“Can we not experiment on you? And can we avoid death, excessive bleeding, or dismemberment until the new year?”
“Yes . . .?”
Eli smiled and added, “And what if we just put a little of Alice’s blood in a martini? Beatrice suggested that it might aid your health.”
I scowled at him. “Fine.”
“Alice?” Eli called. “Could you bring Ms. Crowe’s breakfast?”
A moment later, she came into the bedroom with a beautiful glass of pink vodka. There was a lemon twist and cherry. I guessed the cherry was to hide the real source of the pink. Alice was as clever as she was bouncy.
In a chipper tone, she announced, “I made it myself!”
I held out a hand. I knew that the pink tint to my martini was a result of additives she took from her vein.
Truth be told, I’d considered trying blood, but it felt wrong. I had moral qualms about drinking from anyone, and I was fairly sure I shouldn’t have to do so. I’d existed for most of my twenty-nine years with a mix of vodka, green smoothies, and assorted herbs. Never sick. Rarely tired. Since the venom injections, I was always tired, and no amount of liquor made me feel satisfied.
I took a tentative sip of my blood-tini. “This tastes different.”
Alice looked at Eli. “I made it just the way he said to.”
“Hmmm.” I drank half of it. “It’s good. Spicy, though.”
She folded her arms and looked at Eli before blurting, “That’s the blood. He made me. I wasn’t going to lie, but—”
“Okay.” I drank the rest.
Eli rolled his eyes at me, and Alice stared at me in surprise. It was sweet that her loyalty to me made her unable to lie.
Honestly, it didn’t have much taste. Vodka. Touch of spice. My blood martini was surprisingly unexciting, despite the anxiety that I’d felt even considering it. The reality was far less exciting than my fears, and I felt like my stress was washing away—or maybe that was my hunger fading.
I wanted to be normal, whatever that was. I wouldn’t ever be human, so my normal was a little different. I didn’t mind the witch part, mostly didn’t even mind necromancy. I minded my paternal DNA. A lot. I was terrified of being a draugr. I grew up as the equivalent of a rose garden to every bee in range—but instead of bees, I attracted the dead. They were drawn to me, and I responded as well as anyone would when dead things popped up everywhere.
I killed them.
What did it mean if I was like them? If my genetic soup was more dead than witch? Necromancy worked by pressing life into the dead, and apparently, it worked on draugr, too. I shoved life into them, and suddenly, they functioned as if they were a century old. Coherent. No longer slavering toddlers. What would happen if I was changing? Would I be unable to kill them? Would I be unable to heal? To summon the natural dead? Maybe it wasn’t that I wanted normal. Maybe I wanted to control who I was, what I was. Define myself.
“How do you feel?” Eli took the glass, unfolding my fingers from the stem, and I realized I’d licked up the last drops of my blood martini.
“Embarrassed.” I paused. “Better though. Energized.”
Alice tossed herself at me. “You do need me! I knew it. Like it’s our destiny!”
“I . . . umm . . .”
She straightened up. “It has to be fresh, but I’ll be right here whenever you need me.”
It had to be fresh? That was news, and not the good sort. Questions popped around like manic bunnies in my brain. How fresh? How often? How much? Was it all the same? Should we test the theory?
But Alice was already gone, and I doubted she had the answers I needed. I glanced at Eli.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said, undoubtedly seeing my worries and questions. Obviously, the answers weren’t ones he knew or he’d tell me.
I swallowed my panic and nodded. One crisis at a time.
When Alice returned, she had a cocktail shaker in her hand. “I made more. Just in case.”
Eli held out my glass, and Alice filled it. “I’ll mix up another batch before I go.”
She gave me a little finger wave like she was in a parade, and then she was gone again.
“Hey, Alice?” I called after her. “I like your singing.”
Her squeal, presumably a happy noise, was all the answer I got. Okay, maybe she was growing on me.