HEALING
Remy was dimly aware of arms around him, of the sudden rush of air as he was hauled out from the midst of the ravening pack of children that had descended upon him. “Stay quiet, and don’t move,” a voice grated by his ear, and Remy obeyed not because he wanted to, but because he was too weak not to.
He experienced a dizzying sensation, the world at times tilting around him, and realized he had been thrown over someone else’s shoulder, which was why he was viewing everything upside down and at dizzying speeds, the ground flying above his line of vision. He closed his eyes, but trying to get his bearings from inside his head only made everything worse. He felt cold; his teeth were chattering despite the heavy moisture that lingered everywhere.
He was burning up, and it was painful. He wanted to thrash from the pain, to roll over on the ground and douse all the imaginary flames that were consuming his body. He felt like he was in a furnace. He wanted to die.
All he could manage was a soft croak.
“We’re almost there. Hold on.”
It was getting hard to think, so all he could do was nod dumbly, even if he was the only one who could see himself agree. “Fuck you, Malekh,” he mumbled, no longer thinking. It seemed only heartbeats later that everything came to an abrupt stop. It felt worse than when it was all still spinning. Someone had laid him down on the ground so that he was looking up at the ceiling. Two faces blurred into view.
“Remy,” Xiaodan said, stricken.
A strange bubble of laughter threatened at his throat. “No tiles,” Remy mumbled, staring at the dark stone above him. “Can’t count the tiles here.”
A debate seemed to be raging above his head. “I don’t know how many times he was bitten,” Malekh was saying urgently, face strangely drawn and pale. For once, he looked like shit, but Remy was in no frame of mind to gloat. The noble was removing his coat; seconds later, Remy felt the blessed weight of it on his chest. His teeth continued to rattle from the cold. “We need to keep him warm. Help me locate all the places he’s been injured.”
“How many were there? He couldn’t have been overwhelmed unless Vasilik had sicced the whole coven on him at once—”
“They were children, Xiaodan,” Malekh’s voice was like sharpened whetstone grinding down on diamond. “Vasilik sent children after him. He hesitated, and they swarmed him.”
“No… oh no.”
“Missing children,” Remy interjected, already halfway into a delirium but singling out the words he remembered and grabbing on to them like a lifeline. “Missing children. All over Aluria. Couldn’t figure out where they’d gone, and now I’ve found them. Found them. Can’t bring them back, but I’ve found—”
“I should have brought some of the serum with us,” Malekh said, snarling in his frustration. “I can try to make it past them again, see if there’s another way out, but I can’t leave you—”
“You have to. If we stay here any longer, he won’t make it.” Xiaodan sounded near tears. “We can’t lose him, Zidan. He’ll succumb to the Rot, and then we’ll have to—I can’t do it—”
“Pocket,” Remy mumbled incoherently. “Pocket.”
“They have all the exits blocked. The only reason Pendergast managed to get close enough to us is because there aren’t any paths going back to the surface in this part of the caves, and they’re less guarded.”
“Pocket,” Remy said, louder this time.
“Snap out of it, Pendergast,” Malekh barked, ragged and angry. “You’re going to fight this, and you’re going to beat it. We didn’t drag your damnable ass from Elouve all the way to Chànggē Shuĭ only to have you die on us now.”
“Zidan, wait. I think he’s trying to tell us something.” A rustling of clothes—Remy didn’t feel any of it—then Xiaodan’s triumphant cry. “Here!”
Zidan drew in a breath. “He’s not always as foolish as he makes himself out to be.”
More indeterminate noises. Remy felt something cool and silver and sharp prick at his skin. “You’re going to be all right, Pendergast,” Malekh said, and then life flooded back into him.
Remy groaned weakly. The burning sensation was starting to ease, becoming much more tolerable than before, but now he was unbelievably thirsty. A different kind of heat was moving in, causing him to twitch uncontrollably.
“Is it working?” Xiaodan’s voice, anxious.
“Give it time to. Now we need to staunch his wounds. He’s still bleeding.” Several sharp, tearing noises. “I’m going to tie a tourniquet around his thigh. Wash these and wrap them around his arm.”
Something was pulled tight around one of his legs, and Remy gritted his teeth from the sudden pressure. A flint was struck. And then something white-hot and agonizing was applied somewhere on his skin, and he cried out.
“Bite, Pendergast.” Something was shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. Remy clamped his teeth down hard onto it, screaming for all he was worth into the cloth. Hours must have passed before the pain receded, back to quick, throbbing stabs that were endurable compared to what he’d just been subjected to.
“Don’t let go just yet,” Malekh instructed, sounding even grimmer. “There’s more to cauterize.”
It was an agonizing, excruciating process, and it took a very long time. By the end of it, Remy was limp and unmoving, hoping that if he pretended to actually be dead, everything else would stop hurting.
“He’s still lost far too much blood.”
“What can we do?” Remy could hear Xiaodan’s heart go baduthump-baduthump-badubadubaduthump. “Can we replenish what he’s lost?”
He somehow felt Malekh hesitate. “You know his thoughts about familiars and taking blood from vampires. He said he’d rather die than—”
“Fuck what I said,” Remy muttered, recovering both a few moments of lucidity and some of his old fire. “Do what you have to do to get us out of here.”
“Pendergast.” Every inch of Remy was either in pain or a worrying numbness, and Malekh’s voice by his ear could still get him so goddamn aroused even in this condition. “You understand that there could be consequences.”
“Give us permission.” Xiaodan was by his other ear, soft and breathless, and his desire only tripled. “Please. We don’t want to overstep—”
“I’m dying,” Remy said faintly. “Fucking fuck me if that’s what it takes.”
He felt his head being tilted up, his neck exposed. He still had that old wound from Zelenka there, though it was healing quick, and he wasn’t sure if they were both going to work their way around that injury or just—
And then his mind stopped functioning entirely as a different kind of agony hit him, the most painfully pleasurable one Remy had ever experienced.
It was Malekh’s fangs sinking down on the base of his neck just above where it met his shoulder, to his right. And then Xiaodan’s on his left, the sudden sharp prick still gentler than her betrothed’s.
And then he was lost.
This was why there had been no lack of demand to become a vampire’s familiar before the ban. Why so many had tried to keep their conditions a secret even afterward, until the Reapers had made it clear that they would be punished with extreme prejudice. It was as good as sex. Remy could feel the heady rush, the sudden surge of euphoria overcoming, overriding his senses until he blanked out, nothing existing within his little bubble of the universe but the intense, arousing pleasure that washed over him again and again.
Finally, they withdrew. Remy laid where he was, panting, wanting more.
“Your turn, Pendergast.” Malekh’s voice was a husky growl, just as hungry. He felt something press against his lips and recognized it as the man’s wrist, which had been slit open. Blood poured into his mouth, and it was the most exquisite experience he’d ever had.
Malekh’s and Xiaodan’s fangs biting into him had been the sweetrum, and this was the lime. It tasted like the finest wine, like the ambrosia of the gods, and Remy continued drinking greedily, yearning for the next mouthful before he was finished with the last gulp. And then the noble was pushing him gently away because it was Xiaodan’s turn, her blood with that delicious hint of smoked cider. Just as sweet, just as addictive, the unbelievable flavor bursting in his mouth.
Remy feasted. He drank long and deeply, and whined when he was finally denied another drop. A new heat had suffused his body, heavy and sensual. He was no longer hurting. All he knew was hunger.
“Please,” he could hear himself begging. “Please, please…”
He heard whispers; Xiaodan’s tormented, aching voice. “We can’t leave him like this.”
He felt more rustling as his breeches were undone, watched as Xiaodan lowered herself to his lips, her gray eyes wondrous. And then she was kissing him hungrily, their tongues dancing. She abandoned his mouth to move lower, laying sweet kisses on his chest and stomach, following the trail down.
Someone turned his chin sideways, where he beheld Zidan Malekh this time, the noble’s golden eyes afire. “Answer me before I forget again,” Remy said, his own tongue still thick from the memory of Xiaodan’s. “Did I win the fucking wager, or didn’t I?”
That brought out a low chuckle from his now-lover. “You won, Remington,” Zidan murmured. “You do always seem to win.”
And then the man’s mouth was on him, more forceful and demanding than Xiaodan’s yielding softness, just as the Fourth Court heiress’s mouth pressed against his stomach.
“Have you ever been with a man, Pendergast?” Malekh murmured.
“No.” It came out a whimper, but Remy was too far gone to be horrified by his subservience, his easy capitulation.
A chuckle, then a tongue drawing lines across his skin, at his neck where Malekh had taken his fill. “A virgin.”
But not too subservient. “I am not a fucking—”
Remy was mollified quickly by Xiaodan kissing his navel, biting him just a little. “Have you ever been with anyone else that you hadn’t been compelled to for favors, Remy?” The vibrant purr of her voice sent small shocks up his body.
“N—no,” Remy stammered, as her hand quested lower, found her prize.
Her giggles floated toward him. “Then you’re a virgin,” Xiaodan said, and shifted down.
They were torturing him, they truly were. Remy had no idea how protracted and lingering bliss could be, drawn out and quartered until he was certain he was incapable of enduring more, only for them to prove him wrong. His conspirators switched frequently, one drawing him further with mouth and beguiling tongue, while the other feasted at him lower, and all Remy could do was groan and fist his hand at their hair, while urging the other deeper, harder, faster, with his hips.
Until finally—finally, finally, finally—they took pity on him, gave him the release he needed. And in an underground cave somewhere at the Dà Lán, among the boundless lands of Qing-ye, ruled by the Fourth Court, Remington Pendergast shattered for the first time.
“FUCK,” REMY said, still prone on the floor, still half-naked and wonderfully dazed. He was exhausted beyond measure; not from the familiar aches that came with fighting, at nearly losing his life, but from the languid sense of completion that only an extraordinarily good tup could achieve. He felt boneless, adrift in the afterglow.
It wasn’t even sex. Or at least what he was accustomed to when he thought of sex. They had only taken him into their hands and mouths. If they were more than capable of wrecking him with nothing but those… then exactly how sublime would it be if they actually…
“Are you all right?” Xiaodan asked gently, cheeks still pink.
“I’m more than all right,” Remy said. “I feel bloody fantastic.”
Gingerly, he peeled himself off the floor for the first time since being brought in, on his own volition no less, and examined himself. Xiaodan had bandaged him with what remained of his tattered shirt, and without poking underneath the strips, he could sense that his wounds should have been more grievous than was normal. He felt the pain when he moved, but nothing as agonizing as when he’d first been bitten. He looked down wonderingly at his leg, where Malekh had cut part of his breeches away to administer his tourniquet. He flexed experimentally. It stung. Nothing he couldn’t handle.
“How?” Humans who chose to be familiars were always in it for the pleasure. None of them acquired the regenerative qualities of the vampires who fed on them.
“It’s not information I tell anyone else, for good reason,” Xiaodan said. “Feeding off me has a few perks beyond the usual aphrodisiacs. Sometimes being a sunbringer can work in my favor.”
“You made me stronger?”
“It’s nothing permanent. It’ll wane as time passes, but you should be good for another few hours.”
Remy looked at Malekh.
“I modified my blood for Xiaodan’s sake, as you know,” came the wry response. “Her constant feeding on me has also imbued my blood with similar properties. I’ve never tested it on a human before, but I suspected it was possible.”
“You really need to stop using your own body as a fucking testing specimen,” Remy said.
“Is that concern for me I detect, Pendergast?”
Remy ignored that. “I was bitten,” he said, remembering the infected children. They had been unschooled and not as strong as their older counterparts, but he had taken pause, which had been his mistake. Vasilik had known he would. The faint terror lingered, remnants of his past rearing back up, but the fears that had nearly overwhelmed him were now somehow muted in his mind, like drinking the couple’s blood had helped him put up the mental barriers he needed not to dwell on them too much.
“You were. I’d like to monitor you closely once we return, ensure you suffer no other side effects. Just as with the Laofong and Huixin villagers, your blood will test positive for the Rot, but it shall lie dormant and harmless.”
“It’s too late for them, isn’t it?” Remy asked stiffly.
“I’m sorry, Remy,” Xiaodan said. “The serum cannot work for those who have already died from it.”
“Fortunate that you brought the reactant I synthesized here with you.” Malekh was back to his grim, expressionless self, like he hadn’t just done gloriously unspeakable things to Remy in the past hour. “You cast doubt about the effectiveness of the serum enough times that I wasn’t expecting you to bring it along as a fail-safe.”
“I still think you’re a bastard for testing it out on people without finding some other ethical means first,” Remy said sourly, the affection he’d felt toward Malekh quickly evaporating.
“Then why bring it?”
“I may not like your methods,” Remy said gruffly, “but I suppose I trust you.”
“You—you trust me.” Remy wasn’t sure why there was a sudden stutter in between the words. Malekh’s eyes were slightly dilated, though the rest of him was still infuriatingly stoic. “You even wrapped the syringe exactly as I instructed. I didn’t think you were listening.”
“I’m not as moronic as you think I am,” Remy said. “I can pay attention and follow orders. I even asked Alegra for your carrying case—the steel one you’re so fond of, since I noticed you prefer it for more fragile equipment, though it’s a shame your ego’s too big to fit.”
Malekh’s breathing seemed to grow more rapid at the teasing jab.
“Zidan,” Xiaodan admonished, but there was an equally lustful expression on her face as she looked back at Remy. “He’ll need some time to recover before anything else.”
They’d given him his release, Remy had realized, but he hadn’t done the same. And now they were watching him like they couldn’t wait for a second round once they returned to Chànggē Shuĭ, like they could barely keep themselves under control.
And Remy was going to let them—wasn’t he?
But the moment was gone; Malekh was already scanning the entrance to their underground lake. “They know we’re here,” he said with dark satisfaction. “But Vasilik’s boys know better than to approach us.”
Remy tugged his own coat back on and noticed for the first time that the place was awash in sunlight. The ceiling curved outward, and several shafts of light streamed in through the small openings there.
“I overexerted myself,” Xiaodan admitted, wincing. “There were far more in Vasilik’s coven than I expected… too many. His plan was to overwhelm us with numbers, and the narrowness of these caves makes it difficult to fight them all at once. He knew it would tire me out.”
“You’ve been exceptionally resourceful, bloodling. I was certain you were dead already or had taken up membership among my infant horde.”
Vasilik loitered by the entrance, though he too did not venture closer to the light. His minions filled the path behind him, most taking fearful glances at the bright rays filtering in.
“Took you long enough to find me, Vasilik,” Malekh said calmly. “Would you like to end things here for good, or shall you skulk away again with your tail between your legs?”
“A fine thing to say, Zidan—you, who had started your kindred life as a moxie of the First Court, drooling at the First King’s feet.”
Vasilik’s gaze shifted to Remy. “And you call me the liar, Pendergast,” the man said, mocking. “Here—let Malekh tell the tale himself. Before he was the powerful, omnipotent Zidan Malekh, king of the Third Court, he was a sniveling little toy for the First Court to play with.”
“Step into the sunlight and face me yourself, Vasilik,” Malekh said, undeterred by the insults and still as composed as ever. “Or have you forgotten how I rescued you from the literal sewers to stand with the Third Court? Even the First couldn’t be bothered to look at you—”
And that was all it took for Vasilik, who came hurtling toward Malekh with such preternatural speed Remy was surprised he could track the vampire’s movements. Malekh avoided the man’s claws as he turned and lashed out with his foot, catching Vasilik squarely in the stomach. The younger vampire skidded several feet away to a halt, a hand pressed against his midsection.
“You’re still several centuries too slow for me,” Malekh said.
“Not even you can fight off my whole army.”
“On the contrary,” Xiaodan said calmly, rising to her full height. “You caught me off guard, but with the fresh sunlight here and your minions’ obvious fear, I doubt that you’d have the same advantage in numbers as the last time. I can take on as many of your followers as you wish, and I promise you I won’t need to stop.”
Some of Vasilik’s minions moved threateningly toward them, but Remy blocked their path, the metallic scrape of his scythe blades snapping loudly into place, the sound echoing against the cavern walls. “You heard the lady,” he said. “Take another step forward, and you won’t be leaving here.”
Vasilik moved again, and this time made a better fight of it, matching Malekh stroke for stroke, parrying whenever the other noble countered with his own attack. Their battle was a master class in combat, movements quick and graceful, jabs and follow-throughs brutal and powerful. Remy watched it all, amazed by how newly heightened his senses were that he could watch them in motion.
But it was clear that in a battle of endurance, Vasilik would come out on the losing end; he was slowing down, his strikes half a second slower than they ought to be, and Malekh caught him a second time with a stunning blow to the head that had the vampire stumbling back.
Malekh was toying with him. Remy could count at least four other instances where the man could have delivered a killing blow to end things the way he’d promised, but always the noble stopped and gave his opponent the chance to recover. “What is he waiting for?” he asked Xiaodan.
But Xiaodan watched with sympathy, eyes tearing up. “As horrible as Vasilik has turned out to be,” she said, “Zidan sired him some hundred years ago. Court law frowns on masters killing their subordinates.”
“Even after Vasilik’s been doing his damnedest to kill him?”
“Vasilik isn’t trying to kill him. He’s trying to kill me, and possibly you as well. But not Zidan. They were together for a long time.”
“You are far too forgiving when it comes to Malekh and his past fucks.”
She grinned weakly. “Maybe it’s that empathy that makes me much more compatible with him.”
Vasilik had given up on attacking directly, instead resorting to moving around Malekh in circles, fading in and out of focus as he sped up, hoping to catch the man in a vulnerable spot. Malekh merely folded his arms and waited, once more the bored noble. “All you’re doing is wasting my time,” he said.
“Maybe your time, Zidan. But I’ve always put mine to good use.”
Remy felt the shift in the air, his senses on full alert long before Vasilik blurred into view before him instead of attacking Malekh.
But instead of shielding himself with Breaker, as he’d often done in the past with vampires far quicker than him, he spun to the left so that Vasilik’s slash missed entirely, then whipped Breaker up like a bat to hit the vampire fully in the face.
The man disappeared, reappeared back at the cavern entrance, clasping at the side of his face with one hand. “You fucking bastard,” he rasped.
“That’s for sticking me into a pit full of infected children, you dandified sot,” Remy snarled, pleased by his unexpectedly improved reflexes. “Malekh might spare you because you have shared history. But I won’t, and I’m going to pummel you out of existence if you don’t let us leave.”
There was an audible snap as Vasilik clicked his jaw back into place. “He will betray you,” he said. “He will lie to you, and he will leave you at the mercies of the very Night Empress you fear. Still you choose to stay by his side?”
Remy didn’t reply; he had no good answer to give.
With a frustrated snarl, Vasilik turned his back on them. “This isn’t over,” he said, and disappeared once more into the passageway, his followers retreating with him.
“I wouldn’t advise following him through that route,” Xiaodan said. “He’s likely to leave more traps, despite what he says.”
“It’s the only way out,” Remy groused. “What else do you propose?”
“There’s an opening above that should be large enough for us to get through,” Malekh said. “I intended to bring Xiaodan through it, but she was far too weak earlier to be moved. It was good that we waited, or else we wouldn’t have found you in time. Can you climb up on your own, Xiaodan?”
“I can.” Xiaodan licked her lips. “Perhaps it’s Remy’s blood, but I feel much more invigorated now. I can last until the castle, at least.”
“Oh, fuck no,” Remy said. “You’re not about to carry me through the damn ceiling.”
“It’s either that or through the underground lake that leads to the Dà Lán, but I’m not sure you can hold your breath for that long,” responded Malekh. “You’re still not as strong as you think you are.”
“I’m not going up there on your back,” Remy said stubbornly. “And you can’t bloody make me.”
“FUCKING HELL,” Remy said not five minutes later, clinging on to Malekh’s back for dear life.