Page 53 of Glimmer and Burn (Unity #1)

“If Emmy read it, then she remembers.” Captain Blair’s attention had returned to Miranda, who was having trouble following his erratic trains of thought. “Which means we know how to make the potion.” Back to Rachel, “Possible with the limited resources in this house?”

“Aside from the blood, I could manage,” Rachel responded.

Miranda whirled, trying to follow the track of thoughts until she finally caught up to the Captain’s intentions. “You mean Divine blood. The blood of a guardian.”

“Yeah, but there’s three guardians in this room, blood won’t be the issue.” Gideon gestured to the three of them, as if volunteering the blood donation of everyone in the room was his right.

“I’ll do it,” Miranda said, instantly. With absolute certainty.

“Alright, then. Emmy, get one of the rookies to help you get whatever you need,” Captain Blair said, this time to Rachel, “And let’s get an officer in the other room starting on a report. Get, uh, who’s the least squeamish?”

“Morgan.”

“Yeah, make sure he’s primary. Get Holden to assist you. And if you see the doctor on your way, make sure he knows to get up here and maybe we can get in a more official prognosis before we poison the guy.”

Rachel disappeared and a heavy silence settled over the room. The only noise was Devin’s slight wheeze as he breathed, and listening to him struggle was tantamount to peeling off her own fingernails.

“I apologize, Captain. And thank you,” Miranda offered, staring at the bed as she counted each second. She had been tempted to help Rachel gather supplies, just for something to do, but leaving Devin even for a second was impossible. She needed to watch him breathe or she’d go insane.

“You can call me Gideon. We’re not so formal outside the Ring.” Gideon slipped his hands into his pockets. “What was your name again?”

“Miranda,” she answered as the helpless task of waiting settled over the room. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Gideon, watching Devin for any sign of a change in his condition. The dread of sudden stillness hovered like a ghost over their shoulders. Each ragged breath a blessing.

“You don’t look like a Miranda,” he murmured, then he started pacing. He kept reaching out to touch things. Shifting a book. Toeing at an errant boot on the floor. He picked up the knife from the food tray and wiped it clean of butter before twirling it around his fingers. “So. Graves is dead.”

“Yes.”

Gideon stared at the bed, knife twirling in his hand. “Self-defense. Perfectly reasonable.”

“Yes.”

“He attacked first.”

“Yes.”

“He broke into the house.”

“Yes.”

“Makes sense to me. The reports should reflect the same conclusions.”

He finally glanced at her, a charming grin lighting his features and Miranda could see why other women liked him.

“You butchered him. I’m impressed and a little jealous that it wasn’t me who got to do it, but I guess that idea sailed the moment I joined the Watchmen.

Can’t go hacking up enemies beyond recognition, no matter how much they deserved it. ”

“It wasn’t intentional. I just…I lost a bit of control.”

He shrugged again, twirling the butter knife around and around with deft motions of his fingers. “It happens. I closed the door on my dying mother’s pleas for help as she succumbed to disease.”

Miranda’s jaw fell open.

“If you knew her, you’d get it. I got my sister out of there before we caught it too and never looked back.”

“I’m…sorry?”

“Don’t be. It was the best day of my life.”

He delivered the information so…casually.

Miranda almost found it chilling, except as she watched him, knife twirling and twirling and twirling, faster and faster at the mention of his mother, it was obvious the detachment was more for his own protection than cruelty.

She couldn’t imagine hating a mother so much that you were happy they would die.

But then, if nothing else, the past couple of weeks had shown her that the world held a lot more misfortune than she understood.

Rachel returned from her tasks after what felt like an eternity, but by the clock only a few minutes.

“I got Pen and Rose questioning the staff. Morgan is on his way to the scene now, but there’s no door to shut, so we’ll have to keep our voices down. Holden should be right behind me with the last of what I need.”

Miranda checked on Devin again, Rachel had wrapped the wound tighter and cleaner, using proper supplies from a kit she thought to bring. His pulse was steady. Slow, but not gone.

“You realize this could be a painful way to go,” Gideon said to the room, but mostly to Miranda.

Rachel moved the food tray and started to set up various bottles and containers.

Miranda ignored him, her eyes fixed on Devin.

“I only skimmed the files on it, but there were some pretty horrific descriptions in there. And there was no indication or pattern to explain what caused the subject to kick the bucket. At the current stage in testing, it was you either lived or it boiled you from the inside,” Gideon continued.

“He’ll be fine. He’ll live through it,” Miranda said.

“Why so sure?”

“Because he has to,” she said, tone final, like she could will it so with enough confidence.

“Ready,” Rachel said as she drew a knife from a hidden sheath on her thigh and held out a hand to Miranda. “Are you?”

A blue liquid simmered in a tea pot, ingredients scattered around the table. She had brought a small cook top, a crystal used to super heat whatever touched it. Some fae element Miranda didn’t know the name of. Nothing about the scene looked medicinal.

Swallowing her trepidation, Miranda sat down and Rachel wrapped a torn strip of cloth tight around her arm.

She examined Miranda’s forearm for a moment, then carefully used the tip of her knife to create a tiny gash.

Then she twisted the limb so the blood could collect in a measuring cup from the kitchen.

Miranda didn’t look at her arm, but kept her eye on Devin.

Only taking a breath when she saw the gentle rise of his chest. Each one a few seconds slower than the last.

Once she finished, Rachel bandaged the wound and Miranda cradled her arm to her chest. It didn’t hurt, but the idea felt precious somehow.

She was literally giving him the blood from her veins.

This was the sort of thing immortals did, not her.

Yet, she’d have done it again. She’d have given all of it, if it saved him.

Rachel worked quickly, pouring the contents into a glass jar and heating it separately from the tea pot.

Miranda only distantly watched as Rachel worked with the blood until a few silver drops bubbled to the surface of the coagulating mess in the jar.

Carefully extracting the silvery beads, Rachel added them to the rest of the potion.

The liquid inside shifted from blue to deep purple, shimmery threads of grey swirling near the surface.

Miranda cycled through all the warnings Gideon had given her.

Trembling as Rachel pressed a clean cup of the potion into her hand.

She wasn’t trying to make this worse, but she didn’t see another way.

Not when it had taken so long for anyone to get here in the first place.

The doctor still hadn’t arrived and finding one might take more time than they had.

Miranda eased Devin’s head into her lap. She stroked his hair back from his forehead where sweat had pasted it to his skin. Easing his lips apart, she hesitated.

“The whole thing?”

Gideon raised his shoulders. “If you’re going to do it, might as well do it. You don’t want to risk it only half working.”

“But I could ease him into it, see how he responds?”

“I don’t have the answers, Wilde, this is a highly untested bottle of fucking Divine blood in there.

We’re talking gods and magic. He’s also part human, so there’s always a chance that could make it worse or better.

We can flip a coin about it. But the fact remains, you wanted to make this choice, then you gotta make it. ”

Miranda closed her eyes.

She had no idea what the right call was.

She started to pour the potion into Devin’s mouth, and when he sputtered, she pulled it back. He’d only swallowed half the contents. Was that enough? Would it be enough?

The room was pin-drop silent as everyone watched Devin for a sign that something was happening. And then he sucked in a loud, full breath, eyes flying open and screamed.

Miranda prayed to the Divine she hadn’t just made a deadly mistake.

Devin’s entire body was boiling. An excruciating blaze snaked through his veins and set his insides on fire. If he wasn’t dead, he might have preferred it.

It lasted an eternity.

Then suddenly ended.

Devin took a slow breath in and out. His lungs were no longer on fire.

When he opened his eyes, he felt the moon like a physical presence, enveloping him with energy and calm. Soothing. Odd that he felt it so…much. His connection to the moon had always been distant. Maybe he had been too inebriated to notice before.

He sat up, blinking as the room spun and then snapped into crystal clear focus.

Despite the heavy shadows and darkness, he could see everything in perfect definition.

He would have noticed a pin dropping in the farthest corner.

And he recognized this room. It was the bedchamber furthest from the master suite, meant for illustrious visitors like dukes and kings, back when those were a thing.

It was the room he used when he spent the night here, if he didn’t fall asleep half drunk in the study.

The room where he’d brought Miranda and…

He had died.

The memories of last night were scattered, vague. The one thing he knew with certainty was that he had thought he’d breathed his last.