Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)(33)

I was about to ask what on earth they were talking about regarding Navan’s “main base” and “Alaska,” when the nausea I had been experiencing on-and-off for the past hour increased ten-fold, and I found myself buckling at the knees. I fell backward out of the ship, tumbling to the grass and gripping my head as a searing pain tore through my brain.

“Riley!” I heard my friends cry, and then Angie was there, by my side. Navan, too, was there, kneeling next to me. I was seeing double as he stared at my face, his brows knotted in a frown.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“We didn’t take the Elysium,” Angie said, and Navan’s eyes snapped toward her. “Sorry!” she added quickly, holding up her hands, “but you’re crazy if you think we’d be okay with just forgetting everything we found out! When we went into the house to talk, we found a bowl of vials, which Riley had spotted you drinking from earlier, so we figured that they probably wouldn’t do us much harm, and we could do a switch— but don’t get mad! Because if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have known to come and fetch you when we overheard Jethro and Ianthan plotting—”

“Oh, for Rask’s sake,” Navan said, and I wasn’t sure who Rask was, but the way he said it made it sound like a very bad swear word. His stormy eyes zoned in on me. “What did it taste like—the liquid you drank?”

I opened my lips to respond, my throat feeling painfully parched. “Slightly salty.”

Navan swore again, and his boiling hot hands pressed against my forehead, his thumbs lifting up my eyelids, despite the fact I was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to let them close.

“Oh no,” Angie gasped. “Why are her eyes doing that?!”

“Doing what?” I asked, trying not to panic.

Navan looked at me, his face blurring. “Clouding over.”

My vision continued to blur, as though a blind was being slowly drawn over my eyeballs.

“And what about you two—what did yours taste like?” Navan asked Angie and Lauren, a renewed sense of urgency in his tone.

“Mine didn’t taste salty at all—it was slightly sweet,” Angie replied.

“Mine too,” Lauren added.

Navan exhaled sharply. “That bowl of vials contained a mixture of substances. What you two most likely drank was the blood of white deer—which, although a species native to Vysanthe, shouldn’t have much of an effect on you earthlings. On the other hand, it sounds like what Riley drank was silver root—a type of stimulant, similar to coffee for us coldbloods, but much too strong for human consumption. It seems like it took a while for the effects to kick in, as it’s known to be a slow-acting substance, but now…” His voice trailed off, and his silence frightened me.

“Now what?” I choked, nearly blind as the mist thickened over my eyes.

“Navan,” Ianthan’s hoarse voice spoke up from somewhere to my right. “Go to Alaska now, and you can kill two birds with one stone. Fetch your tools and take the girl with you to fix up. You have a loaded apothecary in storage, don’t you? I’m sure you can figure out an antidote with the ingredients you have there.”

There was a pause and I heard Navan take a deep breath. “I can’t be mad at you, because if you had taken the Elysium, we’d have no clue about Jethro and Ianthan. Also, Ianthan’s right—I’ve got the ingredients I need for an antidote. You’re going to be okay, Riley. But you, Ianthan.” His voice took on a harder edge. “I still haven’t decided what to do with you. I’m not letting you out my sight—you will travel with us. Lauren and Angie, you’ll need to take care of Bashrik, as well as be here for Ronad in case he needs assistance. His treatment is mostly complete now, but it’ll be several days before his strength has returned. I’ll extract the bullet out of Bashrik, and then give you some medication to feed him—I have a small stock in the ship that I will leave you with, along with instructions.”

“What will we tell the Churnleys?! How long will you be gone for?” Angie asked.

I heard Navan swallow. “I don’t know what you’ll tell them, but we won’t be gone much longer than twenty-four hours…I hope.”





Chapter Twelve





Angie helped me into a chair, and I was mostly in a daze as Navan and Ianthan darted about the yard, between the ship and the house, preparing to leave. I could tell what was going on primarily by my sense of hearing, given that my eyesight remained blurry.

I heard Bashrik groan as Navan extracted the bullet, and then Navan spoke in hurried tones regarding an assortment of ointments he was leaving with the girls.

What felt like fifteen minutes and a lot of confusion later, Navan and Ianthan had made the necessary preparations, and I sensed them approaching. Through my hazy vision, I could see that Navan had washed the blood off of himself, and had a black shoulder bag slung over his back. Ianthan was clutching what appeared to be a thick puffer coat.

Navan bent down to tug some sort of shirt over me, and then picked me up. I flinched, expecting his unbearable heat to course through me once again and cause my head to split in two, but to my surprise, his temperature was moderate—on the warm side, but more than bearable.

“Wh-What happened?” I managed, as one of his arms slid beneath my knees, the other around my waist. He picked me up and held me against his chest, and I put my arms around his neck for extra stability. Though my vision was still blurry, I felt… inexplicably safe in his arms. Ordinarily, I would’ve insisted on walking on my own two feet, but I was too woozy to pretend that I could even stand, and the gentleness of his touch made my whole body relax.