Page 40 of Even Robots Die (Even Ever After #3)

Brice

“ W hat are you doing in my room?” Florentine asks me, and I don’t miss the fact that she sounds more tired than annoyed or pissed off.

I don’t know what is happening to her, but she looks exhausted and that high temperature of hers can’t be a good thing.

She’s red, yes, but not the kind of red I’ve tried to bring to her skin since she arrived here. Not the kind of red I like.

I don’t like seeing her like this.

She winces at something I can’t see and her eyes close, as if she’s trying not to show me how much pain she’s in.

“I heard you cry,” I tell her softly.

“You heard me cry and thought to come and piss me off in addition?” she asks me, and it lacks her usual bite.

I don’t like this.

I realize I also don’t like the fact that she thinks the only thing I do when it comes to her is try to piss her off.

I can only blame myself for that, though. I’ve chased the feeling of satisfaction that accompanies my succeeding in getting under her skin and getting her flushed.

But now I feel like an ass.

I feel.

No, that’s not possible.

“I come in peace,” I tell her as I open my palm and show her the painkiller I brought with me. It’s supposed to be for shifters, so I might have to give her only half of a normal dose, but it was all there was in the castle pharmacy..

“And now he’s nice. That’s not good for my hormones. That’s going to bite me in the ass,” she grumbles under her breath and I barely catch it.

A smile tries to tug at my lips, but I hide it. I don’t think she would take it well if she knew I heard that.

It must mean that her fever is high because she’s usually careful with what she says when she knows someone is in the room with her.

She grabs the pill without another word and I stand to get her a glass of water, but she doesn’t wait for it and swallows the pill down without a second thought.

I probably should have told her that she needed to take half of it before letting her grab it.

I still walk to the sink and fill a glass of water before going back to her side.

“Drink,” I tell her, and for once she doesn’t talk back and complies.

I have a feeling she knows it’s for her own good.

I take the glass back and set it on the ground next to me.

I don’t know how she ended up in this position.

Her pillow is tucked under her head, but that’s the only thing that is where it’s supposed to be.

She’s curled with the blanket wrapped around herself at the bottom of the bed, her head facing the left corner, and the rest of her body pointing to the middle of the bed.

Which means I don’t see the point in putting the glass on the nightstand where it should be.

“I’m cold,” she tells me, and I look at the thin blanket on her bed that should be enough for the season, but it’s completely drenched and sticking to her skin.

Of course she’s cold.

I stand to go get her another blanket, but one of her hands wraps around my wrist with surprising strength.

“Don’t leave me,” Florentine says with a small voice and wet eyes. I don’t have the heart to disentangle myself from her and send a message on my holo instead.

A minute later, Charles comes in with a winter blanket and looks at me with worried eyes.

“Is she okay?” he says so low, I’m sure I’m the only one who can hear.

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I heard her cry from my room.”

The doubtful look he sends me makes me feel like he’s no fool.

He knows I’ve been spending way too much time in Florentine’s room in my bat form.

I might have been able to hide it from the rest of the crew, but Charles is perceptive and was an operative spy for most of his life.

He sees things others would dismiss, but he’s also a few decades older than I am and saw me grow up, so he knows exactly where to look.

He doesn’t call out my bullshit, though.

“She seems to have a fever and I can smell blood in the air, but I’ve seen no wound that would explain her state,” I tell him.

Charles looks at me like I’m dumb.

“You raised a daughter and you’re telling me you don’t know what this is …?”

And now I feel as dumb as Charles thought I was.

“Can you find me some chocolate cake?”

“Will do,” he answers me and there is no more of that ‘are you dumb’ expression on his face.

He drops the blankets in my arms and disappears through the door.

Florentine is still clutching my wrist, but she tucked her head between her arm and against her knees.

It feels wrong to move her when she’s like this, but she’s not going to get any warmer if she stays this way.

“Florentine, I need to move you so I can switch your blankets,” I tell her as I wrap my hand over the one she has around my other wrist.

She looks up at me, and her eyes are shining with unshed tears.

“I need your words, Miss Furious,” I tell her with a cocky smile.

It has the intended effect because she looks at me with murder in her eyes and the tears are all forgotten.

“You’re an ass,” she tells me. “Do what you need.”

“Even if what I need includes removing your shirt?” I say, trying to stay as serious as possible.

“I’m not removing my shirt,” she answers me, and if looks could kill, I would be dead by now.

“Don’t be silly,” I tell her, “you need dry clothes or you won’t get warm.”

“Give me the blanket,” she demands more than says.

I don’t know how this woman manages that. She looks to be on death’s door and she still manages to sound like she’s in control.

I remove my hand from over hers and she moves that hand in a “give me” movement. I drop a corner of the first blanket in her hand and she crawls back to the top of the bed.

I see her move under the blanket and throw her shirt to the ground and then her shorts.

“All good,” she says, and her head is barely out of the blanket.

Except she’s not all good. She’s shivering even with the blanket.

I walk up to the head of the bed and wrap the second blanket around her when there is a knock at the door.

I open it and Charles pushes a plate against my chest with gooey chocolate cake and two spoons.

I look at him with what I hope is annoyance on my face, but he doesn’t let me voice it. He turns his back to me and disappears once again.

I make my way back to Florentine and retrieve the glass I left on the ground in passing.

Once I’m near the head of the bed, I sit next to her and put the glass on the nightstand.

Softly, I tuck the blankets down so I can see her face.

“Florentine, you need to drink and eat,” I tell her.

She eyes the cake and the spoons like they’re the enemy.

I scoop a bit of cake onto one of the spoons and bring it to my mouth. As if she was waiting to see if I would get sick, Florentine untangles an arm from the cocoon of blankets as soon as I swallow the piece of cake.

It’s good. I have no idea how Charles found it so fast. I didn’t expect the thing to glide on my tongue deliciously, but it does.

I know she will like it, even in her state.

“Bring the plate closer,” she tells me.

“Bossy little thing,” I answer.

“I’m far from little,” she bites back before adding super low. “Especially if you keep feeding me like this.”

She doesn’t contest the bossy part, though.

I do as she asks, and she eats the cake so fast it makes me feel like she thought I was going to steal some for myself.

When she’s done, I realize that she’s still shivering, even when her arm is back under the blankets.

She lets me pat her forehead and sure enough, she’s still awfully hot.

“Scoot,” I tell her as I stand and remove my pants.

“What are you doing?” she asks in a panic.

“You’re shivering even if your head is burning. We’ll share body heat.”

“Can’t you raise the temperature of the room? Put the thermostat on a higher temperature?” she asks, and she sounds outraged.

“This isn’t a normal house, Miss Furious, and you can be pissy all you want, but it’s already a blessing this castle has all the amenities necessary, knowing no one ever lived here and what it was used for until now,” I tell her.

And it’s true. Knowing this castle was used as a prison and some kind of experimental lab all at the same time by the bird-shifters, it’s a miracle that there were rooms that could be lived in when we arrived.

We’re also lucky it’s just the beginning of fall because the castle is bound to get very cold when the temperature drops.

Hopefully by then, we will be back in Paris and I won’t want to kill my best friend every time I see him.

“Because you think I’m going to be able to sleep with you next to me?” she grumbles.

I almost want to laugh.

If she knew what I wanted to do to her body, she would know that it’s probably going to be harder for me to slip under her blankets. Pun intended.

But I don’t see any other way. The medicine should kick in any time now, but I won’t let her be cold for another minute.

“Scoot,” I repeat.

“And you say I’m the bossy one?” she asks as she moves a bit to the side and gives me room to slip behind her.

She’s still wrapped in the blankets, though.

“How about you release the blankets a bit? You’re wrapped like a burrito,” I tell her with a chuckle.

“I’m the bossy one, my ass,” she mumbles as she rolls on her other side, releasing the blanket from under her.

I slip under the blanket and tuck her to me so her back is flushed to my front and my arm is against her belly.

“No funny business,” she tells me before I hear her breathing slow and feel her shivering slowly reduce to nothing.

And just like that, Florentine is fast asleep in my arms.