“Look, there is no point in blaming anyone. The situation is what it is, and we need to get Remiel here now. So how do we, you know…summon him?” Lincoln tries to bring the conversation back around to the matter at hand.
No one answers him. “No one? No ideas?” he asks.
“He’s your ancestor,” Sebastian says to Xane. “Try and get him here.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” Xane asks. “I am not a ghost whisperer.”
And then the arguments ensue with everyone shouting over themselves. Lincoln stands back with his head in his hands.
“How long do you think until they notice I am already here?” a voice next to his ear asks.
He turns to the voice with a grimace and says, “Probably awhile at this rate. How did you know to come?”
“I always know when someone utters my name,” Remiel says mysteriously. “And I also know that she is stuck there with little to no food. It is making her docile.”
“If you knew that, then why didn’t you take her someone already?” he snaps at Remiel, who looks at him mildly.
“She didn’t ask,” he says nonchalantly.
“And it never occurred to you to just do it?”
“Well, no not really,” he says in surprise. “I suppose I should have, really. I am still new to this trying-to-help-and-not-kill business.”
“Fine, just go and take her, her Feeder. Please,” Lincoln says to him.
“What’s in it for me?” he asks slyly.
“The feeling that you get when you help someone. What more do you want?” Lincoln barks at him.
“I rarely do something for nothing, Wolf,” he snarls into a moment of silence that now has everyone finally noticing that he is here.
“Just do it!” Lincoln yells at him in desperation.
“Humph.” Remiel straightens his suit and looks less than pleased with his outburst. “Mind your manners.”
“Okay, I’m sorry for yelling, but you are the only way to get her what she needs. Please.” He tries to mollify him.
“Well, since you asked nicely now,” he says. “I will, however, be expecting a payment of some kind. I am sure I can negotiate better with Aefre. She seems to know how to do that very well.”
“Only because you leave her no choice,” Constantine says, stepping forward with Ramon, who has appeared out of nowhere. “I will pay whatever price you demand, just go to her.”
Remiel narrows his eyes at Constantine and they square off for a second, but then he relaxes. “Maybe you do have something you can give me,” Remiel says, but then grabs Ramon and disappears without another word. Lincoln is quite glad that he was not on the receiving end of that comment. It sounds ominous and, well, downright dangerous. He sits and focuses on Liv again. She is awake, but still in bed staring at the ceiling. She jumps a mile when Remiel appears by her side and Lincoln smiles.
“What are you doing here?” she hisses as he pushes Ramon towards her. “Drake will go ballistic if he finds you both here.”
“Your entourage insisted that you feed.” He sits on the bed and makes a “hurry up” gesture to her.
Entourage? Lincoln bursts out laughing, as he doesn’t take offense to that, but he is certain other members of this group would.
“Lincoln?” she snaps at him as she hears him. “What do you think you are doing?”
“Helping you,” he says out loud, making everyone’s eyes zero in on him.
“I didn’t ask for help,” she says, affronted.
“No, I know. You never do. Now just be a good girl and drink up.”
She is stubborn enough to refuse and he thinks for a second that she is going to, but then she looks hungrily at Ramon and dives onto him with gusto. Crap. He hopes that either she pulls back or Remiel pulls her off. “We should have sent two,” he mutters, but then sighs in relief when she pulls back. “Feel better?” he asks smartly.