I glanced back at Ray.

Normally, I would never have thought to give a possibly adulterated substance to an already weakened ally, but I did not think that this was poisoned. I could detect no corruption, and in any case, what choice was there? Even were there humans to be found in this place, I did not know how to find them.

And Ray did not have much time.

Exsanguinated vampires could be brought back, but if his limbs were not reattached before he bled out, they could shrivel and die. Leaving him as a stump of a creature for the rest of whatever life remained to him. And while I could spare enough blood to sustain him, at least for a while, I could not give him enough to heal.

We had to risk it.

I held the bag up to his slack mouth, and dribbled a little inside. There was no reaction. He was fading quickly, and would soon go catatonic.

“Ray.” The blue eyes opened, but did not focus. They were not fixed, not yet, but it wouldn’t be long.

“Ray!” I gripped his chin, and saw him frown. But he didn’t curse at me, which I had learned from Dory was not a good sign.

I forced more of the blood down his throat, massaging it to make him swallow. It did not make any difference that I could detect, other than for a faint tinge of color in what had been the dead white mask of his face. So I gave him some more, emptying the bag and starting on another, and kept going until he had drained that one as well.

But still, he just lay there.

I knew that he’d absorbed it; otherwise, it would have been trickling out of his wounds. But it did not appear to be enough. I fed him a third bag, and when he still gave no sign of returning to life, I began to panic.

“Ray!” I slapped him across the face, not knowing what else to do.

“What?”

I blinked. It had been faint and crabby, but nonetheless discernable. “Are you all right?”

“Do I fucking look all right?”

I sat back on my heels, a smile stretching the skin of my face. “You are not dead.”

“Not for lack of trying. The goddamned fey.” His eyes finally managed to focus on something—his arm beside me. “You don’t have that on yet? What the heck have you been doing?”

“I am remiss in my duties,” I said, and saw him narrow his eyes.

“Was that sarcasm? Cause in case you didn’t notice, I’m in pieces here! Can I get some help, preferably before the fey find us and finish the job?”

“Yes,” I said, biting my lip. “I will help.”

“Damned right.” He lay there grumpily while I worked to reattach the arm.

It was easier than I expected. Vampire bodies are largely self-healing, if there is enough blood

to use as fuel. Ray had just ingested at least three pints, which was a full meal for his kind, and his body wanted to use it. I had barely put the limb in place when the bones were reknitting, when jagged flesh was flowing back together and smoothing out, when veins were squirming out of the wound like little worms, reaching for—

“Hey! Do you mind?”

I looked up. “What?”

“I could do without the commentary, okay? Little worms . . .” he shuddered.

I sat back on my heels in surprise. “You could hear my thoughts?”

“Why so shocked? You’re my master, right? And where’s my other arm?”

I regarded him for a moment, and then fetched the other arm.

“Great. It’s got nasty fey blood on it.” He scowled.

Tags: Karen Chance Dorina Basarab Vampires
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