A Gift of Three (A Shade of Vampire #42)(38)

Serena





[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]




After the Druid left, we sat around the table in silence. My food lay half-eaten and forgotten on my plate. I tried not to picture my older brother, lying on that cold table-top, waiting for some supernatural transformation to take its effect. What would he be like when he woke up? The Druid had told us nothing about what it might be like—if he would be blind, for goodness’ sake! I looked over at Field and Jovi…were they worrying about the same things?

“We should try to get some rest,” Field said.

Rest? It was the last thing I felt like doing.

“How can we sleep?” I replied.

Jovi looked as surprised as I felt. Field looked pointedly at me.

“You need rest, Serena, you’re fading—fast.”

I shook my head. “I don’t care about that. I want…” I trailed off. What did I want? For none of this to be happening. That was what I wanted, and that was the one thing that wasn’t an option.

“Do you need to syphon, Serena?” Jovi asked.

“Tomorrow,” I replied, “not now. I’ve eaten a bit, I can wait.”

“Bed,” Field repeated. “We all need some rest. Tomorrow we can think about all this with fresh perspective.”

I raised an eyebrow at Field.

“And you?” I asked. He, like the rest of the Hawk boys, never needed much sleep—and he often slept outdoors.

“I’ll be on the roof. But I’ll be close, okay?” he replied.

“Okay,” I said, rising from the table. “I guess we rest then.”

I waited for the other two at the doorway, much less willing to move around the house alone now that it was night-time. They got up from the table, Jovi moving like he was in a daze. I took his arm and squeezed, hoping to offer him whatever small bit of comfort I could. He smiled dully at me, and we all made our way through the main entrance and then ascended the staircase.

“Call if you need anything.” Jovi turned to me as we moved to part ways, the boys moving toward the right of the hallway, and me to the left.

“I will. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

I dragged my body along to my allocated room, the tiredness suddenly hitting me. I guessed the time difference here was taking its toll. It had been the middle of the night when the Druid had taken us from the fire star, and so I’d lost out on a full night’s sleep. I pushed open the door to my room, hating the pitch darkness that met me. I felt around for the lamp by the side of the bed, which had gone out since I left, and then blindly hunted for the matches. After a few mistaken fumbles, I got the wick lit and the room was suffused with yellow light.

I opened both windows as wide as they could go. It didn’t make much difference to the temperature of the room, but at least it would make it smell less musty. Leaning out, I could hear the ropes of moss moving gently in the branches with what small amount of breeze there was, and the hush of what sounded like cricket calls. The latter was reassuring just because it was familiar to me.

I sat on the bed, wondering how I was going to sleep with my head whirring the way it was and the blanket of heat that was drenching me in perspiration. I decided to take another shower, carrying the lamp into the bathroom with me and placing it down at a safe distance from the water.

When I was clean, I wrapped myself in the towel, dreading putting on my pajamas, which, quite frankly, were starting to seriously smell. I walked back to the wardrobe, pulling open the doors. It was empty as I recalled, but this time I noticed a single drawer beneath and tugged it open. The moldy scent was unpleasant, but I found neatly folded fabrics, and started to pull them out one by one, hoping there might be something I could wear in bed.

I found some bed-sheets, the same off-white ones that were currently covering the bed, an old woolen shawl that had seen better days, and then, at the bottom of the pile, two white nightdresses—once again, about as old-fashioned as possible, with long white sleeves with lace cuffs and a high, frilly collar. Under any other circumstances, I would have laughed at the thought of wearing something as ridiculous as this. I suddenly found myself missing Aida and Vita so much it made my heart hurt. I just wanted them to wake up—wake up and be perfectly fine, and exactly the same as they always had been, so they could laugh at me in this stupid nightgown.

After getting dressed, I started to wash my pajamas in the shower. They could dry overnight, and at least they’d be clean.

Once that was done, I started to pace the room. I was too shaken to sleep, and half contemplating the idea of going to see if Jovi was still awake, but I couldn’t hear any other sounds coming from the house. Either he’d managed to sleep, or he was at least trying to.

Do the same, idiot. Get some rest.

I placed the lamp next to the bed and shoved the sheets aside. Gingerly I climbed in, hating the smell of mildew and damp that wafted off the bedding. I lay back, staring up at the ceiling and unwilling to blow out the light.

My body felt exhausted, and it sank into the mattress gratefully, but my mind was tuned into every slight sound—every creak of plumbing or groan of the old house. It kept me irritatingly alert, my adrenaline spiking every time I heard a noise that sounded unfamiliar to me.

“Serena…Serena.”

I sat bolt upright in bed.