Ruthless Fae - Ingrid Seymour Page 0,6

as the smiles on their faces disappeared.

“No. No,” I repeated. Not Bael, too.

“They took him,” Regina said. “He was the only reason we were able to escape.”

What would those monsters do to him, to that kind Khyrunian who had worked himself into my heart with his gentleness?

Despairing, I ran out of the room. There was only one person I wanted to see. I staggered down the hall, opening several doors until I found the right one.

Dean McIntosh stood inside a narrow cabin, tending to Vaughn. He lay on a tall bed, white sheets pulled high onto his naked chest. His features were relaxed as he appeared to sleep. A plastic tube stretched from the crook of his elbow to a bag of clear liquid hanging from a hook on the wall above his head.

When Dean McIntosh took a step away from the bed, a soft glimmer of light pulled away from Vaughn, a bit of magic I hadn’t noticed before.

“You’re back.” The dean scrutinized my face. “And… you didn’t succeed.”

I did not answer and stepped into the room, closing the door behind me, eyes roving over Vaughn’s prone figure. I hadn’t seen him since Alonzo and Vinya rescued us.

“How is he?” I asked.

“The same.”

The bullets that had struck him as we escaped the dome had been laced with poison, preventing him to heal. The dean had said that whatever toxin ran through his veins was eating away at his body and his consciousness. Only their magical remedies were keeping the poison at bay.

I stepped up to the bed and took Vaughn’s hand in mine. Its coldness startled me. “Why isn’t your magic working?”

“I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s science, not magic, and I’m having a hard time figuring out how to fix it. If it was a spell, it would be much easier.”

I stared at his face, expecting his eyelids to slide open at any moment, but they didn’t even flutter.

“Should he go to a… hospital?” I knew humans had buildings full of medical equipment that could diagnose a problem. If science had done this, why were they still trying to heal him with magic?

The dean shook her head. “This is beyond what a hospital can handle. I’ve sent some of his blood samples to a few scientists who deal with this sort of thing. In the meantime, we’re using magic to hold back the poison, to buy him time. Also, my hope is that, once we take control of the island, we will find something to cure him. That’s why I think keeping him here gives him the best chance of survival.”

“I see.” I nodded my understanding, grateful for the dean’s answers to my unspoken questions. “Then we have to go back as soon as possible, especially now after what we uncovered.”

“More bad news?” The lines in her forehead deepened.

I nodded, meeting her gaze, my expression grim.

“That bad, huh?”

“I’m afraid so.”

The dean retreated toward the door. “We will meet in half an hour to discuss what to do next. We’ll explain what our earlier incursion into the dome was about, and you can tell us all you know. Once we have a thorough understanding, we will devise a plan of attack.” The dean’s words were decisive and filled me with a mixture of determination and relief. She had the kind of mindset we needed to make the Habermanns pay.

“Spend some time with your friend.” The dean nodded toward Vaughn, sympathy flooding her clear blue eyes. She left, quietly closing the door.

As soon as I stood alone with Vaughn, a knot formed in my throat. He looked so vulnerable, so helpless, which filled me with rage because he wasn’t any of those things.

I squeezed his hand. “You’re strong. You can pull through this, you hear me? You have to fight the poison. I know you won’t let the Habermanns win after what they’ve done to us. You’ll wake up soon.”

I leaned forward and kissed his lips. As I pulled away, the door opened, and Becca strolled in.

“I knew it!” she said. “You two are in love.”

I blinked away tears and swatted them away. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m exploring. It’s an interesting place.”

Her eyes carefully examined Vaughn. I tried to understand how she could remain so callous throughout this entire ordeal. She still wore the same impractical clothes since she’d arrived: a short leather skirt, now torn to tatters, and a top so dirty I couldn’t tell its original color anymore. I still remembered the clumpy shoes she’d