Watcher in the Darkness, Book 3: Imprisoned

Chapter 45, pt. 1

I have no idea how Michael kept going. By day three with less than an hour's sleep, his skin looked like bread dough. His hair stuck up at weird angles, and he jumped at every loud noise. His eyes were so bloodshot, he looked stoned. Or maybe feral.

I tried to help him as best I could, but I'm not a caregiver. "Suck it up" wouldn't keep the others from puking and shitting themselves feral. The best I could do was donate my room and stay out of Michael's way. I didn't mind. I had my own stuff to deal with. Any day, I expected a visit from Sebastian about respecting territory. Hell, if I didn't have a warrant out, it'd be a miracle.

It wouldn't have killed the High Council to send someone to help. They gave the Sanctuary enough cold blood to keep the others sane, but that's it. I wished I had the authority to make the established vampires do the right thing. Maybe, after I was Pure...I don't know.

My hand drifted to the leather bag Khalid had given me. It was still there, still tied shut. It still held my change of clothes, which was still wrapped around the chalice. The strap never left my shoulders, even when I slept. Not that I slept much.

I'd fed. I'd packed. I'd settled my affairs, such as they were. There was nothing left to do but kill time, and it wasn't going down easy.

I sat in one of the folding chairs in the common room, bent over my sketchbook. My hand flew across the paper so fast that the card table shook. Michael sat across from me, staring straight ahead without blinking.

"Are you sure it's going to happen tonight?" It surprised me that he'd spoken. I didn't think he was awake.

"It's the new moon," I said without looking up from my drawing. It had started as a self-portrait, but my hand had other ideas.

"Did that unholy spirit...Khalid. Did Khalid tell you the ritual would take place on this particular new moon? Did Karen?"

What the hell, did he think I wasn't anxious enough? "Not in so many words, no."

Michael winced when one of the vampires on the couch began to throw up into a plastic bucket. After what felt like forever, the horrible retching stopped. "It could be that Karen needs more time to prepare her side of the ritual."

I felt my eyebrows draw into a tight knot. "Maybe," I said, concentrating on shading. Turns out, the drawing was of Michael, exactly as he looked in that moment.

"What's one more year to someone like him? What's one more year to you?"

I shrugged. "That's cool. Until Khalid upholds his side of the bargain, Gwen is mine. I can think of a hundred uses for a fairy slave. Today."

Michael shook his head as his scowl deepened. "There are some forces that shouldn't be tampered with, Toby. Infernals and fairies top that list. Don't you remember the fairy tales you heard as a kid?"

I gave him a deadpan look.

"Oh. Right. Sorry. Anyway, trying to manipulate a fairy always backfires. They are the personification of chaos. There is no gain without sacrifice. That is the first law of nature. Those creatures are nature, terrible and beautiful, all at the same time."

"I'll take my chances. There are things that I'll need when I'm Pure. I should get it all while I still have that twink under my thumb."

"What sort of things?" Michael said, as though he didn't know.

"Territory. A herd. Money. A home. Unless you want me to live here forever."

"You are always welcome here."