Page 30

“I can’t have a fever.” Cassian laughs like it’s ridiculous, though he looks a touch freaked out.

“Okay…” I say. “But maybe we should track down a thermometer and check.”

“Go up to your room,” Noah says, making me think my concern is justified. “Piper and I will stop by the retail shop in the lobby and see if they have one.”

“I haven’t had a fever in over two hundred years,” Cassian says. “I can’t have a fever—because I can’t get sick. ”

Silence blankets our group.

“Just go,” Noah finally says. “We’ll join you soon.”

“Come on.” Sophia takes Cassian’s arm. “We’ll go together.”

As soon as they’re gone, I turn to Noah. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is there any random illness that affects vampires?”

“No.” Noah heads toward the shop.

“Maybe he just felt hot,” I say, beginning to doubt myself. “Dr. Martin said it will take time for my body to adjust. Maybe I’m running a little cooler than usual?”

“Maybe.”

We make it to the shop with only a few minutes to spare. The attendant looks at the wall clock before she gives us a half-hearted smile. “Can I help you find something?”

Which I think is her polite way of saying, “Hurry up so I can go home in time.”

“We need a thermometer,” Noah says.

“Down at the end of the middle aisle.”

The shop is filled with souvenir items—T-shirts, mugs, keychains, and other gifts. But there’s also a row of travel-sized toiletries, a stand of packaged snacks, a solitary cold case with milk and drinks, and a small over-the-counter medicine section.

And we’re in luck, because they have a thermometer.

“That can’t be the price,” I gasp quietly. “Fifty bucks for that cheap thing? I bet you can buy the same one online for less than fifteen dollars.”

“We’re paying for convenience.”

“Yeah. But I don’t have to like it.”

Noah chuckles. “I don’t think there’s much danger of you becoming a wild, frivolous spender.”

“Just pay for it, and let’s go.”

The woman finalizes the sale in record time and all but boots us out the door so she can lock up.

Noah holds up the bag as we walk to the elevators. “Strange that our first purchase as married vampires is a thermometer.”

His words nearly make me stumble. It’s not that I forgot that we’re married now. It’s just so surreal.

I’m married to Noah. Noah is married to me.

Officially.

Legally.

All that.

And we can’t even enjoy it because Cassian has picked up some freaky illness, and we’re dealing with stupid vampire politics.

When we reach Cassian’s room and knock on the door, Sophia answers it, looking frazzled.

“Is he okay?” Noah asks.

“He’s lying down.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “He said his head hurts.”

“He has a headache?” Noah whispers, his eyes widening.

She nods, pursing her lips. “I’m worried about him.”

I catch Noah’s arm before we go in. “Are there vampires older than Cassian? He hasn’t…” I gulp. “Reached the end, has he?”

“No, that’s not a problem. There are several princes older than Cassian.”

“And, of course, there was Edgar Elgerson, head of what’s now the Hilden line,” Sophia points out. “He lived until seven hundred seventy-three and only died because a tree fell on his house and crushed him while he slept.”

“Oh…” I say. “That’s good, I guess?”

“For Cassian.” She looks thoughtful. “Not for Edgar.”

Noah gives Sophia a weird look and then says, “Let’s take Cassian’s temperature and see if we’re overreacting.”

The vampire prince watches us as we enter the suite’s bedroom, eyes narrowed, not looking terribly impressed. “Go away—I’m fine.”

“I see you gave him the bed,” I say to Sophia.

“He looked too pathetic,” she answers. “It seemed wrong to put him on the couch.”

Cassian rolls his eyes.

Noah fusses with the thermometer packaging. Once he has it free, he points it at Cassian’s forehead. With an angry beep, the screen turns red as a number with one too many digits flashes across it.

“One hundred-point-eight,” Noah says dumbly, slowly letting his arm fall. “Cassian…you have a fever.”

“We’ve checked it a dozen times,” Cassian says to his doctor, slumped in one of the upholstered chairs in the main room, the phone pressed to his ear.

Noah paces, and Sophia stands on the balcony. I’m on the couch, trying not to freak out.

What could Cassian have picked up that his vampire body can’t fight?

Cassian ends the call and rubs a hand over his face.

“Well?” Sophia demands. “What did he say?”

“He wants me to go in for a blood test.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No, now.”

“Where do we take you?”

“Since it’s so late, he’s making a few calls. He’s going to let me know in a few minutes.”

Those few minutes feel like an eternity.

Finally, Cassian’s phone rings.

“Okay,” he says to the doctor. “Yes, I understand. I will.”

I glance at Sophia, wondering how she’s taking all this.

“What did he say?” she demands the second he lowers his phone.

“He wants me to go to a nearby hospital. They’re expecting me in the emergency room.”

Sophia goes pale. “Is this an emergency, then?”

“We don’t know what it is.”

He’s trying to hide it, but Cassian looks pretty freaked out, too.

“I’ll call a car.” Noah’s already heading for the door. “Let’s go.”

I don’t know if it’s because Cassian is a vampire prince with mighty connections, or if it’s because his situation is highly concerning, but this isn’t like any trip to the ER that I’ve ever experienced. Cassian is ushered into the back almost immediately.

Sophia goes with him, leaving Noah and me in the waiting room.

“Should we grab some coffee?” Noah asks.

“We probably should. It might be a long night.”

The main cafeteria is closed, but there’s a twenty-four hour beverage station stocked with multiple silver carafes. Three contain coffee, and one is filled with hot water. Tea bags and hot cocoa packets are lined up in a basket next to the cups and stir sticks.

We pay the bored attendant and head back. We’re almost to the waiting room when Noah receives a text from Cassian.

“They’ve moved him to a room.”

We quicken our pace, leaving the emergency wing.

Cassian’s door is open when we arrive, so we go in. They’ve had him change into a hospital gown, and he’s on the bed with his arm flung over his eyes. There’s a bright yellow stretchy bandage wrapped around his elbow.

They must have drawn blood.

“They’re running several tests,” Sophia tells us. “They said we should have some of the results soon.”

Noah and I wait in the two chairs by the window, and Sophia sits on a padded chair by Cassian’s side.

Nurses flit in and out of the room, checking on Cassian and noting his stats. Every time someone comes in, they assure him a doctor will be with him shortly.

Shortly must mean a couple hours, because that’s how long it’s been when a man in a white coat knocks on the door. He’s in his mid-forties, fit, with short graying hair.

“Hello, Mr. Chevalier,” he says. “I’m Dr. Anderson.”

“Lord,” Cassian corrects listlessly, arm still over his eyes.

The doctor looks flummoxed. “I’m sorry?”

“Lord Chevalier,” Cassian says with a sigh. “I’m a member of the nobility.”

“Uh, yes.” The man glances at his paperwork. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t feel bad. We don’t have very many lords residing in the States,” Sophia says absently, her attention on his clipboard.

“Yes…” the doctor says, moderately uncomfortable. Then he clears his throat. “We have the results from a few of your tests.”

Cassian lowers his arm to look at the man.

“You’ve tested positive for influenza.” He looks just as flummoxed as the rest of us, though it’s obvious he’s trying to hide it. “Your blood test came back normal, except your levels of Vampiria B are unusually low, and your white blood count is high.”

“What does that mean?” Sophia prods.

“It means Mr.— Lord Chevalier has…the flu.”

“How can a vampire catch the flu?” Noah demands.

“We’re not certain yet, but we’re in the process of looking for answers.” He turns his attention back to Cassian. “For the time being, we’d like to keep you overnight.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Sophia asks, her voice small.

“I believe he’ll be fine. His oxygen levels are normal, and we didn’t find anything particularly concerning in the tests.

We’d normally give him an antiviral medication and send him on his way, but we’re not certain how Lord Chevalier’s body is going to respond to it, so we’d like to keep an eye on him. ”

Sophia nods, clasping her hands in her lap like she’s trying to keep from wringing them.

“I expect news of my hospitalization will be kept confidential?” Cassian says.

“Of course,” the doctor assures him. “And when I consult my colleagues, I will be sure to omit your name.”

“Thank you.” He returns his arm to his eyes, finished with the conversation.

But Dr. Anderson isn’t done yet. He asks Cassian a dozen questions. Though usually cordial, Cassian isn’t in the mood to chat, and his responses are clipped.

When he’s finished, the doctor excuses himself, promising that a nurse will be in to administer the antiviral and pain medication soon.

“Go back to the hotel,” Cassian tells us when we’re alone again. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“This is no way to spend your wedding night.”

Like that matters now—half of it is already over anyway.

“I won’t be able to sleep with you all staring at me,” he insists.

“The doctor said he’s fine.” Noah stretches his back as he stands. “There’s no reason for us to sit in these miserable chairs any longer.”

“Okay…” I cover a yawn with my hand. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Cassian says. But when Sophia joins us by the door, he says, “Not you.”

Sophia glances at us, unsure. “Me?”

“Yes, you. You stay.” This time, the words are a command.

Sophia’s face lights up, and she scampers back to the chair by his bed, eager to play Florence Nightingale.

And then Cassian adds, “Until I’m seated on the throne, you’re not leaving my side.”

She blinks at him. “Because…”

He pulls his arm back and gives her a droll look. “Because I don’t trust you.”