Chapter 6
The world flickered in and out, like a fading light bulb. I tried to keep track of what was happening. I knew Ren was carrying me inside. I could feel his hard shoulder against my cheek. I felt every step he took. Darkness gave way to warmth and brightness.
“I need a doctor!” Ren was shouting, his voice edged with wild panic. “Jesus Christ, someone! I need a damn doctor!”
It was getting hard to keep my eyes open, and I thought that maybe . . . maybe it was too late for a doctor. The world faded out again.
The next thing I knew I was lying on a soft surface that didn’t have much give to it and the room was extraordinarily bright—too bright. It took me a couple of seconds to realize I was in the infirmary, a place in the basement of Hotel Good Fae that I was sure saw little action.
“Ren.” His name bubbled up from my lips.
“I’m here.” He carefully touched my cheek with his fingertips, drawing my attention. “Fuck, Ivy.”
There were other voices. A woman’s I didn’t recognize. “You’re going to feel a big pinch,” she said, holding my right arm.
I didn’t feel anything as I stared into Ren’s eyes, wondering why his face seemed fuzzy.
But then Tink was suddenly there, standing beside Ren. “What happened to you? Ivy?” His eyes were wide with horror as he scanned me. “Who did this? The Prince?”
Someone gasped in the room. The cool hand on my arm stilled.
“No,” Ren growled, and the one word echoed in the room like a gunshot. “It was fae that lived here.”
“Two,” I managed to whisper.
“That cannot be.” That was Tanner, but I couldn’t see him. “Those who live here would not harm you—harm any of you.”
The fact that I was bleeding out from multiple stab wounds proved differently.
The air in the room filled with static, and Ren’s fingers left my cheek. I couldn’t see his face or his eyes anymore. He pulled back, and I didn’t see him move, but I heard a body hit a wall.
“No!” someone shouted, and Tink whirled. There was a scream.
What the hell was happening? It was a struggle to lift my head and clear my vision, but I managed just in time to see that Ren had Tanner pinned to the wall with a hand around the older fae’s throat.
“You said we were safe here.” Ren’s voice was too flat, too cold. “We trusted you.”
“You are safe here,” Tanner denied, his tone remaining calm even though Ren was seconds from choking the life out of him. “We would never—”
“That’s obvious bullshit.” Ren cut him off. The muscles under his dark shirt strained as he lifted Tanner up. “Look at her.” A moment passed and Ren shouted, “Look at her!”
Tanner must’ve looked at me, but I couldn’t see past Ren’s shoulder.
“Does she look like she’s safe?” Ren demanded.
Tink stepped away from where I lay.
“She doesn’t,” Tanner replied. “I understand you’re upset. I am, too. I’m also shocked—” His words were cut off when Ren slammed him back against the wall.
“Tink,” Faye cried out from the doorway. When did she get here? “You’ve got to get Ren away from Tanner. He had nothing to do with what happened to her!”
Tink shook his head. “I ain’t stopping shit, lady. He’s just lucky it’s Ren who had his hand around his neck.”
That was true. I’d seen what Tink was capable of.
I sucked in a sharp breath when Tink turned to me. He had never looked more Otherworldly than he did in this moment. His features were sharp and brutal—animalistic. But when he picked up my ruined hand by the wrist, he was gentle. “There’s a hole in your hand.”
Tink. Even in the direst of moments, he was still Captain Obvious.
“Ren,” Tanner began, clearing his throat. “You need to understand—”
“What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and listen,” Ren snarled. “I’m going to make two things painfully clear. First off, you will find out who did this, who was involved and knew about this, and why. Then you will tell me exactly who those dead motherfuckers are. And the second thing you better understand all the way down to your bones is, if Ivy doesn’t come out of this, laughing her laugh, smiling up at me as she’s walking out of this damn room, I will burn this motherfucker down with all of you in it.”
Damn.
“Ren,” gasped Faye.
“You understand?” Ren asked. “Tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” was Tanner’s quiet response.
My head was now too heavy to keep up. I was flat on my back, staring up at a drop ceiling and ultra-bright lights.
“I feel funny,” I whispered, or at least I thought I said it out loud. My lips moved, but I didn’t hear my words. My heart tripped up in my chest. Yeah, I didn’t feel right.
Ignoring the wave of nausea following the burst of pain, I called out. “Ren.”
He was there in an instant, by my head. The tips of his fingers were on my chin, slowly turning my face to his.
A kernel of panic blossomed in my gut. “I . . . I don’t feel right.”
“What do you mean, Sweetness?” His gaze flicked over to the other side of the bed. “What does she mean?”
My tongue felt heavy. “I can’t . . . feel my legs.”
Ren cursed and started to pull away.
“Don’t!” The panic spread as I tried to lift my hand. If he left, I didn’t think I’d see him again. “Don’t leave . . . me.”
His hand brushed over my forehead. “I’m right here with you. I’m not leaving. Ever. You know that, right?” His voice thickened. “Never leaving you.”
“There’s a damn hole in her hand,” Tink pointed out again.
“The hand is the least of my worries,” the female’s voice clipped back. There was pressure on my side. “I need you to help roll her. I have to look at this back.”
My mouth dried. Rolling me sounded bad. “No,” I groaned. “I don’t—”
“I’m sorry, Sweetness, but we have to.” Ren leaned in. Those beautiful green eyes of his made up my entire world. “We’ll make it quick. I promise. But we have to do this.”
I wasn’t given much of an option. Ren gingerly gripped my right shoulder as he cupped my cheek with his other hand. “Hold on, Sweetness. Just hold on.”
I didn’t want to hold on. I knew this was going to hurt—hurt bad, and I didn’t think I could deal with any more pain. I was at my limit, between the burning in my upper body and the numbness in my legs.
Hands landed on my hip. Tink. It was Tink. My wild gaze met his. “I have to,” he said as if he were pleading. “You can punch me in the throat for it later. Okay?”
They rolled me onto my side.
Someone screamed, and it sounded like a wounded animal getting run over by a tank. It took me a moment to realize it was me—I was making the horrible, ragged sound, and that was about when the world wanted to fade away again, but Ren wouldn’t let it.
“Keep those beautiful eyes open for me, Ivy. I know. I’m sorry, Sweetness. I’m so sorry. I know it hurts,” he said, and he kept talking as hands and fingers moved along my back, from my shoulders all the way down to the base of my spine. “It’s not too much longer. Okay? The doc is going to look at you and make you better.”
My back and stomach were on fire, burning through my chest. “We . . . have . . . a doctor?”
“We do.” His gaze flicked over my shoulder for the briefest second and then returned to mine. “She’s almost done. Just a few more seconds.” His lips pressed against my forehead. “You hanging in there, Sweetness?”
I thought I said yes. I know my lips moved, but I didn’t hear it. I didn’t think Ren did either, but then I was being laid back down and some of the hellfire was easing off—everything was easing off.
I faded out again, maybe for seconds, and when I came to, I thought I heard Ren saying, “Out there, she said she was sorry. Why would she say that?”
“I don’t know.” I thought that was Tink.
I felt Ren brushing the hair back from my cheek and then his face was directly in mine. He looked like he was screaming, but he sounded so very far away, like he was standing at the end of a tunnel.
“I’m here,” I rasped. “I’m still here.”
“Yeah, you are, Sweetness.” His smile was weak. “You’re here.”
“It’s not good,” the female said, the one who I guessed was a doctor. “None of this is good.”
“No shit, Sherlock. What do we need to do?” Tink demanded.
“I don’t think you’re understanding me,” she replied. “The lacerations in the back are deep—too deep. There are definitely internal injuries, and that’s what I can account for just from the stab wounds.”
“Okay. Then fix her,” Ren ordered.
The fae was hooking something up to an IV. “I’m not a surgeon. I have no experience with these types of wounds—”
“Then find a surgeon,” Ren snapped, his hand stilling along the crown of my head.
“We don’t have surgeons here,” Faye answered quietly. “We rarely have injuries like these. And when we do, we don’t use a doctor to heal. The fae will feed so they can heal themselves.”
“I’ll go get one.” Tink stepped back from the bed. “Just give me half an hour.”
Wait. What was he doing?
“You can’t just go get a doctor,” Faye argued. “I’m pretty sure that’s called kidnapping.”
“Do I look like I care?” Tink threw back. “Besides, I’ll get a doctor and then you can glamour them.”
“We don’t believe in doing that,” she stated. “We—”
“Are you kidding me?” Ren cut in. “I don’t care what you believe in. If we need to get a surgeon, then we’re going to get a fucking surgeon.”
“There isn’t time,” the female fae said, and the entire room quieted. “We don’t have time for that.”
“What?” breathed Ren, his gaze frantic.
Refusing to even blink, I stared at Ren’s face, letting my one good eye etch the hard line of his jaw and the curve of his cheekbone into my memories.
He was so beautiful, inside and out, and sometimes I didn’t think I deserved him and his—his goodness. Not when I wasted such precious time. This last week we could’ve done so much, filled up a lifetime worth of memories.
“I can give her blood. We have some of that here, but she’s a halfling,” she continued. “I have no idea what that will do to her—if it will help or hurt her.”
“Give her the blood,” Tink decided.
“Giving her blood is only going to give us a little more time, but not enough,” the female said. “Her blood pressure is dropping with every second. Her heart rate is too high. She’s lost too much blood and is still losing blood. She wouldn’t be stable enough for surgery. If she didn’t have fae blood in her, you wouldn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.”
Ren stared across the bed, the muscle along his jaw flexing. “What are you saying?”
I stopped listening at that point, because I think I already knew what she was going to try to explain to Ren. I didn’t hear her words, but I knew I was right. It was in Ren’s wide gaze when it swung to mine. I knew what she had said because of the denial that crept into his face and in the way his hand spasmed against my cool forehead. I didn’t have to hear her, because I heard Tink’s sudden shout of objection.
I was dying.
Not in a couple of days. Not in a few hours. I was dying right now.
“No. No. God, no.” Ren’s voice came back to me as he moved in, his hand splaying across my cheek. He pressed his forehead against mine. His voice was a ragged whisper. “This is not happening.”
I wanted to touch him. To wrap an arm around him, to comfort him, but I was too tired and my arms were too heavy.
“I’m not going to let you die. Hell no.” Ren kissed my brow, and when he pulled back, his lips were smeared with red—with my blood. His jaw tightened as he looked across the bed. “Keep her alive until I get back with a doctor.”
A doctor wasn’t going to help.
Voices erupted around me. There was pleading for Ren to be realistic and there were threats, most of them coming from Ren. Tink had grown quiet.
Drawing in a shuddering breath, I dragged my gaze from Ren’s, because I couldn’t deal with the pain crowding his face. I glanced around the room, snagging on a figure standing far back, against the wall, where Tanner had stood.
Merle.
She was staring at us, her face devoid of emotion, and for some reason I had the hardest time looking away, but then I couldn’t see her anymore. My eyelids were too heavy, but I heard Tink say softly, “There is another way.”