Lucien didn’t trust Avenor and Chase to keep their word after informing them of his biggest weakness out of pure necessity. So he wanted to magically zip their mouths closed on the matter.
“Before we start,” Chase said, glancing at me briefly, “please show me your arms.”
Lucien, Avenor, and I showed our arms.
Chase then lifted his own arm and, with one swift cut, let a few drops of his blood into a small stone bowl he’d placed on the table.
He hovered his palm over the bowl, blood still flowing out of his fresh wound, as he muttered words in a language I didn’t understand.
It resulted in a soft glow surrounding the blood at the bottom of the bowl.
Grimly, Chase turned to me and said, “First, I need the blood of the subject matter.”
I pressed my lips together, bracing myself, as I nodded.
To his credit, Chase made the cut so quickly, the pain didn’t register until after he squeezed a few drops into the bowl. Only when I lowered my arm did I wince, feeling a little lightheaded and unsteady on my own two feet.
Lucien’s free arm wrapped around my waist, causing my heart to stutter, as he nudged me to lean against his side. “I didn’t take you for a wimp when it comes to blood,” he murmured softly while Chase held his palm over the bowl and mumbled gibberish again. “You tended to my injury with a cool head, after all.”
A thin layer of cold perspiration crawled over my skin. “When it’s others’ blood, I don’t mind,” I murmured as my vision started to turn blurry at the edges.
“Hey, sorcerer,” Lucien said, loud now, “you don’t need Drew anymore, right?”
Chase, who’d just finished his mumblings, turned to look at Lucien with a frown. “No, but ...” He trailed off when he saw me. “Shit, she’s pale. Lay her down on the floor and bring a chair to put her legs over.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Lucien murmured as he placed me gently on the floor.
The next few minutes, I was fighting not to pass out, not wanting to feel more humiliated than I already did. Tending to deep, bleeding wounds was no problem. Shooting other people wasn’t any trouble, apparently, either. But a little slice to my arm, and I was done.
It wasn’t like I was afraid of pain or anything—at least not any more than the average person. But my blood pressure was naturally so low,the slightest injury could make me lose consciousness, as if my body couldn’t handle that.
With everything that was going on, I had completely forgotten about this quirk of mine. And now I’d made a spectacle out of myself.
And after Lucien told you you’re his weakness, too,a little voice whispered in my head, making me feel a pang of guilt. I wasn’t weak, not by a long shot. But this current display might make Lucien lose any faith he had in me, if he even had any to begin with.
As the ritual of the vow continued, all I could do was close my eyes and focus on my breaths. Chase’s quiet murmurs sounded like they were coming from far away. They were also monotonous enough that they were almost calming, in a way.
I was still trying to calm myself down when I heard more murmurs, this time from all three men, and tried to understand what they were saying. They were speaking so quietly I could only hear certain bits and pieces, likethe Society won’t let it goorthe Underearthwithout actual context.
Some time later, a hand cupped my face, swiping my sweat with gentle fingers, and I opened my eyes to see Lucien crouching next to me, concern in his expression. “They’re gone,” he told me, searching my face. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” I croaked and, with his help, took my legs off the chair and slowly sat up. “Is the vow done?”
Lucien nodded silently, his hand lingering on my cheek. I stared at him. His auburn tousles were a mess around his head, and his arctic-blue eyes were filled with emotion I couldn’t describe. The sight of his concern did things to my body that made me force my gaze away and swallow hard in sudden nervousness.
He let me go and stood up. He offered me his hand, and I took it, climbing to my feet as well. He didn’t let my hand go, though, even though I was no longer bleeding or feeling like I was about to faint. “I need to wipe your wound,” he said quietly. “Can you handle that?”
Pursing my lips, I nodded. “Just be gentle.”
Chase must’ve left some antiseptic wipes for him, because Lucien plucked one out, held my arm, and cleaned the wound.
My eyes went over to his own arm. It was still bleeding.
Suddenly alert, I said, “Lucien, your arm—”
“I know,” he said with a dark tone that made me clamp my mouth shut. He finished cleaning me up and threw the wipe away. “It seems that whatever antihealing Spellscript my attacker carved on my back is not restricted tojustmy back.”
“That’s bad,” I said, finding his gaze with my own concerned one. “We need to find a way to deactivate the Spellscript or something, if possible.”