Pulse

Chapter 34

Lucie

Caprice, thankfully, didn't lollygag. She appeared at Cian's window around ten minutes after I'd called her, dressed in skinny jeans and a rather edgy leather jacket that fit her in a way that made me want to own it myself. Her makeup job was immaculate, cherry-red lips and lengthy eyelashes as dark as coal. As I opened the window to let her in (the fact she was entering this way and not through a door should have been stranger to me, but I was beginning to realize angels were weird like that), I couldn't help thinking that she was closer to what came to mind at the word angel: graceful and striking, seemingly with no flaws.

She even pulled off a cropped haircut, which not every woman could do.

Caprice slid herself over Cian's desk and landed on the rug before his bed, eyes narrowing at his limp figure tangled in the sheets. They were pulled up over his head; now he looked like a wrinkled blob of linen.

"Thanks again," I said to her, observing her carefully as her eyes roved over the writhing Cian.

She gave me a brief once-over, and I did my best not to squirm. "You're the one, huh? No wonder he's into you. You're pretty—at least for a human."

I didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or not, thanks to the last line. So I just grunted and accompanied her to the bedside. As I softly tried to pry the sheets off Cian, who was groaning audibly in protest, Caprice asked, "Where's his brother? The ghost. I imagine he must be around here somewhere. His type are always clingy."

Vinny appeared on the other side of the bed, his hands fists at his sides. He gnawed at his lip, eyebrow risen. "You're not here for me," he replied forcibly. "You're here for Cian. So do what you came to do."

Caprice paused for a moment to shoot Vinny a withering look, which he returned, and then I cleared my throat, hoping to clear the sour air. With more effort, I was able to tear the sheets back, as Cian wasn't strong enough to fight me at the moment. He winced, shoving his face down into the pillow and whining.

Caprice's dark eyes went wide; she brushed an astray hair behind her ear and gritted her teeth. "Geez, little one," she murmured, "what type of demon were you meddling with?"

"Is it bad?" I asked, as we both looked at the rash spreading over Cian's back, black and bleeding. I was trying to stay calm, but on the inside, I felt like I was imploding. This is your fault. If you'd been paying attention...

Cian breathed out and rolled, ignoring me and Vinny's audible protests. He kept his eyes clinched shut as he maneuvered himself to his side, muttering under his breath and biting back a scream. "Caprice?" he asked, and blinked, opening his eyes. Caprice cursed, pressing a hand to her mouth. I made eye contact with Vinny. What if we were putting too much of our trust in her? Could she do any more than we could?

"Funny this is how we meet again," Cian said, with a laugh that briskly turned into a cough.

"You're right," Caprice decided, glancing at me. "He is dying. And I know why."

Cian grunted. "I'm not dying—"

"Shut up," said the three others in the room in unison.

Vinny sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair and casting an almost paternal glance in his brother's direction. Their relationship, to me, was strange to observe; Vinny was nothing if not fiercely protective of Cian, even though he was the younger of the two. I supposed, though, that's the kind of thing that happened when your brother was as reckless as Cian. "What do you mean you know why? It's not just the demon venom?"