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Sekh and G took a step apart, allowing me to see the man on the floor in front of them.
Thierry Isador slumped on his knees, his head sagged forward. His hands and arms were covered in festering welts, scabs, and bruises, though he didn’t have any fresh wounds. My stomach churned at the thick, rotten smell in the air. More than death and decomposition. I imagined it smelled like a hospital ICU plus the morgue. Cancer and C-diff and tuberculosis and thick blood clots. Dying cells and virulent infection. Dissolving lungs and disintegrating muscles mixed with vomit and shit and curdled blood, poured into decades of fermenting sewage.
Horrible. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the smell completely out of my nose.
He wore tattered clothes that might have been jeans and a T-shirt once upon a time, but now they looked like the rags worn by someone shipwrecked on a deserted island a lifetime ago. His hair was a shaggy dirt-colored mess of matted clumps, and a filthy, scraggly beard covered most of his lower face.
But when he lifted his head, his eyes were the piercing sky blue of a bright summer day. Shimmering with tears at the sight of me.
Not the Dauphine’s golden-brown eyes I’d seen in Mom’s corpse.
His neck corded, his shoulders bunched up with effort. His mouth opened, his tongue flopping inside his mouth, coated with a thick white layer of scum. He croaked out sounds but not words. I wasn’t sure if that was part of the geas the Dauphine had put on him, a visible element like a wad of cloth shoved into his mouth to silence him. Or if it was a side effect of his sickness. His head jerked, one side of his face tensing and pulling upward, while the other side sagged. Could Aima have strokes? Or brain damage from lack of blood and oxygen?
He didn’t lunge toward me or otherwise move. Which was good, because Lew vibrated with tension, his arms poised around Thierry’s head, ready to tear his head off his body.
I took a step closer, shadowed closely by Rik. He didn’t block me from my goal or try to shield me with his body. Not when he had three of my most dangerous Blood between me and the threat.
Looking at Thierry in person didn’t yield any new insight I hadn’t already gleaned from Magnum’s video. There was something black working its way through his veins, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Not without examining it closer.
I either needed to touch him—which wasn’t happening—or I needed to get my blood inside him so I could see what the hell was going on.
He could understand me, and I didn’t want to cause him any more trauma than he’d already endured. “I’m going to take a sample of your blood?—”
Recoiling backward in an awkward flop to the ground, he tried to crab crawl away from me, though Lew blocked him with his legs. Leaving dark smears on his jeans that made me shudder. Thierry’s skin was literally falling off in thick, gummy layers, and there wasn’t anything underneath but black goo.
I surged through Lew’s bond, searching for any taint or curse sliding into his body, but his blood remained untouched. If Thierry was carrying a boobytrap activated by touch, it’d be waiting for me to touch him. Not one of my Blood. Though I still wanted them to have as little contact with him as possible.
“Okay,” I said shakily. “Plan B. I’m going to give you my blood first, but I’m not going to touch you, alright? Okeanos, please bring the tray to me.”
My Blood grabbed the silver tray Magnum had placed by the door and carried it to me. I’d asked her to have several clear glasses available to capture blood, and something we could use to send a sample to Dr. Borcht for further testing. If I couldn’t do anything with my power, hopefully she might be able to help. Though again, I had little faith in human medicine.
I opened the shield just enough to allow my blood to drip into one of the crystal goblets. I had the feeling Thierry would need a whole lot of blood to even begin putting a dent in healing him, but I’d start with a few swallows. That should give me enough of a foothold in his body to see what we were dealing with.
“Daire, could you give this cup to him and help him drink it if needed?”
“Of course, my queen.” Daire took the cup to Thierry, and I didn’t miss the fact that he stepped around Guillaume’s side—as far away from Sekh as possible.
Maybe it wasn’t Sekh and Mehen who needed to bond, but my two felines.
:With all due respect, Your Majesty, that’s not fucking happening,: Sekh said in the bond. :I will honor your bonds but I will not ever consider him friend.:
:Why not?:
:I Saw what he tried to do to your cobra queen.:
Ohhhh. I thought it was a cat thing. Not a Blood issue. :He?—:
:There’s no excuse,: Sekh broke in before I could explain. :Not for Blood sworn to honor his goddess through his queen. Your alpha was far too easy on him. I never forget and only rarely forgive. I’d have made you an attractive fur rug to place before your fireplace.:
Grimacing, Daire squatted down beside Thierry. I was worried he might have heard Sekh’s comments in the bond, but Daire was only responding to the stench rolling up from the still flailing, flopping man on the floor. Thierry struggled to coordinate his body enough to leap up and reach for the cup of my blood. Daire had to help, tipping it up to his mouth and controlling the pour into his scabbed lips, torn by jagged, broken teeth.
He moaned so loudly I thought he might burst into flame without me even intending to burn him up like Greyson.
I touched my blood in Thierry’s mouth, intending to slide through his body as my blood soaked into him.
Rotting meat engulfed my senses, crawling with maggots and filth.
I flinched, twisting my awareness away. Bile surged up my throat. I didn’t want to throw up, especially not inside the shield. Whirling around, I pressed my face against Rik, clinging to him. Wishing I could smell the smoking iron and rock in his scent. Feel the heat of his body against me. He crushed me against him, lifting me off my feet, already turning to carry me away.
