And I couldn’t stay with my grandsire. When I told Benjamin I wanted to leave, he went into a terrible rage and killed one of my children in retaliation. His sons held me down and forced me to watch.” Jack bit back a harsh sound. “And my daughter. My daughter. They—”
He retched. He clamped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late to keep the blood from escaping as he vomited. It streamed over his chin, soaking into his dark shirt. Lobero leaped up, barking sharply and pawing at his back.
Unable to stay away a moment longer, I rushed to Jack’s side.
“Diana!” Gallowglass cried. “You must not—”
“Don’t tell me what to do. Get me a towel!” I snapped.
Jack fell to his hands and knees, his landing softened by Matthew’s strong arms. I knelt beside him as he continued to purge his stomach of its contents. Gallowglass handed me a towel. I used it to mop Jack’s face and hands, which were covered with blood. The towel was soon sodden and icy cold from my frantic efforts to stanch the flow, the contact with so much vampire blood making my hands numb and clumsy.
“The force of the vomiting must have broken some blood vessels in his stomach and throat,”
Matthew said. “Andrew, can you get a pitcher of water? Put plenty of ice in it.”
Hubbard went to the kitchen and was back in moments.
“Here,” he said, thrusting the pitcher at Matthew.
“Raise his head, Diana,” Matthew instructed. “Keep hold of him, Andrew. His body is screaming for blood, and he’ll fight against taking water.”
“What can I do?” Gallowglass said, his voice gruff.
“Wipe off Lobero’s paws before he tracks blood all over the house. Jack won’t need any reminders of what’s happened.” Matthew gripped Jack’s chin. “Jack!”
Jack’s glassy black eyes swiveled toward Matthew.
“Drink this,” Matthew commanded, raising Jack’s chin a few inches. Jack spluttered and snapped in an attempt to throw him off. But Hubbard kept Jack immobilized long enough to empty the pitcher.
Jack hiccupped, and Hubbard loosened his hold.
“Well done, Jackie,” Gallowglass said.
I smoothed Jack’s hair away from his forehead as he bent forward again, clutching at his visibly heaving stomach.
“I got blood on you,” he whispered. My shirt was streaked with it.
“So you did,” I said. “It’s not the first time a vampire’s bled on me, Jack.”
“Try to rest now,” Matthew told him. “You’re exhausted.”
“I don’t want to sleep.” Jack swallowed hard as the gorge rose again in his throat.
“Shh.” I rubbed his neck. “I can promise there will be no nightmares.”
“How can you be sure?” Jack asked.
“Magic.” I traced the pattern of the fifth knot on his forehead and lowered my voice to a whisper.
“Mirror shimmers, monsters shake, banish nightmares until he wakes.”
Jack’s eyes slowly closed. After a few minutes, he was curled on his side, sleeping peacefully.
I wove another spell—one that was meant just for him. It required no words, for no one would ever use it but me. The threads surrounding Jack were a furious snarl of red, black, and yellow. I pulled on the healing green threads that surrounded me, as well as the white threads that helped break curses and establish new beginnings. I twisted them together and tied them around Jack’s wrist, fixing the braid with a secure, six-crossed knot.