Brave (A Wicked Trilogy 3)

“Yeah, you are, Sweetness.” His smile was weak. “You’re here.”

“It’s not good,” the female said, the one who I guessed was a doctor. “None of this is good.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What do we need to do?” Tink demanded.

“I don’t think you’re understanding me,” she replied. “The lacerations in the back are deep—too deep. There are definitely internal injuries, and that’s what I can account for just from the stab wounds.”

“Okay. Then fix her,” Ren ordered.

The fae was hooking something up to an IV. “I’m not a surgeon. I have no experience with these types of wounds—”

“Then find a surgeon,” Ren snapped, his hand stilling along the crown of my head.

“We don’t have surgeons here,” Faye answered quietly. “We rarely have injuries like these. And when we do, we don’t use a doctor to heal. The fae will feed so they can heal themselves.”

“I’ll go get one.” Tink stepped back from the bed. “Just give me half an hour.”

Wait. What was he doing?

“You can’t just go get a doctor,” Faye argued. “I’m pretty sure that’s called kidnapping.”

“Do I look like I care?” Tink threw back. “Besides, I’ll get a doctor and then you can glamour them.”

“We don’t believe in doing that,” she stated. “We—”

“Are you kidding me?” Ren cut in. “I don’t care what you believe in. If we need to get a surgeon, then we’re going to get a fucking surgeon.”

“There isn’t time,” the female fae said, and the entire room quieted. “We don’t have time for that.”

“What?” breathed Ren, his gaze frantic.

Refusing to even blink, I stared at Ren’s face, letting my one good eye etch the hard line of his jaw and the curve of his cheekbone into my memories.

He was so beautiful, inside and out, and sometimes I didn’t think I deserved him and his—his goodness. Not when I wasted such precious time. This last week we could’ve done so much, filled up a lifetime worth of memories.

“I can give her blood. We have some of that here, but she’s a halfling,” she continued. “I have no idea what that will do to her—if it will help or hurt her.”

“Give her the blood,” Tink decided.

“Giving her blood is only going to give us a little more time, but not enough,” the female said. “Her blood pressure is dropping with every second. Her heart rate is too high. She’s lost too much blood and is still losing blood. She wouldn’t be stable enough for surgery. If she didn’t have fae blood in her, you wouldn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.”

Ren stared across the bed, the muscle along his jaw flexing. “What are you saying?”

I stopped listening at that point, because I think I already knew what she was going to try to explain to Ren. I didn’t hear her words, but I knew I was right. It was in Ren’s wide gaze when it swung to mine. I knew what she had said because of the denial that crept into his face and in the way his hand spasmed against my cool forehead. I didn’t have to hear her, because I heard Tink’s sudden shout of objection.

I was dying.

Not in a couple of days. Not in a few hours. I was dying right now.

“No. No. God, no.” Ren’s voice came back to me as he moved in, his hand splaying across my cheek. He pressed his forehead against mine. His voice was a ragged whisper. “This is not happening.”

I wanted to touch him. To wrap an arm around him, to comfort him, but I was too tired and my arms were too heavy.

“I’m not going to let you die. Hell no.” Ren kissed my brow, and when he pulled back, his lips were smeared with red—with my blood. His jaw tightened as he looked across the bed. “Keep her alive until I get back with a doctor.”

A doctor wasn’t going to help.

Voices erupted around me. There was pleading for Ren to be realistic and there were threats, most of them coming from Ren. Tink had grown quiet.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, I dragged my gaze from Ren’s, because I couldn’t deal with the pain crowding his face. I glanced around the room, snagging on a figure standing far back, against the wall, where Tanner had stood.

Merle.

She was staring at us, her face devoid of emotion, and for some reason I had the hardest time looking away, but then I couldn’t see her anymore. My eyelids were too heavy, but I heard Tink say softly, “There is another way.”

Chapter 7

My lashes fluttered and soft light crept through the darkness. I was still in the room Ren had carried me into, but the overhead lights had been turned down. Everything was softer.

“Hey there, you’re back.” Ren touched my chin, tilting my head just the slightest to the left. I saw him then and my chest split wide open. His eyes were damp, thick lashes wet as he smoothed his thumb under my lip. Was he crying? I don’t think I’d ever seen him cry.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I was getting a little worried. I thought—” His voice cracked. “I thought I’d lost you.”

I thought he had, too. I didn’t remember fading out again. The last thing I recalled was Tink saying something about there being another way and then there was just nothing but inky, consuming darkness. No dreams. No thoughts. But I had the feeling only minutes had passed.

In that short time, the room had all but emptied out. Only Tink and Faye remained with Ren. The two stood at the foot of the bed, and Tink was gripping Faye’s shoulder. She looked like she was seconds from bolting from the room.

My gaze slowly moved back to Ren.

Ren’s faint smile weakened as his thumb trembled against my lip. “I need you to hang in there just a little longer, okay? I need you to do that for me. Can you?”

My mouth moved around the word yes, but I wasn’t sure if the word took flight or not.

He shifted in closer, his bright green gaze capturing mine. “I love you, Ivy. You know that? There’s only been you. There will only be you. I love you so fucking much and that’s why I have to do this.” His voice broke again, thick and hoarse. “I’m sorry, Sweetness. Forgive me.”

What was he sorry for? Confusion swept through my foggy thoughts. Forgive him?

Tink all but shoved Faye forward. The fae, normally graceful and nimble, stumbled. Stopping by my head, she shot a glare over her shoulder. “I don’t agree with this. If you knew what he’d done to her and how it—”

“I know,” barked Ren, lifting his gaze from mine. “I know, but I’d rather her pissed off and hating me than dead. Do it now.”

Confusion gave way to unease. What was happening? I tried to get my tongue to work. I wanted to know what was happening, but then Ren shifted down, kissing my forehead. He lingered, his lips hovering just above mine.

Something . . . something dark and silky stirred in the pit of my stomach.

“Tink,” Faye began. “You don’t want to do this. We don’t know what it will do to—”

“If you don’t do this, I can promise you it will be a very unwise life choice.” Tink had moved closer, speaking in a hard voice I’d never heard him use before. “I mean it, Faye. I like you, but I like Ivy more. You let her die, you’re doing so with the last moments of your life. So, don’t get it twisted.”

“You two may regret this.” Faye then placed a hand on my head. “You’re going to need to restrain her when she’s done,” she said to Tink, and when she spoke again, there was something thick and seductive about her tone. “Look at me, Ivy.”

I couldn’t help but obey.

My head shifted and my nose brushed against Ren’s. Faye’s stare snagged mine. Her lips moved and then I was falling, slipping, and I wasn’t resurfacing. The one word she spoke echoed over and over.

Feed.

In the small part of my brain that was still functioning normally, I knew what had happened. Faye had used a compulsion. It didn’t matter that I knew this. It was like resisting the lure of a shot of morphine. No chance to fight it. There

was a burst of panic that came from the fear of losing control but it fizzled out before it fully formed.