Page 26
Story: Accidentally Vacationed with an Incubus (Briar Coven #2)
He reached out and pressed a hand to his wife’s hip.
There was a faint rustling of plastic, and beneath the worn fabric of her nightdress, I caught the barest outline of an incontinence pad, bunched awkwardly on her hips.
Ms. Cadmus’s fingers brushed against it, her lips parting slightly in confusion.
Then, her eyes locked onto Jen once more.
“I chased him away, Diane. Last night, out in the forest...”
A cold weight settled in my chest.
She was talking about me.
Or... was she?
I had heard footsteps. If it wasn’t Ms. Cadmus who had dropped off the files, then maybe she had seen whoever had.
“Um, Ms. Cadmus?” I asked cautiously.
She blinked at me, as if only now realizing I was in the room.
“You didn’t happen to stop by our— Jen’s house last night, did you?”
Her thin brows furrowed in confusion.
I exchanged a quick glance with Jen before pressing on, “Did you see anyone else in the forest?”
Ms. Cadmus’s features twisted as she struggled to recall the memory. A flicker of distress crossed her face, as if grasping at something just beyond her reach. “I chased away that boy,” she finally said. “The orc.”
Fucking. Rowan.
“That wasn’t last night, dear,” Mr. Cadmus interjected, his voice gentle but firm. “That was almost a decade ago. You had to chase him away a few times that summer, remember?” Then, turning to me, his gaze hardened, the warmth in his tone vanishing. “Why are you asking her that?”
Jen squared her shoulders before I could answer. “Someone dropped off my parents’ police file last night, Mr. Cadmus,” she said, her voice steady, but the weight of the words hung thick in the air.
Mr. Cadmus remained still, his expression unreadable. “Why would someone do that?”
“I don’t know,” Jen muttered, flicking me a sharp look that screamed why did you bring it up? “To hurt me, I guess.”
His face softened, sorrow and something else—something deeper—clouding his weary eyes. “Oh, my dear. If you ever find out who did it, you let me know. I may be ailing, but I can still put up a fight for those I love.”
Before Jen could respond, Ms. Cadmus stirred, her vacant gaze shifting toward some unseen point in the distance. “I need my medicine, Veyron,” she murmured.
“Of course, dear,” Mr. Cadmus said without hesitation, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a long glass vial, its top sealed with a layer of saran wrap.
I watched in growing unease as he opened his mouth. A single large fang slid down from his palate. He positioned its tip over the plastic covering and punctured it effortlessly.
Translucent golden liquid seeped from his fang, thick and pulsing, dripping steadily into the vial. The sheer volume of it was staggering. Basilisk venom—undiluted, potent enough to kill dozens —and yet, he collected it with practiced ease, unbothered.
My stomach twisted.
When he was done, his fang smoothly retracted back into the roof of his mouth, disappearing as if it had never been there. With careful hands, Mr. Cadmus peeled away the plastic seal, then— to my absolute horror —handed the vial directly to Ms. Cadmus.
“Stop!” I lunged forward, panic snapping through me. “That much will kill her—”
But I was too late. Before I could even close the distance, Ms. Cadmus tipped the entire contents into her mouth.
I braced myself for the inevitable—her body seizing, her breath choking off, her frail form collapsing to the floor.
But it never came.
Instead, her expression slackened and the tension in her features eased. Her arm still trembled as she held the empty vial out to her husband, though the violent shakes had dulled to something slower, more controlled.
“I need more,” she murmured.
Mr. Cadmus took her hands in his own, his grip firm but tender, his voice thick with quiet grief. “I need a little time before I can make more, dear,” he said gently.
She hesitated, her unfocused gaze drifting once more, as though searching for something beyond her reach.
Ms. Cadmus gave a slow nod, but as her gaze drifted to Jen, something in her expression shifted—an edge of accusation creeping into her otherwise distant stare.
“You need to find that boy and talk some sense into him, Diane,” she said, her voice sharper than before.
“Tell him that if I catch him on my territory again...” She trailed off, shaking her head as though the thought had slipped through her fingers like sand.
Her voice softened, almost wistful. “And, Diane... thank you for coming to visit me in here. It really means a lot to me.”
“How about you go rest, my love?” Mr. Cadmus said.
Ms. Cadmus’s features went slack. She turned and, with slow, unsteady steps, made her way out of the kitchen.
No one spoke. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, only broken by the soft creak of a bedroom door closing somewhere down the hall.
Mr. Cadmus let out a weary sigh. “I’m so sorry, Jen. Your mother was such a dear friend to Sylvia... she often forgets that she’s no longer with us.” His gaze flickered over her, his voice tinged with something that sounded almost like regret. “And you look so very much like your mother.”
“That’s okay, Mr. Cadmus,” Jen murmured, swiping a stray tear from her cheek. Her voice was steady, but her eyes shone with the weight of too many emotions.
Mr. Cadmus tucked the vial back into his pocket, his movements slow, almost mechanical.
Carefully, I said, “That was a large dose of venom for her to take in one sitting.”
He gave me a weary nod. “When the dementia first started, just a drop was enough to settle her when she became confused, to keep her calm and coax her back to the house when she’d wandered and got lost. But now.
..” His voice faltered. He sniffed, the whites of his eyes red and raw.
“I can’t produce what she needs quickly enough,” he continued, his voice cracking, “but I so badly wanted to keep her at home—to keep her with me. And now she’s suffering because of it.
She’s completely dependent on my venom, and I can’t make enough for her.
” His breath shuddered. “I can’t afford to buy more in the quantity she needs from another basilisk.
She’s immune to her own, and mine is the only thing keeping her lucid.
I haven’t been able to keep up with the house in years, and she thinks I’ve imprisoned her.
” His fingers clenched into fists at his sides. “And... and...”
His knees buckled.
Jen lunged forward, catching him just in time before he collapsed under the weight of his own exhaustion.
“I’ve messed it all up, Jennifer,” he whispered. “And now my mate—my Sylvia —will spend what little time she has left suffering because of me.”
***
“Let’s forget about the date,” I said as we walked down the lane, putting distance between ourselves and the Cadmuses’ house. “We’ll just head back to the cabin.”
“No,” Jen said firmly, her fingers tightening around my arm. “You’ve put so much effort into it, and, really, I’m fine.”
I studied her carefully. “Are you sure?” I asked. I barely knew the Cadmuses, yet their situation weighed heavily on me. The thought of what they were going through was unbearable.
Jen lifted her gaze toward me, though her eyes never quite met mine—her inability to see in the dark keeping her focus just off-center. The whites of her eyes were still faintly red, her lips pressed tight in an effort to keep from frowning.
“There’s nothing we can do,” she said softly. “Not unless you’ve got a secret stash of cash somewhere to buy the amount of venom she needs.”
I thought about the wad of cash Jasper had given me. It was the most money I’d ever held at once, yet I doubted it was enough to cover even half a dose of the venom Ms. Cadmus needed.
“Unfortunately not,” I admitted, kicking some stray debris out of Jen’s path. Then a lightbulb went off in my head. “But I do have an idea of how we can help.”
Jen’s eyes widened with eager curiosity. “What?”
“Well... if you don’t mind giving up a day of writing—and a date night—we could spend tomorrow cleaning their house.
” I glanced at her, gauging her reaction.
“It’s not the medicine she needs, but if we can at least make their home more livable, maybe she can spend her final days in comfort instead of. .. that.”
Jen came to an abrupt stop, turning fully toward me. She lifted her free hand, searching blindly in the darkness. I leaned in, guiding her touch until her fingertips brushed my cheek, then curled gently around my jaw.
She smiled up at me, her warmth unmistakable even in the cool night air. “I think that’s a perfect idea,” she whispered.
Table of Contents
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- Page 25
- Page 26 (Reading here)
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