you more,” said Eliana. “She’s very easily swayed by food, in case you couldn’t tell. If you bring her chocolate, watch out.”
