22. Wherein Clive Discovers the Joys of Duct Tape

Stheno was on the phone. As the sun was down, I assumed she was speaking with Clive. My wards knew to always let Clive in, so I didn't even flinch when he raced in a few minutes later. And just like that, the pain was gone.

"The scarring around her neck is going to be severe. Can't you do something? I thought bloodsucker spit healed." Stheno was kneeling by my head as Clive crouched beside me.

"Hold her shoulders down for me."

Closing my eyes, I concentrated on breathing slowly and not on his fingers scraping at the charred skin of my throat. Stheno pulled something over my head and shoved it in my pocket before they sat me up. Clive moved around me, peeling away what was burned and blistered. Unfortunately, his ability to mask pain only went so far. I held in my whimpers as best I could. Only later did I realize I had Stheno's hand in mine. She didn't even bitch when I repeatedly tried to crush it.

When I felt Clive's tongue, I knew we were through the worst of it. I also knew it must have been bad, as Stheno wasn't making any dirty jokes.

I felt a push on my ward.

"Russell's here. Can you let him in?" Clive asked.

I opened my eyes to a very concerned Clive. Russell hurried down the stairs a moment later. I wished I'd kept my eyes closed, as I'd have avoided the split-second look of horror on his face.

"Sire, I've brought the car. Dr. Underfoot and Miss Wong have both agreed to meet us at the nocturne. Is Miss Quinn able to be moved?"

"She's fine," Stheno said, unceremoniously lifting me to my feet.

My knees buckled but she held on until I steadied myself, standing under my own power.

"Thank you for calling me," Clive said to Stheno.

She shrugged her acceptance.

"Would you like to come with us? I can guarantee your safety in the nocturne." He reached for my hand and I took it.

"I don't need your help to protect myself, bloodsucker. And no, I don't want to sit around and watch her heal. I've got shit to do." She looked around the bar. "I'll clean this up before I go. Your wards will let me out, right? I don't feel like getting stuck in here all night."

Yes.

"She says yes."

"Good enough. Somebody grab the old books. She needs to study those."

Russell went to the table and collected the grimoires.

When I started to move toward the stairs, she grabbed my arm, spinning me toward her. "And the next time somebody is trying to kill you, don't you fucking wave me off!"

I couldn't let her kill Dave.

"You may not have noticed, but Dave is a kind of father figure for Sam." He gave me a sad smile when he saw my eyes filling with tears. "Perhaps a foul-mouthed stepfather would be a better description. She just lost her great-aunt. She couldn't let you take him, too." He lifted our joined hands to his mouth and kissed my fingers.

I think I killed him myself.

Dave is very hard to kill.

We slowly made our way up the stairs. Holding my neck completely still was proving to be quite difficult. When we hit the cold night air, I thought my head was going to snap off. The cold pierced my exposed muscles and veins, settling into my spine.

I must have made a sound because both Clive and Russell were trying to block the wind and move me as quickly as possible without jostling me. Getting into the car without bending my neck was near impossible. Soon, though, we were on our way. Clive sat in the back with me, his hands wrapped tightly around one of mine.

What happened?

Stheno and I were going through the grimoires that were in my last book order. And drinking heavily, which might be helping to dull the pain. Dave arrived, started shouting about how I wasn't supposed to be there.

Perhaps that's why he was there.

What do you mean?

He may have known that Abigail was infecting him, so he tried to keep to places he knew you weren't. In that way, he couldn't be forced to hurt you. Then there you were, exactly where you weren't supposed to be.

I know she didn't have complete control of him, He could have killed me in an instant. Instead, he was shaking with the effort to not hurt me.

He did well enough.

No. I clawed him, down his face and arms. Then I used a spell I'd just read, not knowing what it really was, and called dark spirits up to rip him apart and drag him from this plane. I gave him over to be tortured.

I couldn't stop the tears from falling, couldn't care about the fiery sting as they rolled over my exposed throat.

I will say again, Dave is very hard to kill.

But he can feel pain.

Dr. Underfoot and Lilah were waiting in Clive's study when we returned. Lilah gasped when she saw me, but Dr. Underfoot, who had no doubt seen far worse in his very long life, opened his bag and set to work. Lilah held her hands a few inches from my neck, her lips moving rapidly. The itching began almost immediately. I clamped down hard on Clive's hand and a new wave of pain relief washed over me.

When Lilah, looking exhausted, finally dropped her hands, my eyes cut to Clive.

Better.

"As always, Miss Wong, it is a pleasure working with you," Dr. Underfoot said. "You are able to do what I am not, and because of that, there is now something I can do to help. Until the subcutaneous tissue was regrown, there wasn't much I could do. Now, however, as dermis growth has begun, I have a balm that will help." He pulled a chewing tobacco tin from his bag.

At my raised eyebrows, he chuckled. "They're just a handy size, so I collect them." He popped off the top and showed us a cloudy ointment. "Wait another few hours. We want the restructuring of the epidermis to begin before using this. Even a soft breeze is going to hurt, so wait until you can handle it and then lightly brush over the new growth. It contains an anesthetic you will need once the sun rises and Clive is no longer controlling your pain. It also contains herbs for healing."

Thank you.

"Sam and I thank you both for coming so quickly." Clive inclined his head toward each. "We also hope not to see you again anytime soon," he added on a smile.

Except at our wedding.

"Except, of course, at our wedding. You would both be honored guests."

Lilah perked up at the news. Dr. Underfoot merely nodded in acceptance.

Once they'd left, Clive took my hand and led me to the elevator. "We need to figure out how to keep your neck from touching anything while still allowing you to rest."

Duct tape.

Excuse me?

We're going to have to jury rig something, which means duct tape.

When the elevator doors opened, we stepped out.

I have no idea if we even have duct tape in the house.

By the time we got to the bedroom door, Russell was waiting for us with a roll of duct tape in his hand.

Speedy.

He is.

"Thank you. Let's see what we can do about finding a way for Sam to rest." He took the tape from Russell as we passed. I stiffly made my way to the couch, as I knew the bed was right out.

Slide the couch all the way to the left, against that wall. Then duct tape the pillow to the wall at head height.

Clive must have asked Russell for a pillow because one was flying through the air a moment later. "Hold that side," he said to Russell. "If I tape the sides up and let the middle hang, it'll act as a kind of hammock for your head, helping to keep you from slumping one way or the other in your sleep."

As carefully as possible, they had me recline against the arm of the couch with my legs stretched out along the sofa so they could position the pillow properly. Once they were done and I was as comfortable as it was possible for me to be, Russell held out his hand for the tape, intending to leave.

"This is extraordinarily useful. Can you ask Norma to buy more? I want a roll in each of my cars and another in my office."

Russell barely hid his grin as he gave a short bow and said, "Yes, Sire."

Once he'd gone, Clive helped me up. "Let's get you changed into more comfortable clothes."

"I'm guessing showering is out." Which was too bad, as I felt grimy. Near immolation could take a toll on a body.

"Perhaps not." He turned on the shower and then quickly undressed us both. Grabbing a face towel, he led me into the spray, careful not to jostle me and to keep the water pointed low on my body. When he wet a towel, wrung it out, and gently cleaned my face, I could have wept.

He twisted a bath towel into a roll and then wrapped it around my shoulders, to help block stray drops of water from hitting my neck. He then soaped and rinsed us both, quickly and efficiently.

Better?

Yes, I thought on a sigh.

Good. He turned off the water and then dried us off before leading me to the closet. He dressed me in my softest pajamas and then led me back to the couch, pulling the comforter off the bed and wrapping it around me.

It's too early for the medicine. Are you hungry?

I've been thinking about something. I was going to try earlier, but Stheno, and grimoires, and a lot of cocktails happened. If Leticia has decided to work with her mother against us, maybe she's nearby.

You've tried before and never found her. Why would now be different?

I started to shrug and then caught myself. She's figured out a way to hide, to cloak her signature. I used to think I could only sense the dead, but sometimes I feel other immortals. Now that we know Leticia is definitely involved, I want to do a deep dive, searching for the wall she's hiding behind or the person who's cloaking her.

What can I do?

Just keep the pain relief coming.

Done.

He sat on the couch, and then a hand snaked under the comforter and wrapped around my foot. Being tethered to him helped me make the leap.

Don't let go.

Never.

Closing my eyes, I tapped into the deep reservoir of magic that lived in me. Mentally unspooling a magical thread from my chest, I imagined wrapping it around my neck and then thought the simple healing spell Lydia had taught me. I wasn't a healer, like Lilah, but I figured it was worth a try.

Casting out in my mind, I didn't try to filter for vampires or ghosts or anything in particular. I mentally took a walk through San Francisco, searching for anything unusual. I found what I thought was probably Stheno and her sisters. There were three unrelieved black dots with a hazy film of purple over the top. They were in their beach house.

When I got to the North Beath neighborhood, I found Meg. At least I think I did. The signature felt familiar, and, again, purple over black. I couldn't see the wicches at all. They were living and mortal. My abilities didn't extend that far, so I had no idea where Abigail was. Besides, she had a demon keeping her hidden.

Later, I found black blips with a faint overlay of green; I guessed they were the fae. Perhaps immortality was the link to what I could sense. The faintly green beings were in the parks and the ocean, as well as some residences in town. They felt like sunshine and growing things.

I was traversing Golden Gate Park, surrounded by black and green blips, when I felt my body being moved. Clive was still with me, so I ignored it. When I felt his cool fingers brushing ointment over my throat, I knew it must be close to dawn. Still, though, I searched.

Concerned I was overstepping boundaries, I told myself to forget the immortals' dens I'd found on my search. They deserved their privacy.

Exhausted, close to giving up, I felt a pull in the North Bay. Crossing over the water, I bypassed what I believed to be the fae and followed a subtle draw up the coast. I passed over the same spot multiple times. There was nothing there, and yet I kept coming back to it. Why?

And then I knew. At the exact moment I felt the whole nocturne blink out, I felt a similar winking out in that spot in the North Bay. I couldn't feel her, couldn't sense her, but I knew when her consciousness shut down at the rising of the sun, when that almost imperceptible white noise stopped.

I couldn't pinpoint anything, sitting here in Clive's nocturne. We needed to go for a drive up the coast. Something was hidden up there, something, I was willing to bet, that was undead, with big sharp teethies.