Moonlight's Ambassador (Aileen Travers Book 3)(77)

That's how it was normally. Right now, there was the smell of rot in the air, and the trees around me looked sick. This was the reason I couldn't force the black ichor out. It hadn't just infected my body, but the heart of me as well.

My bare feet whispered across the land as I walked my forest, noting where the trees' roots were beginning to decay. I hadn't the first clue as to what was needed to fix this. This task seemed too big for me, too far along. Maybe if I'd had the thought sooner.

I came to the large oak in a clearing that I suspected resided in the center of all this. The oak had two visible wounds on it and was leaking the black oily substance that pervaded the rest of this place.

As if in a dream, I walked up to it and touched it, my fingers coming away covered in black sludge. I stood back and looked at the tree. Already leaves were falling as whatever this was drained the life from it.

I stepped close and put my hand on the tree again, closing my eyes and envisioning a bubble around the taint. My thoughts fought for purchase, wanting to run in all kinds of directions. Gradually though, I felt that bubble flicker into place, containing it. For the moment.

I had no idea what to do now. I couldn't stay here forever working to contain this thing. Eventually, I'd run out of energy. Already I could feel myself flagging. Not to mention staying here would be the equivalent of being in a waking coma.

Last time I was here, I used the power from Liam and Peter's marks to drive away the demon. Perhaps they could help me this time too. I reached for those strands only for them to slip out of my grasp time and time again, the effort exhausting me.

"Shit," I said, looking up at my tree.

The shadow of a wolf appeared at my side. It bared its fangs at me, and then attacked the dead spots on the tree, ripping pieces of it away. Pain flared, like someone was ripping pieces of me away.

I screamed and flung out my hands. The wolf flew back, hitting the ground with a yelp and disappearing.

I panted in the aftermath, my strength spent. Going back to the tree, I touched the damaged parts. They were smooth with no hint of the black ichor.

I glanced back at where the wolf had disappeared. So that's why. Made sense. Sometimes the only thing to do with rot is to cut it out at the source.

I turned back to the tree and attacked the weak spots, my hands forming claws as I yanked and pulled, scooping out the bad. This was a dream, with dream rules. It meant I was able to yank and carve out the wood of the tree, when in the real world, I would have needed a chainsaw or an ax. Perhaps Liam could have done it with his bare hands, but he’d had centuries to strengthen.

Pain bit and nipped at me as I worked. It was like someone was taking a dull spoon to my psyche and carving it up one small bite at a time. I screamed and worked faster. This would not defeat me. I would not go out like this.

I worked until I couldn't see anymore, until the tree's sap flowed free of the black. Then I collapsed face down on the dirt, the world around me turning dark.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

WATER SURROUNDED ME when I opened my eyes. It was dark, the gloom unrelenting. I opened my mouth and choked as the liquid ran into it. I thrashed, fear of drowning swamping me, my hands beating at the sides of the metal coffin I found myself in. For a long moment, I thought they'd buried me, thinking I was already dead.

I screamed, and did my best to pound on the lid, trying to force it up. It resisted before sliding away. I exploded from the water, dragging in a deep breath as soon as I was out.

Panting, I clawed at the gunk covering my eyes, wiping them clear as best I could. My hands were red, and I looked down at the water I sat in. It was black with a ruby tinge. Blood. They'd put me in a coffin and submerged me in blood.

My gorge rose.

"Don't you dare throw up any of it," Nathan ordered from the corner of the room.

I swallowed back the vomit, my chest heaving as I tried very hard not to think about what coated my body. I might have been a vampire, but I still had a human's squeamishness. Not many people I knew would welcome the idea of bathing in someone's blood. At least no one out of the Romanian dark ages. There was a countess around then who liked bathing in young virgins' blood, thinking it would keep her young; I had no such illusions.

"Why am I sitting in blood?" I managed to get out through the panic threatening to steal my voice. There was no way all of this had come from just one person. The average human body only holds about 1.2-1.5 gallons of blood. There had to be several gallons in this thing.

"The bite was pretty brutal. You almost died. Thomas and Liam thought this was the best way to make sure you didn't," he said.

"And how many people did they kill to ensure that?" I asked.

His lips twisted. "None. It's all vampire blood. Your conscience can rest easy."

"Vampire blood?"

"Best thing for healing. Full of power and restorative properties. You should feel honored. I don't remember the last time they opened a vein for someone."

I looked down at the blood cradling my lower half. "This is too much to have come from just the two of them."

Nathan held out his hand. I grasped it and let him help me out of the metal coffin. My legs wobbled under me, and I would have fallen if Nathan hadn't caught me, uncaring as the blood stained his clothes.

"You underestimate a master vampire’s healing ability. They both had to top up on human blood a few times, but they were able to fill the tub with just the two of them," he said as he helped me over to a chair.