Some things were worse than death. Like languishing away in a sterile hospital chamber with nothing but the hum and ding of machines to keep you company.
Nika was restless. Bored. Despite her pestering, the nurse hadn't revealed a drop of information regarding what was happening in the world beyond. Nika didn't even know how or when she'd gotten to Konstantin Academy. And though it had been nearly an hour since she'd woken, visitors had failed to show up. It probably had something to do with the glaring sunlight that streamed through a crack in the curtains.
Damn Daemonstri night schedules. Enough is enough.
If the near-deathly nothingness in the corridor was any indication, now was her only chance to escape. So she carefully removed the needle from her arm, shuddering at the sight of its length, then threw off the sheets. Ignoring the airiness of the hospital gown, she kept her ears alert for footsteps, voices, the squeak of a wheelchair.
If anyone spotted her, she'd be damned. Keepers would be hunting her in no time. And given the fact that she could barely move without dancing on the brink of death, the odds of fighting or outrunning them weren't just bad—they were non-existent.
Nika scooted to the edge of the mattress and flung one leg over, gritting against the pain that shot through her torso. They'd done some kind of surgery, but she'd been too shocked and terrified to ask for details.
At a snail's pace, she slid off, planting her bare feet on the frigid tile. She'd made it only a few more steps when a familiar, colossal figure entered, sporting a disapproving glare. The door slammed behind him, as irrevocable as a pounding gavel.
"I can explain," Nika said as Ren set down two paper cups on a tray at the foot of the bed. "I was actually coming to find you."
"Of course you were."
Disregarding his sarcasm, she continued, "Because I want to know what's been going on." In two strides, he swallowed the space between them, and when she stepped away, she met the resistance of his hand on her back. "And to"—Ren gently lifted her into his arms, and a pained groan slipped past her lips—"make sure you're okay."
Utterly unbaited, he carried Nika back to bed and adjusted the blankets over her. She made sure he felt the full intensity of her scowl before easing into the pillows.
"I suppose this means you're feeling better?" Ren said, scanning her body as if he could see the shape of every bruise and the depth of each cut.
"I'm getting there."
Ren retrieved the paper cups from the tray. "Here." Nika frowned first at the water, and then at the pair of round tablets, cocking a brow in question. "Painkillers—since you're refusing to take blood pills."
With a guilty shrug, Nika took the medicine, washing it down with the water. As he discarded the cups, Ren said, "Sorry about the wait. I told the nurse to get me when you first woke, but since I'm not family . . . "
"You'd think that rule wouldn't apply at a boarding school." But the mentioning of family brought a name to the forefront of Nika's mind. "Is Lu—"
"She decided to sleep in her dorm today. I sent Misha to get her." Nika nodded, expelling a breath in relief. "It will be a while before they arrive. You should rest."
A scoff. "I've been sleeping for over twenty-four hours, Ren. And who are you to say I need rest? You look like a zombie."
With a sigh, he eased into the cushioned chair to the left of the bed and scrubbed his face. "Too busy with the cleanup for sleep."
Nika studied the circles beneath his eyes, the shadow of stubble across his jaw. "You mean, busy with distractions."
Ren opened his mouth, as if to protest, but when his dark eyes landed on Nika's face, he shut it again, frowning. She reached across the small space between them, brushing her knuckles down his arm. Even at that simple touch, her blood sparked with warmth, and a peacefulness settled into her bones.
"Is it Emil?" she whispered.
Though he hadn't explicitly confessed it, Ren revered the man. And despite her frustration about the coveted answers that had died with the High Keeper, Nika couldn't help wondering how Ren was coping with it. If he was coping at all . . .
He stared at her hand. "Emil. Elliot. Dozens of keepers." He turned his arm over, snatching her fingers. "You."
"I'm not dead yet."
"You were close." He huffed a laugh, but it carried more cynicism than amusement. "Markos is going to fire me."
"Not after I tell him how you kept me alive, even when I wouldn't cooperate with you."
He squeezed her fingers. "Nika . . . if you want to be a keeper—a good one—you need to learn how to follow orders."
She studied the geometric pattern of the blanket draping her legs. "I know."
"But a little defiance can be healthy, especially if you receive orders that you know are wrong." He leaned closer, lifting her chin so she'd meet his gaze. "You have a big heart, but you also have a sharp mind. Use them both."
She swallowed. "I'll try."
Ren cleared his throat and sank back into the chair. "Well, if I truly look like a zombie, maybe I should get some sleep."
"Sexy zombie," Nika corrected with a wink.
He turned his head toward the ceiling, but she didn't fail to notice the color in his cheeks. "That's not a thing," he said.
"I don't know. Miles was decent—for a corpse."
Ren's laugh rumbled like an engine, seeping into the walls, the very foundations of the building. It brought such delight to hear it that Nika joined him, only for a painful spasm to bombard her torso.
When the ache subsided, she said, "What happened to him? Miles."
"With all the bullet holes we put in him . . . " Ren shook his head. "His family plans to cremate him."
"It's probably for the best," Nika said. "And Asteroth?"
"Gone. Keepers collected the broken pieces of the amulet, and I've ordered them to be ground down to sand."
"Good. Any other news?"
"Yesterday afternoon, agents of the Fellowship arrived, demanding answers about what happened at the cemetery."
The Fellowship. In decades past, the Ministry and Vigil had brokered a treaty with that human organization. They had promised to acknowledge the Serafi and Nefili community, so long as supernatural conflicts were kept far from human civilization. The graveyard was a resting place for both species, however, which meant the Fellowship would be prying into the matter.
"How much did you tell them?" Nika asked.
"Nothing yet. They've been invited to an assembly here at Konstantin." A long, wary look. "And so has the Ministry."
Nika scooted upright, gaping. "But Ministers only have meetings at the Hall of Valentine."
"They want to interview everyone involved."
Oldbloods save me, she thought.
"So I told them to bring their pompous asses here, because I'm not going to transport a dozen wounded keepers and a comatose girl all the way to headquarters."
"Did you really say 'pompous asses'?"
A wince. "It sort of . . . slipped."
She pressed her lips together, smothering the laughter and the pain that would accompany it. "And the Volkari?"
"They've scattered. The possible locations of their camp site have proven to be dead ends, but we're still hunting. Some wolves that we detained after the battle were sent to a Vigil prison last night. I haven't heard whether or not it went smoothly."
"Was Dante among them?"
"No. He fled with the others."
"Good. I don't want to see that mutt's face again unless it's served to me on a platter."
For a minute, Ren grew unnervingly quiet. "I might be able to arrange that."
Nika thought he'd been joking until she found his steady stare. "Ren," she warned. "He's the alpha's nephew. The backlash would be detrimental."
"Then I suppose you'll have to settle for your imagination."
"If only it weren't otherwise occupied."
He raised his brows. "By what?"
"Dreams . . . of you drinking my blood." She slid a hand over his shoulder, his body heat seeping into it. "Let me see."
No further explanation was needed. Ren stood, and with a bobbing throat, he removed his black t-shirt. Under the bright lights of the infirmary room, every defined muscle, bulging vein, and masculine angle was exposed. Nika pressed a palm against the soft spot beneath his sternum, through which Asteroth had driven the machete. His ivory skin was smooth to the touch.
"There's not even a scratch," she murmured. "Is the bloodcraft always that . . . potent?"
"No," he ground out.
She dragged a finger over his chiseled abdomen, smirking when a trail of pebbled flesh formed in its wake. The lower she traveled, the harder Ren's breathing became. And when her hand dipped below his navel, he seized her wrist.
Ebony eyes burned through her. "Don't play games."
"What makes you think I was playing?" With a pointed look, Ren pulled the shirt back over his head.
The success of the desperate feeding unnerved Nika. "Do you think I'm . . . defective? When I drank your blood, it felt like stealing a piece of your soul. And then you saw my memories when you drank mine. What if my blood is like poison? Heavenly for a while, and then bam! you're dead."
Ren dropped onto a space at the edge of the mattress, and with a fist planted on the other side of her legs, he trapped her, aiming a look so intense that gooseflesh crawled up Nika's arms and neck.
"You are not defective." Dark conviction laced those words. "You are not tainted."
"Then how can I use telepathy? Dante claims I'm a Volkari, but I can't shift, and I don't have superior hearing or night vision. Wolves are supposed to be big and strong, but look at me." She gestured to her petite form. "And yet I can read minds? I'm like some cosmic mistake."
Ren bared his teeth, but Nika knew his anger wasn't directed at her. "Did it ever occur to you that your abilities might be a sign of greatness?"
"I don't feel great, I feel different." Her voice strained, along with a familiar ache in her heart. "I don't want to be different. Being different makes you a target, especially in our world."
"If you go through life assuming the worst of everyone, you'll die alone," he said, somehow managing a tone that was both stern and gentle.
"I don't assume the worst of everyone."
"You were convinced that Elliot was dating Lu to spy on you. Despite everything I did to keep you safe, you wouldn't trust me until you almost died. And as for Markos—"
"Leave him out of this."
Ren's hand locked around her jaw, the kind of grip used on a misbehaving child. It made her seethe, but she listened as he said, "You're not wrong. He's failed many times as a father because of his position in the Ministry. But he needs to play his part, and sometimes it involves neglecting you. No matter how agonizing that is for him."
She pried his fingers from her face, saying, "Then why won't he quit?"
"Because he's trying to make the world a better place—for you. For all halfbloods. He even wanted to help the Volkari." Ren raised his hand again, from which Nika turned away, but he only tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "He isn't a callous man. You know that."
"Lu is my family. As long as I have her, I don't need Markos."
"She cannot be your only reason for living. What if she hadn't survived the ritual? What would you have done?"
Nika remained silent.
"Do you regret not telling Elliot how your opinion of him changed?" She nodded. "Then reconcile with Markos. Before it's too late."
"And then what? I live for him, too? What happens if he and Lu both die?"
Ren scanned her face, his frown deepening. "You also need to live for yourself."
"How?" She'd meant for it to be a demand, but it sounded more like a plea.
"Learn to value yourself as an individual. Not as a keeper, or a sister, or a friend. But as you, Nika."
She shook her head, scoffing. Learn to value myself?
"It would be a lot easier if there was someone to tell you that you matter," Ren continued, a rawness entering his voice. "To worry about you every hour of every day. To remind you that you're not defective, or a mistake. To protect you like they were sworn to do so."
He slipped his fingers into her hair, thumb stroking her cheek, and suddenly, the whole world focused on the two of them.
"To help you be a better version of yourself and accept you, despite your flaws."
A breath hitched in her throat. "Where would I find such a person?"
"Nika . . . don't play games." He swallowed. "Do you want me to be your keeper, or something more?"
"You were never just my keeper."
"Nika?"
A tether between them snapped, as if Lu's voice were a blade. Ren swiftly rose to his feet and slipped his hands into his pockets—a thief caught in the middle of his crime. Nika restrained the urge to mock him.
Lu and Misha entered the room, and the former had eyes as wide and hopeful as lavender skies. "Are you okay?"
Nika grinned at her sister-friend. "I am now."
Lu rushed forward, and they collided in an embrace. Despite how hard they squeezed each other, Nika didn't feel any pain. Perhaps that was because of the medicine, or because of her overwhelming joy at this reunion.
They were still clinging to each other when Nika's gaze found the two keepers lingering by the door. Watching. Nika mouthed her gratitude for all their help, and they smiled in return.