Page 43 of Bewitched by the Fruit Bat King (The Bewitching Hour #3)

The Moonwater Bloodroot

Kane

C onsciousness returned in fragments – the scent of healing herbs, soft light filtering through a canopy of leaves, the distant murmur of voices.

I was still on the cot in Willow's sanctuary, but something had changed.

The all-consuming agony had receded to a dull throb, and the blood hunger, while still present, had retreated from mindless rage to persistent need.

I attempted to sit up, only to discover my limbs were held in place by living restraints – flowering vines that adjusted their grip as I moved, firm but not painful.

"Easy," Willow's voice came from nearby. "I gave you a concentrated dose of what I have. It won't last long, but it should keep you lucid for the trip to the Moonwater Club."

She appeared at the edge of my vision, looking both exhausted and determined. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, her hair pulled back in a messy bun with small flowers blooming throughout the strands – evidence of how her powers continued to evolve beyond her control.

"How long was I out?" My voice was closer to normal, though still rough around the edges.

"About three hours." She checked her watch with a frown. "The remedy I gave you is already starting to fade. We need to move quickly."

The vines released me as she approached, responding to some silent command.

I sat up slowly, taking inventory of my transformed body.

The claws remained, as did the gray pallor of my skin, but the painful spasms had temporarily subsided.

A glance at my reflection in a decorative mirror confirmed my eyes still glowed an unnatural crimson – a stark reminder that this reprieve was temporary.

"You used all your emergency supply on me," I observed, noting the empty vials on her workstation.

"Yes," she admitted without apology. "The others are stable for now. You weren't."

The simple prioritization of my life over convenience for her other patients struck me with unexpected force. After everything I'd done, all the ways I'd tried to exclude her from decisions about our shared fate, she was still willing to put me first when it mattered most.

"Thank you," I said, the words entirely inadequate.

She nodded once, all business as she gathered supplies into a waterproof bag. "Can you make it to the Moonwater Club? The car ride won't be pleasant with your heightened senses, but I don't think we have alternatives."

I stood carefully, testing my stability. "I can manage. My car is... somewhere in Haven's Cross. I don't actually remember where I abandoned it."

"We'll take mine." She slung the bag over her shoulder. "It's not as fancy as yours, but it'll get us there."

The journey through the back exit of her shop was a study in controlled agony.

Every heartbeat we passed – from late-night pedestrians to animals scurrying in alleyways – sent fresh waves of hunger through my system.

Willow's presence beside me was both comfort and torture, the mate bond amplifying both my awareness of her and my craving for her blood specifically.

Her ancient Prius, parked in a small lot behind Floramancy, looked like it had survived at least one minor apocalypse. The passenger door let out a protesting squeal as I opened it.

"I know it's not what you're used to," she said defensively as she slid into the driver's seat.

"It has character," I offered, folding my transformed body into the compact space. The scent of her permeated the vehicle – flowers and sunshine and the distinctive sweetness that was uniquely Willow. In my current state, it was intoxicating to the point of torture.

As we drove through the darkened streets of Haven's Cross, I forced myself to focus on what awaited us at Lake Norman rather than the pulse I could see beating at Willow's throat.

I needed to prepare her for what we'd find, for the particular challenges of harvesting from my mother's underwater garden.

"The bloodroot my mother cultivated is unlike any other variety," I began, voice carefully controlled despite the growing discomfort of the remedy wearing off. "It was an experiment, originally – part of her research into plant varieties that could thrive in unusual conditions."

"Is that why it doesn't need full moon harvesting?" Willow asked, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"Partly. The constant pressure from the lake water, combined with the unique magical properties of Old Haven, created something new. My mother called it 'Moonwater Bloodroot' – a strain that carries the essence of moonlight within it, regardless of the lunar cycle."

Willow's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "That could be exactly what the remedy needs. The grimoire specifies that bloodroot harvested under a full moon contains specific properties that can't be replicated otherwise. If your mother's variety permanently contains those properties..."

"Then it might be even more effective than what you're planning to harvest yourself," I finished, fighting through another wave of pain as the remedy continued to fade. "But there's a complication."

"Of course there is," she muttered.

"The garden has been untended since my last visit. The magical barriers maintain the environmental conditions, but the plants themselves... they may have evolved in unexpected ways. Particularly given the curse's activation."

Willow glanced at me briefly. "You think the bloodroot might have changed properties because of our bond?"

"It's connected to my bloodline," I explained. "The entire garden responds to Drake blood – it's how we maintain control over which areas remain submerged and which don't. With the curse activating my dormant blood-drinking nature, the plants may have... adapted."

"Fantastic," she sighed. "So we're not just dealing with underwater harvesting, but potentially aggressive magical plants."

"My mother's garden was never aggressive," I clarified. "Responsive, protective even, but not aggressive. However, given my current state..." I looked down at my transformed hands, the claws that had replaced my fingernails. "I don't know how it will react to what I'm becoming."

The lights of Lake Norman appeared ahead, the vast expanse of water gleaming beneath the night sky.

The Moonwater Club stood dark and abandoned on its peninsula, the elegant building that had once hosted our dinner date now shuttered and silent.

I'd ordered it closed after our confrontation, too dangerous to maintain operations with transformed vampires potentially seeking water access to Old Haven.

Willow parked in the empty lot, killing the engine. For a moment, we sat in silence, both considering what awaited us beneath the placid surface of the lake.

"Kane," she said finally, turning to face me fully. "How bad is it getting? The hunger?"

The direct question deserved a direct answer, however difficult.

"It's... consuming. Every heartbeat is a siren call.

Every pulse point a target." I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet her eyes despite knowing what she'd see in mine.

"Your blood specifically... the mate bond makes it nearly irresistible.

Like a starving man being offered a feast he can smell but mustn't touch. "

To her credit, she didn't flinch from the truth. "I’m not scared Kane. We’ve got this. We will fix this."

"Don't hesitate," I told her seriously. "If I lose control completely, if I try to..." The words stuck in my throat, the possibility too horrific to voice.

"I won't," she promised, her tone leaving no doubt. "But it won't come to that. We're getting that bloodroot and making the complete remedy so we can break this curse once and for all. Period. I need you to have a fully clear head to do what we need to do to make this happen."

Her certainty was both admirable and concerning – she had no idea the full extent of what a transformed vampire was capable of in bloodlust. But the temporary remedy was fading rapidly, and we had no time for further debate.

The Moonwater Club stood silent as we approached, its elegant exterior pearlescent in the moonlight.

I placed my palm against the biometric scanner hidden beneath a decorative panel, relieved when it still recognized my transformed hand.

The doors slid open silently, revealing the darkened interior.

"Power's out," I noted as we entered. "Emergency protocols must have activated when the club was closed."

"Not a problem." Willow gestured to a potted plant near the entrance that promptly began to glow with soft bioluminescence. "We have alternatives."

The main dining area was eerily silent, chairs stacked on tables, the bar covered with protective sheets. Our footsteps echoed on the marble floors as I led the way toward the back of the building, where access to the underwater sections was controlled.

"The garden is in a separate section from what I showed you before," I explained, voice growing rougher as another wave of transformation pain rippled through me. "My mother's private sanctuary within Old Haven. It’s why you didn’t see it when I brought you there."

We reached the hidden elevator that would take us to the submersion chamber. My hands trembled as I entered the access code, claws making the simple task frustratingly difficult. The panel flashed green after the third attempt, and the elevator doors slid open.

The descent was silent, tension building between us as we approached the underwater sanctuary.

Willow stood calm beside me, but I could hear her heart rate accelerating slightly – not fear, exactly, but healthy caution.

Our mate bond pulsed, stronger in the enclosed space, my awareness of her blood beneath her skin growing more acute with each passing second.

"Almost there," I managed, the words emerging as more growl than speech as the remedy continued to fade. "Garden... chamber ahead."