Chapter Seventeen

"Nannette." I tried again, dragging my gaze away from Madame Laveaux to look back at her. "What was that?"

Nannette let go of me as soon as we'd entered the front of the shop. "She's the Maman, girl. The Loa speak through her." She clucked her tongue at me, passing the girl behind the counter to start gathering what she needed to make my concoction.

"But..." I shook my head, brows furrowing. "I heard my father's voice." I whispered. "My dad's dead, Nannette."

She paused with her back to me and shared a glance with the girl working the counter. They both turned towards me at the same time. "There are things I am not allowed to say." Nannette murmured. "But if you heard your father, he must be very close to this realm and he must be very worried. The dead watch for us."

My throat tightened to a pinprick. The dead watch for us. What would my father think of me now? I dropped my gaze. I didn't want to know anymore. I would take the pieces of his voice, of hearing him call me his sunshine, and tuck them into a back corner of my heart. Swallowing hard, I slipped my arms around myself and let Nannette work.

I'm sure she told me what went into the concoction, but I missed it. I was floating on a wave. Drifting. Anxious to get back to Fortuna. Wait for me.

"Madmwazèl Braden?"

I blinked at Nannette. "Hmm?" I sounded, opening my arms, and uncurling my fist to take the bottle from her. My palm was slick with blood, and I hadn't even felt my nails digging in. "Oh." I started to drop my hand when she pressed the cool bottle into it and wrapped my fingers tight around it.

"He must drink all of it." Nannette said, holding my gaze. "There are no half measures here, understand?"

"Yes." I breathed out, swallowing against the tightness in my throat again. "How much do I owe you?" I asked, reaching for my wallet with my free hand.

Nannette waved me off and made a dismissive gesture towards the door at the same time. "This one is on the house. The next one won't be, dako?"

"Okay." I mumbled, blinking tears from my eyes. "Thank you." I said, hugging the bottle against my chest as I started towards the door. I paused with my free hand on the handle to look back at them. "Nannette?" I glanced around but no one was paying attention to me. "Have you sold vervain to anyone else?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line and shared a look with the girl manning the counter. "I would have to look." She said, shooing me out of her store again. "Go. Come back tomorrow."

I ducked out of the store. The drizzle had become a downpour and lightning streaked across the sky as I lowered my head and ran for my car. I dove into the front seat and slammed the door behind me, settling the bottle in my lap as I dug my keys out of my pocket and got the engine started. Turning the heaters on full blast, I pulled away from the curb and started the drive back towards Fortuna.

The floating feeling had fizzed into a high-key adrenaline that buzzed along my gumline. I barely remembered the drive. The gates rose in front of me before I even had time to worry if they would open for me or not. I clipped one, wincing at the scraping noise it made along Beatrice's side. Mud splattered my windows and windshield as I sped along the path, tires bumping along in a way that rattled her poor frame. I cut the wheel a little too hard, slid, and came to a stop a little too close to the veranda.

Cutting the engine, I climbed out of the car, holding the bottle tight against my chest as I made a run for the front door. I bounced off it as I slammed inside and shut it behind me. Dripping rainwater onto Charlemagne's expensive floors, I moved towards the house phone, shedding my wet bomber jacket as I went. I dialed Miranda's number from memory. "Miranda."

"What's wrong?"

My throat tightened. "I need a favor." I mumbled, ducking her question. How could I tell her everything was wrong? And that if I didn't fix it, my vampire would die.

"What is it?"

"It's not exactly legal."

There was a pause. "What is it?"

I told her and hung up. Keeping the bottle close to me, I made my way into the kitchen. I couldn't trust any of Charlemagne's blood supply, for all I knew, it was all poisoned. I finally put the bottle down on the counter and moved towards the fridge to dig out his supply of donor blood. I dumped the bags in the sink and moved around the counter to the wine storage. I grabbed as many bottles as I could and carried them to the sink too.

I dumped the bottles first, cringing away from the sweet aroma that wafted into the kitchen. Was it vervain, or aged grapes? My adrenaline was waning towards hysteria. I grabbed a knife out of the butcher's block and stabbed at the blood bags, turning my face away as they popped and splattered. Cold blood hit my arms and the side of my neck. Gross.

"What are you doing?"

Startled, I whipped around to face Marcus. My heart thudded against my ribs, and my fingers clenched around the knife. "Stay back." I choked out. "Just stay away from me, Marcus." Was it him? Was it him? Would he hurt Charlemagne?

He took a step forward and I held the knife straight out, with more intent. "Stay away from me." I bit out, voice pitching and cracking.

"Abigail." My eyes shifted past him to Charlemagne. He leaned heavily against the entrance way. Nick hovered beside him. "What's wrong, mon coeur?"

The knife wavered in my hand. "You've been poisoned." I breathed out, shaking my head when he opened his mouth to argue with you with me. "No, no, I'm serious, Charley. It was in the wine bottle, I-I took it to Madame Laveaux's. Vervain, ash, a-and belladonna. Someone poisoned you." I swallowed hard. "We can fix this. We can fix it."

"How?" Nick breathed out, straightening to his full height as he entered the kitchen, moving past Marcus to stop in front of me. He held his hand out for the knife, and I didn't hesitate to give it to him. I could trust Nick. Right? "How do we help him?"

Sniffing, I shifted my gaze back to Charlemagne. "We have to drain him of blood, flush out the poison, and then, um, refill him." I mumbled. "No half-measures."

"The girl has gone insane." Marcus grunted, folding his arms across his chest as he glanced back at Charley. "You can't seriously—"

"What's the harm?" Nick cut him off as he dragged his gaze from my face to Charley's. "If you've been poisoned, we save your life. If you haven't, you'll be uncomfortable for a minute, but you're plannin' on dyin' anyways, boss." He swallowed hard. "Abby believes it. I believe her, don't you?"

Charlemagne studied my face before he dropped his head in a nod. Thank god. "Nick, have Madeline finish in here, we're going to need fresh blood—"

"Miranda's bringing some from the clinic." I breathed out, tilting my shoulders when they turned to look at me. "I wanted to be prepared."

"That'll get us started, but he'll need something alive if we're going to drain him completely."

"Oh, then that's all you, Nick." I swallowed the squicky feeling in my chest, and started across the kitchen to Charlemagne, snagging the concoction on my way. "We should get you upstairs."

Charlemagne didn't move for a full heartbeat, his bruised eyes lingered on my face. "Are you sure about this?" He asked, lifting a hand to press his fingers to my cheek. His skin was cold to the touch. "Hope is a dangerous thing, my love, mon coeur."

His face blurred as tears filled my eyes. "I know." I mumbled. "But I need this. I need to know I did everything I could to save you, or-or I won't be able to survive it." I choked out. "Please."

He bent his head to kiss my mouth, the movement jerky and desperate. "D'accord. Let's do it your way." Charlemagne slipped his arm around my shoulders and let me help him towards the stairs.

I helped him past his bed and into the bathroom before I faltered. "How do we do this?"

"You're going to help me undress and then get me into the tub." Charlemagne said gently, brushing his fingers through my hair. "One thing at a time."

"One thing at a time." I sniffed, placing my bottle down on the counter before I gave him my full attention. My fingers trembled as I reached for the buttons on his shirt. "This isn't how I imagined it." I mumbled.

"What?" He asked softly, lifting his hands to steady mine.

"Undressing you."

"Non, I had imagined different circumstances as well." Charlemagne sighed, bending down to rest his forehead against mine. "If it works…"

"When it works." I murmured, bringing my head back to find his mouth. I kissed him hard. "When it works and you feel better, we can make love." I sighed against his mouth.

He slid his fingers into my hair, anchoring me to him to deepen our kiss. "I'm so hungry, Abigail." He whispered.

My heart tightened as I nuzzled into him. "I know, baby." I whispered. "You'll be able to feed soon." I promised, his lips brushing across my skin as I lowered my head again to concentrate.

I unbuttoned his shirt and got his pants undone, hesitating with my fingers on his waistband. Did Charlemagne wear boxers or briefs? I blame the hysteria for that one. I pushed his pants down past his hips and brought my head up so quickly I nearly clocked him in the nose. Nothing. The answer to boxers or briefs was neither. "Oh."

"Ca va?"

I nodded, cheeks warming before I got myself together. This was his life. Our life. I finished undressing him and helped him into the tub. "Now what?"

"Let me help." I turned at Nick's voice, heart thudding. He held up his hands in a placating manner. "I sent Beau to get food. I'm needed here."

I huffed out a relieved breath and nodded. "Yes, please." I said, kneeling next to the tub. "Help me."

Nick reached into his pocket for a switchblade and flicked it open. The blade gleamed like silver under the bathroom light. "This is the nasty part, Abby. Silver will slow down the healing, but he'll still heal. I'll have to keep cutting him. You sure you want to be here for this?"

I swallowed hard, tension rolling through my body. "I have to be here." I whispered, glancing at Charlemagne when he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. "I have to be here with you."

He dropped his chin in a short nod. "Come around here, ma cher. Will you run your fingers through my hair? It will comfort me."

Softening, I shifted until I was behind him, and could do as he asked. I ran my fingers through his hair. I kissed his temple and shut my eyes, inhaling the scent of his skin. "It'll be okay." I said softly, glancing up at Nick, nodding for him to start.

Nick reached for Charlemagne's wrist and extended his arm—Whimpering, I shut my eyes and slid my arms around Charley's shoulders, hugging him tight as the bathroom spun. He hissed through his teeth and then the heavy copper tang of blood filled up my head. I turned my face into Charlemagne's neck and breathed in his skin again. "It's okay." I mumbled.

But it wasn't. When I forced my eyes open, to look, my stomach shriveled to the size of a pea. The room spun again. You should never have to watch the person you care about most in the world bleed to death. Nick had cut along the veins and arteries in Charlemagne's wrists and thighs. Dark blood bubbled up and filled the tub beneath him. "Oh my god." I whispered.

"Don't…don't look." Charlemagne breathed out, his words slurring on the tip of his tongue. "Close your eyes, stay here with me."

I shut my eyes and buried my face against his neck again. His body shuddered in my grip. His breath came out in short, horrible pants. Terror filled me. This was a mistake. I'm killing him! I'm killing—

Shutting my eyes tighter, I held on with everything I had. I had to trust this. Trust myself. Trust Nannette. Nick. Nick wouldn't let him die. I wouldn't let him die. Keeping my eyes shut, I lifted a hand to slip my fingers through his hair. I murmured over and over again that it would be okay. I was right there with him. You're stuck with me, DiBaptiste.

Time stretched long and unbearably slow. Charlemagne stilled in my arms. When I opened my eyes, he was almost translucent from blood loss and his wounds were no longer healing. "Is it done?" I sniffed, glancing up at Nick.

Nick was splattered in blood up to his forearms. "I don't think we're gonna get any more out of him, darlin'." He said softly.

Nodding, I lifted a hand and pointed towards the bottle on the counter. "He has to drink it. Every drop." I mumbled.

Nick reached for it and pulled the stopper out. He took a whiff and recoiled, baring his fangs. "Are you sure about this?" He grunted, reaching for the neck of his shirt to bring it up over his nose.

No. "I have to be." I said, holding my hand out for it. "The Maman was pretty clear about wanting Nannette to help Charlemagne, I don't think she'd go against her wishes."

His brows crinkled on his forehead. "You saw her? Did she say anything to you?"

"Nick."

He exhaled into his shirt before pressing the bottle into my hand. "If Madame Laveaux doesn't want him to die, he won't die." He said with a small, definitive nod to himself.

Something acrid touched my nose as I shifted until Charlemagne's head was resting against my chest. I touched the lip of the bottle to his mouth. "You have to drink all of it." I said softly, unsure if he could even hear me as I tipped it back into his mouth.

He sputtered, liquid dribbling out of the sides of his mouth, before his throat worked to swallow the concoction. I started to pull back when he lifted a hand to hold the bottle in place. When it was empty, I took it from his mouth and placed it on the ground next to me. "Charlemagne?"

He didn't answer me. His hand had gone limp, glancing off his chest before landing in the blood at the bottom of the tub. Stillness settled over him. Cold dread tightened around my heart like a fist. "Charley?" I tried again, slipping my fingers through his hair. "Baby?"

"Abby?" Nick murmured, and I didn't have to look at him to know he felt just as scared as I did. "What's happening?" He took a step closer, hovering on the edge of my vision.

"I don't know." I whispered, tears prickling in my eyes. "I don't—Did we do it wrong?" My voice cracked around the edges. Had I killed him?

Charlemagne jerked suddenly. He twisted out of my grip as the muscles along his core rippled and contracted. He gripped the edge of the tub, an inky darkness had spread across his eyes, into the veins of his face. He coughed, shuddering hard as he retched. I jerked back, landing on my bottom to stare at him. His name was in my mouth, on the tip of my tongue, and then he retched again.

The thing that came out of his mouth landed on the tile floor with a slick plop. Black and oily and in the shape of a flower. Heaving a breath, he fell back against the tub panting. I stared at the thing on the floor a little longer before meeting Nick's gaze. Poison. He'd thrown up poison. I was so sure of it.

"I'll be goddamned." Nick shook his head slowly. "You were right."

I was right. I dropped my gaze back to the strange, black flower before turning my attention to Charlemagne. "Charley?" I asked softly, shifting back onto my knees to touch the back of my fingers to his cheek. His skin was still ice cold. His breath had slowed until I could barely hear it. "Nick?"

"He needs to feed."

I blinked at him. Miranda hadn't arrived with the blood I'd asked for, and Beau hadn't come back yet. I didn't overthink it. "Give me your knife."

"Abby..."

"Nick." I held my hand out for his switchblade. "Please."

Relenting, he wiped the blade off on his jeans before he handed it to me. "At least let me get him started—" He winced, dragging his gaze away as I slit open my arm.

It was a relatively small cut, but it stung, and welled up with blood. When the scent of it drew out a deep inhale from Charlemagne, I knew I'd made the right decision. I hoped. Dropping the switchblade, I brought my arm around to Charley's mouth. "Come on, baby." I said softly, pressing the cut against his lips. "Please."

His mouth brushed over my skin. A second later, the tip of his tongue pressed against the wound. My lips parted as the small, sharp sting of his teeth. His hands rose a moment later to grasp my arm, anchoring me to him as he drank deeply. It was strange, but it didn't hurt outside of the initial sting. There was a deep pulling sensation and goosebumps spread along my arm, up the back of my neck, and across my scalp.

I dropped my cheek against the side of Charlemagne's head and shut my eyes. It actually felt kind of nice. His moan vibrated against my skin, sending a warm shiver through me, hitting me square in the pit of my stomach. Have as much as you want. Take it all. My lids fluttered. Stars were spinning in my head. My thoughts were turning into wispy clouds.

Pain cut through the night sky. My brows furrowed. "Hurts." I mumbled, the word slurring off my tongue. I'd started to float. Spin out on top of a star. I could no longer bear my own weight. I tilted back, feeling a painful tug at the joint. I couldn't open my eyes, but I was suddenly aware of Nick's voice calling my name and Charley's. His hand on my arm and then a ripping pain that slammed all the way into my skull.

Darkness swallowed me whole a second later.