It’s awful telling someone you love bad news.
“If part of Lucas really has come back to life, then he could get sick. And drinking unfiltered blood is a really good way to get a terrible disease.”
Eliza purses her lips, and more tears fill her eyes. She blinks them away, but a fat tear escapes, streaking mascara down her cheek. “Fine. I’ll…I’ll be right back then.”
Without another word, she speeds out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her.
“Where is she going?” I ask.
“A blood bank,” Lucas mumbles, eyes falling shut.
“Oh.” I don’t want to ask if she’s breaking in or murdering everyone inside in order to steal bags of filtered, safe-to-consume blood. “You should try and sleep until she comes back.”
“So should you.”
“I’m going to keep watch over you. I’ll sleep when we get home.”
Lucas takes my hand and tugs me to him. I perch on the side of the couch, eyes going to the bandage on his stomach. It’s not stained with blood, which is good, but I’m too scared to look at the wound. I don’t want to see his skin torn and bruised.
“You’re always covered in blood.”
I look down at my shirt and nod. “At least this time it’s not mine, right?”
“Take a shower.”
“Not until Eliza comes back.”
“Wrong answer.” He smiles. “You’re supposed to say not without you.”
“Normally, I’d be all over that. But I don’t think you should get your stitches wet yet. I’ll give you a sponge bath or something to clean off most of the blood. And don’t even think about it. We’re not having sex tonight. You need to rest.”
“You are my new wife. We’re having sex.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
He slides his fingers up my wrist, finding my pulse point. “I can make you in the mood.”
I pull my hand out of his, knowing he can. Easily. “Sleep,” I tell him, but he starts to get up.
“This isn’t comfortable,” he tells me, and I help him to his feet. We slowly make our way up the curved staircase and onto the second level of this huge house. The master bedroom is right off the landing, but Eliza has taken it over. There are a handful of other rooms, and I start for the closest one.
Telekinetically opening the door, I conjure a ball of white light so I can see. Something squeaks and scuttles away. I blink rapidly, trying to make sense of what’s in front of me.
The bed has been taken out of the room, and several large cages are against the wall. A large metal pen is set up in the middle of the room, and two little guinea pigs peek out from under a fleece blanket at me.
“Miss Piggy,” Lucas starts. “You’re still alive. I’m surprised.”
I increase the magic in the ball of energy, lighting up the room even more. It’s been completely converted to what I can only describe as a luxury guinea pig hotel.
Literally.
There’s a tiny bell hop station complete with a luggage cart. Pictures of guinea pigs dressed up in little outfits hang in framed photos on the wall, and another guinea pig squeaks and runs away.
“Never in a million years would I have guessed this,” I say slowly, feeling almost as shocked to discover that Eliza is a huge guinea pig lover as I was to discover necromancers cursed Lucas.
If she ever brings up how I gush over my familiars again…
“I told her I didn’t want a puppy,” Lucas starts. “So she got a guinea pig. That was two hundred years ago.”
“Wow.” I look around the room again, impressed with how clean everything is. There’s hardly any rodent odor at all. We step back, and I close the door. “I didn’t know guinea pigs were kept as pets back then.”
“The Incas domesticated them before I was even turned.”
“The more you know.” I shake my head and keep a steady hold on Lucas as we go into the next room. I’ve only been in here once, when Kristy stayed the night after we fought a demon in an abandoned building. It hasn’t been redecorated and looks exactly the same, which is oddly comforting.
“Lie down,” I tell Lucas. “I’m going to get some more towels and try to clean you up the best I can.”
“My sponge bath ends with a happy ending, right?”
“That only happens with massages.”
“Damn.” He winces as he falls back onto the bed. I take off his shoes and undo the button of his jeans.
“Don’t get excited,” I say with a half-smile. “Take a nap and then we’ll discuss happy endings.”
“Yes, Mother,” he retorts and helps me take his jeans off. I toss them on the floor in the bathroom and come back with several bath towels and a handful of damp washcloths. I tuck the bath towels under Lucas to keep the bed from getting wet and then gently clean the blood from his torso the best I can.