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Chapter Ten

The morning after Jacqueline’s ultimatum, I woke to more pain than I’d ever felt in my vampire or human life.

Not the usual humiliation of the curse: the stumbles, spills, and public embarrassments that had become the background noise of my existence. This was different. Physical. Visceral. A grinding ache deep in my bones that turned every movement into an exercise in agony.

Carolina had left before sunrise to raid the coven stores for blood, counterspells, and anything else her mother hadn’t already locked away. I’d promised to call if anything changed.

After she left, I dragged myself to the door, hauled myself high enough to fasten the security chain, and crawled back to bed. Her key would still work. The chain would make her stop long enough for me to tell her to go away. That was the idiotic plan, anyway.

Apparently, near-death had not improved my decision-making skills.

I tried to get out of bed, and my legs buckled beneath me. My shoulder struck the floor with a crack that echoed through the apartment.

I lay there for a minute, breathing through the pain even though breathing was optional now. Old human habits died harder than humans did.

It was just a bad morning.

Just the curse being its usual vindictive self.

I would get up. I would be fine.

I was not fine.

I crawled to the bathroom, dragging my useless legs behind me. My reflection was terrifyingly pale even for a vampire. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath my eyes, and a sheen of cold sweat covered my forehead, something I was fairly certain my dead body shouldn’t have been capable of producing.

I looked sick.

I looked like I was fucking dying, which seemed particularly unfair considering I’d already done that once.

My supposedly immortal body was shutting down.

Slowly. Methodically.

And I knew exactly who was doing it.

Jacqueline had made good on her threat.

By noon, even pulling myself upright was beyond me. My legs had become useless weights that refused to obey me. I dragged myself into the kitchen for blood, but my hands trembled so badly that I dropped the bag twice. It burst against the linoleum, spreading a dark, sticky pool across the floor.

I stared at the mess and laughed.

The broken, bitter sound echoed through my empty apartment.

This was it. Jacqueline had finally found a way to destroy me without dramatic gestures or public displays. She could let me deteriorate slowly, hidden away where no one had to witness it.

Alone and forgotten.

My phone buzzed.

Carolina. Again.

Her messages had grown increasingly desperate throughout the morning.

Logan, please answer.

I’m coming over. Don’t try to stop me.

Logan, I’m worried. Please.