Both gentlemen quickly set to the task. One of them held Alexander’s writhing body while the other stripped off his clothes, leaving him in just a shirt and breeches.
Alexander’s piercing cry shot through the crypt, the painful sound rebounding off the ceiling and hitting her like a shower of knives.
“He feels so damn hot,” Elliot complained as he touched Alexander’s brow.
Ivana hurried forward with the bowl and the linen cloth. The sound of trickling water was only just audible amongst Alexander’s cries and groans. Smoothing the damp cloth over his brow proved to be too difficult a task. With arms flailing wildly, he knocked Ivana back.
“I think we should compel him to sleep,” Ivana said as his face turned claret red. “I think we should do it now.”
“Very well.” Elliot sucked in a ragged breath. “Put your hands on him and will him to sleep.”
“Just help him, please.” Evelyn’s plea was barely louder than a whisper.
Ivana, Elliot, and Leo surrounded Alexander. They knelt beside him, one hand touching hi
s chest, their eyes all closed as they muttered their silent prayers.
Evelyn watched with bated breath, willing them to succeed.
Another minute passed before Alexander’s breathing slowed to a more regular pace. All cries of anguish ceased. The room felt suddenly calm and still like the air after a heavy storm.
Thank heavens. Evelyn sagged with relief. “Sweet dreams, my love.”
Hours passed. Only his faint mumbles, the changing hue of his complexion from alabaster to claret and the odd trickle from his brow alerted them to the fact he was still of this world.
Evelyn lay by his side, despite Elliot’s plea for her to rest, to quench her thirst and take sustenance. Nothing else could soothe her now. She closed her eyes, lingered in the place just before sleep, the magical place where one created their own versions of dreams.
“Eve … Eve.”
She opened her eyes with a start, sat up and scoured his face. Hope faded when she realised he was still locked in a deep form of stasis. Then his mouth twitched, the top lip rising up over his gum. The white points of his fangs appeared from their fleshy sheath, extending until they touched his bottom lip.
She glanced back over her shoulder to where Leo and Elliot sat on the floor. “Look at this,” she said quietly for fear of disturbing Alexander.
They jumped to their feet and rushed over to her side.
“What is it?” they said in unison.
“It’s his fangs.” Evelyn raised his upper lip fully. As soon as her finger brushed against the odd-shaped tooth, it fell from the gum into her hand. With a gasp, she stared at the shiny white weapon lying in her palm. “What does it mean?”
Was he dying? Was he cured?
“I don’t know.” Elliot touched the other one, and it came away, too. “Perhaps it is part of the healing process.”
Leo sighed. “Do you think we should attempt to wake him?”
A frown marred Elliot’s brow. “Let’s wait a little longer.”
Evelyn curled her fingers around Alexander’s fang. It was part of him. The memory of the night she first saw them flashed into her mind, the memory of the first time she had not been afraid. He had led her down to the river, joined with her, loved her. She clenched her hand tight, the treasure inside worth more to her than the rarest diamond.
Grace returned carrying a plate with sliced apple and cheese. “Is he awake?” she asked with excitement.
Evelyn shook her head.
“Here, I brought you this.” Grace offered her the plate. “You need to eat, Evelyn. You must stay strong.”
Evelyn nodded and put the plate on the floor at her side. “Where is Ivana?”
Grace’s lips thinned. “She’s sitting in the Great Hall. Watching him like this, seeing the pain, the guilt is too much for her.”