It was the scent of iron that wake me up.
It wasn't iron per se, but the scent was all too familiar to me. My eyes snapped open and I turned over to see Drake next to me in my bed, on his back and staring hard up at the ceiling. His body felt rigid as he gritted his teeth. His skin glowed with sweat and I saw the muscles in his jaw jut out against the skin. His wings folded underneath him, but they twitched and fluttered as if trying to get off his body.
"Drake, what's wrong?" I said, flinging the blanket off and seeing blood seeping out of the wound on his arm. It looked like someone cut into it and now the blood around it was bubbling. The veins around the area were jet black. Around the edges of the cut oozed green. "Drake, what is this?"
"Magic," he hissed.
"Is this supposed to happen?" I asked as I put a pillow under his head. He groaned.
"Yes, unfortunately." He said, "it's working and the damn dwarf will give me my money's worth."
Dwarves? Dwarves hated working with the courts. They have egos and believe that their work was uniquely theres. Dwarves were also one of the few faeries that couldn't handle iron for short periods of time without dying.
"What are you talking about?" I asked him as I folded my knees under me. Drake closed his eyes. He tried repressing the pain and steam came out of the wound.
"Water," he gasped as his eyes opened and stared into mine. The pupils grew huge as I got up and ran to the kitchen. I got a glass and filled it with water. What was going on? I tried searching my brain for this, but I didn't know. I really didn't know. I ran back into the room and pressed his lips to the water and he took large gulps.
"Gods, I forgot how disgusting your water is," Drake said gagging.
"Sorry I don't live by Fiji," I said as I put a wet cloth over his forehead. He sighed as he closed his eyes. He relaxed a little bit as I leaned back. Maybe I could sew it back up? The thought made my stomach twist. Maybe I couldn't get Lowell to come here? That might work, but how would I explain everything? And would Lowell be able to see Drake now? I looked through my good eye and didn't see Drake. As much pain as Drake was, he still put up a wall of glamour around him to protect himself.
I looked down at him to see him smirking. I wasn't sure how he could be in such a cocky mood when his arm was starting to smell vaguely like a dead cat on the highway.
His smirk deepened, but he winced suddenly. A muscle in his jaw popped out. "I have an odd request for you."
"What? Do I need to go find the queen of the faeries? Or do I need to find a magic man in the highest mountain? Or-"
I stopped and looked at him. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
I kind of hoped I misheard him, but it's only my eyesight that's off in the real world. Not my hearing.
"What do you mean by 'touch you'?"
"Touch me like you would Lowell."
"Hell no!" I jumped away from him.
"Correction," Drake said, eying me, "the way you want to touch Lowell."
"Go to hell."
He winced a bit and I kind of thought he deserved it. What the hell was he doing messing with magic anyway? Magic always has a price. Or at least, that's how I understood it. Drake sighed as he sat up or at least tried to. "Matty, don't make me ask again."
YOU ARE READING
White Roses - ReVampedFantasy
How do you pretend not see a red cap killing something in the middle of the city? Matty has had sight since she was eight-years-old. She's lived her life avoiding giants in her high school's field, pixies pulling pranks on her college professors...