Hydromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 4)

“Cesar!” She knew he’d hear, even if he slept downstairs. He left his door open, and his hearing was as good as a vampire’s.

Her teeth started chattering, and her knees hit the tiles just as Cesar rushed through the door, wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts and carrying his cellphone in his hand.

“Fuck. Shit. Damn.” He skidded to a halt next to her and crouched down. “Fuck.”

“I think I need a doctor,” she said, battling to get the words past her lips.

“Okay. Okay, Maya. It’s going to be okay. I’m calling Tim.”

For a big, muscled dhampir Cesar sure was squeamish when it came to sickness. She would’ve laughed if she had the energy. Another wave of pain made her pull into a ball.

He fumbled with his phone and swore when his hand shook too much to press the right buttons. Finally, he put the phone to his ear.

“Yeah, it’s me. Yes, something’s wrong. It’s Maya. There’s something seriously fucking wrong with her.” Cesar paced the floor. His bare feet passed backward and forward in front of her vision. “I don’t fucking know! I’m not a fucking doctor, Tim. I’m a bodyguard.” He stopped and crouched down next to her again.

“No, she can’t speak to you right now. She’s in too much fucking pain!” Cesar stopped as he listened to Tim’s reply. “I am fucking calm! Hold on. I’m putting the phone on speaker so I can hear you, and I’m turning the camera on.”

Cesar pressed a few commands and held the phone to Maya’s neck. “Do you have a visual, Tim?”

Tim’s strained voice came over the line. “How long has she been like that?”

“A couple of hours. Since she went to bed. No. Wait. She got sick on Monday. Maybe Tuesday. Fuck! I don’t know.” He pulled his hand through his hair. “I thought she had a cold. Your mark, it looks infected. Tell me what to do.”

“What are her symptoms?”

“She’s in fucking pain, crawling on the floor. What other symptoms do you need?”

“Cesar, hold it together,” Tim said in a stern tone. “Does she have a fever?”

Cesar touched her forehead. “She’s burning up. Her teeth are chattering.”

“Run a cold bath and get her inside. Try to break the fever. Show me the marks again.”

Cesar moved the phone back to her neck.

“Fuck.” A dull thud sounded, as if Tim had slammed his hand down on something. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m leaving now.”

“It’s a fucking four-hour drive.”

“What else do you want me to do? There’s no air strip, and I don’t have access to a helicopter.”

“She needs a doctor.”

“No doctor will be able to help her, and you know it. You have healing power. You have to give her some of your blood.”

“Okay. Yes. I can try.”

“Don’t bite her, do you hear me?”

“Do you think I’m crazy?” Cesar exclaimed. “Do you think I want to endanger her more?”

On the other side of the line, footsteps fell hard and fast. “Do it. Now! Keep me on the line. Hold on. Lee! Get the car. Maya’s sick. And wake Frida.”

Cesar placed the phone on the floor next to him. He stared into her face, wiping his brow. “Maya, I’m going to give you a little blood, all right?”

She tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a gurgle. She battled to push the words from her mouth. “You’re a big baby, Cesar. For a soldier…” She couldn’t say more.

“Yeah, I’ve killed people, Maya. Humans have died by my hand, but never a woman, and never Tim’s fucking woman.”

“Stop talking, Cesar,” Tim shouted. “We’re in the car. I’m with Frida and Lee.”

“Maya,” Cesar said gently, “I think your mark is infected. I’m going to try and heal it with some of my blood. I don’t have a vampire’s healing power, but I’ve got some.”

“Impossible,” a woman’s voice chirped from Tim’s phone. “Your saliva would’ve sealed and healed the wound.”

Frida. It was the last voice Maya needed to hear.

“He bit her deep, Frida,” Cesar said, his voice tight. “None of us has ever bitten that deep.”

“Women get marked all the time. This must be something else,” Frida said.

“Tim,” Cesar spoke over his shoulder while he flung the bathroom cabinet open, “we need a doctor.”

“The only doctor who can help her is in London,” Tim said.

“Charles? We’ll never get him here in time.” His voice shook as he said, “There’s a red line running from the mark—”

“Exactly. Now, do as I say,” Tim continued. “Give her blood. Get her in a cold bath. Take a photo of the infection and send it to Charles. I’ll let him know to be on standby.”

Cesar knelt down next to her again with a razor blade. “Ready, Maya?”

“Show me what you’re doing,” Tim said.

Cesar leaned the phone upright against the bathtub. “Have you got it?”