Sucker Punch (First Fangs Club #3) - Kristen Painter Page 0,59
the silver, along with some bruises, but those will heal.”
“Good. Glad to hear—wait.” She looked at him again as his words processed. “As of yesterday? How long has it been?”
“Two days.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “How are you feeling?”
That was easy to answer. “Miserable.” She sniffed. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, but her emotions were paper-thin.
“Physically? Or emotionally?”
She swallowed at the knot forming in her throat. “Emotionally, but also not all that hot physically.”
“Some of that emotion is the toxin. The fae seem to love that kind of psychological warfare. But I’m sure some of it is also because you’re grieving.”
She pressed her head back into the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “The queen is dead.” Her voice wavered. “Because of me.”
“That’s not true. Yes, it’s a terrible loss for the vampire nation, but no one blames you. You didn’t force Artemis to show up. Only a fool goes into battle acting like they think they’re bulletproof. And at her age, she knew the risks better than most.” He paused for a moment. “It might even be said that she planned this.”
“What?” Donna pushed to a sitting position.
“Forget I said anything. Please, lie down. You need to rest.
“Dr. Fox, explain.”
He shrugged. “She’s now a martyr. With her death, Artemis made it open season on the fae. Before this, a vampire killing a fae would have sparked a war.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Now, there is already a bonfire blazing. Another death or two or ten won’t change how hot it burns.”
Donna shook her head. “You really think she’d do that?”
“With Artemis, anything is possible.” He smiled. “Please don’t feel responsible.”
She let out a long sigh. “It’s hard not to. Even if she allowed herself to be a martyr, my actions created the opportunity.”
“I understand.”
“Was anyone else killed?”
“I believe a wolf died. A good number of injuries as well.”
The news didn’t help her mood. “Any word on Ishalan? The fae who helped us? I think he was pretty badly injured.” If not dead. She didn’t know how resilient fae were, so she couldn’t guess how he’d fared after his treatment at Dredward’s hands.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know. Would you like to see Charlie? Or Pierce? Or your sister? Or anyone else? Everyone’s here.”
“My sister is still here? After two days?” Donna nodded. “Send her in. Please.”
“I will. And now that you’re awake, you should feed.”
“I can do that with the toxin inside me?”
“The toxin’s been mostly flushed out of your system. You’re just recovering from the effects at this point. Feeding will speed that up.”
“Okay. But just from a glass. I’m not up for more than that right now.”
“Understandable.” He glanced at the monitor one more time before he left.
A few moments later, the door opened again, and Cammie stuck her head in. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Cammie entered, wearing jeans and a simple gray sweatshirt, her hair back in a low ponytail. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll live. Apparently. I’m surprised you stayed. I thought you’d go back to the convent.”
Her smile was strained as she sat on the edge of the bed. She smoothed a wrinkle in the coverlet. “I can’t go back.”
“Why not?”
She glanced at her hands. “The order forbade me to return.” She looked up again, smiling tightly. “I pretty much knew that would happen.”
“Wait, back up. You knew that would happen? Why?”
“Because I came to help you.”
“Oh, Cammie. Can you protest the decision? That’s ridiculous. There’s no way you deserve—”
“It’s okay. I knew what I was doing when I made my choice.”
Donna’s heart clenched at the sacrifice her sister had made on her behalf. “You’re staying here with me, then.”
Cammie took a breath and smiled. “That’s a very kind offer, but I don’t know how it would go over for the vampire governor of New Jersey to have a former Venari hunter living with her.”
“Screw how it goes over. You’re my sister.”
“Donna—”
“Camille, I’m not arguing with you. You’re staying here. There’s plenty of room.”
“I’ll stay for a little bit. But just until I figure things out and get my own place. I have some money.”
“How much could you possibly have?”
“Not much, but—”
“And what will you do to support yourself?”
“I have skills.”
“I know you do. But I don’t see a lot of ads in the paper for vampire hunters.”
Cammie laughed. “You’re just looking in the wrong papers.”
Donna could tell Cammie meant that, but nothing really surprised her anymore. “So you’d freelance?”