Fall of Night The Morganville Vampires - By Rachel Caine Page 0,81

side and taking his limp, pallid hand in hers.

‘He feels cold,’ she told Jesse. ‘Please, if you’re going to do something—’

‘I’m thinking,’ Jesse snapped. ‘Just quiet, all of you. I’ve only seen this twice before.’

‘What happened?’ Shane asked. ‘The other two times?’

She didn’t answer, which meant, Claire thought with a cold shiver, that the vampires who’d had those stakes in their hearts likely hadn’t survived.

Jesse finally said, ‘Right. There’s no safe way to disarm it. Oliver, I need you.’

He didn’t move until she turned her head, frowning at him, and then moved to Michael’s side. ‘Yes?’

‘You’re faster and stronger than I am,’ Jesse said. She didn’t say it as a compliment, just a simple statement of fact. ‘I need you to pull that stake out, straight and as fast as you can. I will put my hand over the wound in case the silver triggers; I may be able to stop it from entering his bloodstream.’

‘At the cost of your hand,’ he pointed out.

‘No other choice,’ Jesse said. ‘I’m old enough. I can survive. Daylighters haven’t killed me yet.’

Claire held her breath as Oliver nodded, reached down, and took hold of the stake. He locked his gaze with Jesse’s, and she counted down. Three, two, one.

On one, Oliver moved in a blur, faster than the human eye could catch, and Jesse’s hand slapped in place, covering the still-open wound as the wooden stake pulled free. Or at least, that was what Claire presumed happened, because she didn’t actually see it, only Jesse’s hand on Michael’s chest, and the stake moving at bullet speed to hit and shatter on the far brick wall.

It splattered liquid silver all over the wall.

Jesse didn’t move, though she made a sound – a small one, in the back of her throat. And then Claire realised why.

Her hand was covered in silver. Dripping with it. And she couldn’t move until Michael’s wound healed, or he’d be poisoned, and at his young age, likely die quickly.

Her hand was burning. Sizzling. Claire clapped her hand over her mouth to hold in the nausea as she saw skin erode and tendons working beneath, and still Jesse sat very still, unmoving, pale as a marble statue.

‘I think it’s closed,’ Jesse finally whispered, and just … collapsed. Oliver moved, but – surprisingly, Claire thought – Myrnin was already there, grabbing her as she fell backward and easing her to the colourful area rug beneath.

Eve threw herself forward and frantically checked Michael’s pale chest for any sign of damage. ‘He’s okay,’ she said. ‘Michael? Michael!’

He opened his blue eyes, blinked, and said, ‘Eve?’ His voice was shockingly faint, but he was alive.

Myrnin fumbled in the pockets of his oversized coat – there were a lot of pockets, some flapping loose – and brought out a small stoppered vial of powder. He supported Jesse’s head and shoulders on his knees as he pulled the cork with his teeth and emptied the powder over her burning hand.

She cried out and arched up into the air, and he held on to her as she writhed and fought. ‘Easy, dear lady, easy, it will stop, the pain will stop, it will halt the silver and heal your wound, though the scars may take some time – easy, Lady Grey, be easy …’

Lady Grey? He knew Jesse – well, of course, he would, wouldn’t he? Because she’d been sent by Amelie from Morganville in the first place. Still. Claire blinked, because she’d never seen Myrnin act quite so … gentle. Or so formal. And Jesse let out a long, trembling breath and smiled up at him. Whatever he’d given her had worked. The damage was still pretty serious, but from the smile, and the way its wattage increased second by second, the pain was subsiding. Myrnin put his hand on her cheek in a small, comforting caress – something Claire couldn’t remember him doing before. Not quite that way.

‘Well,’ Jesse said, with a lilt in her voice that hadn’t been there before. ‘It’s a rare sweet day that brings you out of your cave, little spider.’

‘And a rarer one that sees you brought low, Lady Grey. A brave act. Very brave.’

‘Foolish, if the boy doesn’t make it,’ she said. ‘Oh, bother it, leave my hand alone. The silver’s still burning, but it’ll pass. I’m too old for it to do much more damage.’

‘You don’t look a day over a thousand,’ Myrnin said. My God, Claire thought. Was he actually flirting? Well, if he was, she couldn’t really