When I worked at Home, I woke up with hangovers on a regular basis. Most of them made me feel like my skull had liquefied. This was worse. The light was too strong, and the colors were too bright. I winced, forcing my eyes to stay open as I looked around. My head was in Tybalt’s lap. Elliot and Alex were standing nearby, and Gordan was off to one side, packing things back into her first aid kit.
“How do you feel?” asked Alex.
“Like I’ve been through a meat grinder. Am I getting that coffee?”
“You lost a lot of blood,” said Gordan. “That’s twice I’ve had to tape you back together. Don’t make me do it again.”
“I’m not planning to.” Especially since I was pretty sure she wanted to take me apart herself.
“Good.” She picked up her kit and turned, starting for the stairs.
“No going off alone,” said Elliot.
She stopped, scowling. “I need to get back to work.”
“Take Alex.”
“No,” I said quickly. “I need to talk to him.”
“Well, I have work to do.” Gordan glared at us all.
“So go do it,” I said, hoping I sounded tired enough that she’d believe I was slipping—and that she really was our killer. I wanted to be sure before I confronted her. I also wanted to be able to stand under my own power. “Call April if anything happens.”
“Your concern is touching,” she said, and flounced up the stairs.
Elliot turned to me once she was gone, frowning. “You let her go off alone.”
“Yeah, I know.” I tilted my head back, looking up at Tybalt. “Help me sit up?”
Without a word, he slid his hands under my back and scooped me into a sitting position. I pulled away, managing to support myself for almost a second before my arm buckled and I fell back against his chest. He put an arm across my shoulders, holding me there.
“Stay,” he said, firmly.
“You got it,” I said, looking around the room. We were still in the basement. A thick bandage had been wrapped around my left wrist, streaks of red staining the white. Tybalt and I were sitting on the cot where we’d placed Terrie’s body. That made sense. It was available real estate now.
“You were bleeding so much we didn’t dare move you,” said Elliot. “If Tybalt hadn’t told us you did it to yourself, we’d have thought you were attacked. I’ve never met anyone who cuts themselves open as often as you do.”
“It’s a talent of hers,” said Tybalt.
“Not a good one,” said Elliot, picking up a mug and offering it to me. “Drink this.”
“Coffee?” I took the mug, peering into it. It wasn’t coffee. Not unless the description had been rewritten to include “green and sticky.”
“No,” said Elliot. It was good to know that I didn’t need to add hallucinations to my list of symptoms. “Just drink it.”
“I don’t drink green things.”
“I made it. Drink it.”
That didn’t strike me as being an incentive. “What is it?”
“One of Yui’s recipes,” he said. It was the first time he didn’t flinch when he said her name. “It’s good for headaches. She used to give it to Colin when he stayed human too long.”
I peered into the cup. If it tasted anything like it smelled, I was going to be very unhappy. Still . . . “Does it work?”
“Colin said it did.”
“Right.” I was an excellent target in my current condition, and I couldn’t afford to turn down anything that might help. Squeezing my eyes shut, I chugged the contents of the cup.
It didn’t taste as bad as it looked. It tasted worse. Stars exploded behind my eyes as the mug slipped out of my hands to shatter on the floor. For a moment, I was halfway convinced that I’d been poisoned; then my headache withdrew, so abruptly that it left me dizzy. The ache in my wrist and hand seemed to worsen, filling the vacuum, but that was the sort of pain I could deal with. I’m used to it.
I opened my eyes. The world snapped obligingly into focus. “What was in that stuff?”
“Pennyroyal, cowslips, and wisteria, mostly,” Elliot said. “Are you all right?”
“No, but I’m feeling better.” Sometimes I hate our inability to thank each other. Tap-dancing around the phrase gets old, especially when I’m tired.
“Good,” said Tybalt, removing his arm.
I leaned back on my good hand, taking a breath. I still felt queasy, but it was nowhere near as bad. Straightening, I turned to Alex. He looked surprisingly