Richer Than God - Amelia Wilde Page 0,43

Too fragile for the things I did to her. For the things I’m going to do.

“Was it the light?” I murmur to her on the way to the first landing. My mind casts around for an explanation. “It’s not very bright in the attic.”

Problem-solving during this killer relief and murderous fear is impossible. Above us, soft thuds tell me that Reya is following. She catches up at a hidden entrance to my rooms and comes in behind me before the door can shut and lock. Reya’s a silent shadow all the way to my bedroom, where I lay Brigit out on the bed and sit down next to her.

If she’s dying, I’m dying.

Her breathing is shallow, but it’s happening. Her eyes move back and forth behind her eyelids. And her arms and legs—they’re not tensed, not wracked with pain. Relaxed. She’s relaxed.

But this is still wrong.

I check her pulse again. A weak response. This is not how her heart usually beats. If she knew I was this close, it would be hammering. “What happened?”

Reya steps to the side of the bed, her shadow falling across Brigit’s pillow. “Her roommate said she wasn’t hungry at breakfast,” she relays, her tone as careful as I’ve ever heard it.

“So she didn’t eat?”

“A few bites of toast, and then afterward, she had tea.”

Tea. “What do you mean, afterward?”

The pause tells me everything. I pick up one of Brigit’s hands and rub the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist. “Tell me what the fuck you mean by tea.”

“One of the other girls made her a cup of tea.”

“Who?”

I know who it is. That doesn’t make me want confirmation any less. It will save time if Reya opens her mouth now. A significant period of time.

Reya weighs her response with care, and the air in the room seems heavier.

“I swear to fuck, Reya, if you don’t tell me, I’ll punish them all until I find her.”

“Savannah.”

I lean over Brigit then, my heart climbing the walls of my body. Her lips are slightly parted. I can’t ignore how pink and welcoming they are and kiss her. It’s meant to be perfunctory—a research mission—but it becomes a silent question. Please wake up. Please, please. I would never say it out loud. I would die before I said it out loud, but it’s a bright knife through my chest.

The kiss ends so abruptly that Reya gasps. I swipe a sleeve over my mouth. I want the taste off me. Tendrils of lost feeling try to embed themselves against my lips. Reya jumps out of the way when I spit on the carpet. She’s horrified.

I’m fucking horrified.

Because I would know that taste anywhere, beneath any other flavor.

“What is it?” Reya’s on the verge of panic. “What is it, Zeus?”

“Poison. Do you know who you need to call?” Carina Jain is a physician who works at a hospital ten minutes away and keeps a cell phone on her twenty-four hours a day. I’m the only one with the number. We have a deal, much like all the whores at Olympus.

“Yes.”

“Get her here.”

I’d make the call myself, but I’ll be damned if I leave Brigit’s side right now. Reya takes out her own phone and dials the number. She puts the cell to her ear. “Is there anything I should—aside from the fact that it’s poison, should I—”

“Tell her that the poison came from my sister.”

Reya’s shoulders sag a little, but she only nods.

I keep my fingers on Brigit’s pulse. It’s unsettling as fuck in here, like being in church.

Fifteen minutes later, Carina arrives, her hair slung over her shoulder in a thick braid. She examines Brigit without comment, and then we sit her up. Her head lolls against my shoulder, and another pang of fear shivers its way through me. I hate it. It’s like a switch has been flipped. For so long, I was a shell. Now I’m a beating heart. It’s fucking terrible. I push all of it away in favor of getting the antidote down Brigit’s throat.

The change is immediate. Color comes back to her cheeks and she stretches, wriggling her toes, but she doesn’t open her eyes. Carina holds back the covers so I can put her in the bed, and then she puts a hand on my elbow.

“That’s all,” I tell her.

“Zeus.” I meet her dark eyes and find something like concern there. “This isn’t Demeter’s first attempt.”

At first, I think she’s asking. Of course it’s not my sister’s first attempt at poisoning a