Perigee [bxb] | Bad Moon Book II

30: {Jaylin}; blood and snow

"It belongs to Ziya."

Imani had gathered everyone into the dining room that night. Those who couldn't sit, stood in any corner they could squeeze themselves into. Jaylin watched the coffee in his hands ripple with the vibrations of the table.

"Why would Ziya's blood be on the bullets?" Sadie asked.

"Better yet," said Tisper, "why is it..."

Obviously, she didn't want to say it. No one wanted to say it.

"Killing him," Jaylin finished for her.

Some of the wolves around seemed to accept the news in silence, but others were just as lost as the humans who invaded their space.

"Queens are absolute in our society," Imani explained. "There is no mutiny, no impeachment of a queen. They exist until their bodies give away to time. If wolves have issue with the queen in power, we have the option to bring forward a grievance or to wait out her ruling. Physically, we can not kill a queen."

Leo made a surly grunting sound into his palm.

"What she's saying is it's like a self-defense mechanism," said Izzy. "Like monarch butterflies. They eat poisonous milkweed as larva, and the poison what keeps predators from feeding on them."

"So her blood's poison?" Matt deduced, minding his battered knuckles. "Or—wait. Are you guys the butterflies? Who's what in this analogy?"

Imani raised her chin—that defiant, jerk to the heavens that made her seem so wise and empowered. "Yes. Her blood is poisonous. A single bite would be the death of us."

"Ain't just that," Leo grumbled. "Queens heal too fast. Hundred times faster than we do. Even guns'd be useless on her."

"And they can turn us." Izzy frowned. "Whenever they want. Just like Qamar did to you, Jay. From wolf to man, or the other way around."

"So how do we cure him of Ziya's blood?" Alex asked, his nose a canvas to all the plum-pink colors of a lilac field.

"I don't know."

Jaylin had to look up from his mug to be sure Imani was the one that said it. Hearing something so uncertain from her was a lot like warm rain. Snow in July. Those words didn't belong with that voice; they shouldn't be coming from that body.

"Nicon has the witches under his care as we speak," Imani said. "I've asked him to bring Devi. The witches have an elaborate past with our kind, and Nicon is well educated about our society and Ziya's ways. Perhaps They'll have more answers for us."

It was difficult to sleep that night. Every second Jaylin tried, he was denying himself the will to sneak into Quentin's room and curl up beside him. But his wounds had gotten worse. Jaylin feared touching him at all.

He slept on the couch, for whatever sparse minutes of sleep he could find. And when he woke the next morning, it was to Quentin's voice. Distant and soft, but somehow within his deep sleep, Jaylin's ears found that sound and latched onto it tight.

He shoved himself to his feet before he was even fully awake, and hurried to the bedroom door. Just inside, Imani sat in a chair to the right of the bed, a bowl of something white in her lap. When she saw Jaylin, she set it aside.

"Good, your monster's awake." There was a breath of distress to her words that made the edges a bit harder. She moved briskly past Jaylin, muttering as she went, "You try to feed him."

And when the door shut behind her, Jaylin only had to look back to that grin on Quentin's face to dissect the situation.

"You shouldn't make her so mad," he said. "She's been working hard to take care of you."