Blood War (Book 1, the Halfblood Chronicles)

34 | Uneclipsed

"How bad is it?" Ren asked, gazing through the window of an infirmary room at Konstantin Academy.

He held his breath as the nurse replied, "None of Nika's injuries are fatal, but she needs time and privacy to recover."

The sleeping girl in the hospital bed was motionless. Peaceful. Around her, machines beeped and monitors flashed, and Ren's chest tightened with worry at the sight. He wasn't sure when he'd stopped caring about his duty as a keeper and just started caring, but he hated the way it felt—like he was losing control.

"If you don't mind," said the nurse, "I have other patients to tend to."

He dismissed her with a nod, and since he couldn't stand watching Nika and was unable to enter the room, he tracked down Misha. Walking through the halls of the brightly lit infirmary, Ren didn't even limp. Every bruise and scratch he'd sustained during the battle with Miles—or rather, Asteroth—had healed, and it was all thanks to Nika's blood.

Though he knew he shouldn't have done it, he was glad the feeding had happened. He'd seen memories, just as Nika had when she'd drunk from Ren's vein. And somehow, he understood her better now.

Ren found Misha in the morgue. It was strange for a boarding school to have such a thing, but almost every Daemonstri institution needed one. Had the bodies of supernaturals wound up at human facilities, people would start asking questions. So Daemonstri had their own morgues, even at Konstantin Academy.

Cold, sterile air seeped into Ren's bones as he entered, the steel door slamming shut behind him. Misha didn't even flinch. Standing in the center of the room, his eyes were fixed on the metallic drawers lining the wall.

"Is your head hurting still?" Ren asked, unable to conceal the scratch in his voice.

Hours ago, when they'd first arrived at the school from the cemetery, Misha had been diagnosed with a concussion, as well as a few broken bones. Nothing a little blood wouldn't fix, but there were also wounds that couldn't be seen or treated. Wounds of the heart and mind.

"I'm fine."

"No, you aren't."

Misha was silent for a moment. "All I can think about is how he'll be remembered. People will say he was honorable and loyal, but they have no idea what he's done."

Ren sighed. Both of them still had questions for Emil. Between the suspicious behavior and his vague confession, they knew Emil was a traitor. But he was also the closest thing Ren had to a father, and he couldn't deny the pain his death caused.

"Do you want them to know?"

Misha met Ren's gaze. "Not until I learn why he did it."

Ren nodded. "No one will find out. You have my word—and Nika's."

A breathy laugh. "Told you she'd listen to you." The grief clouding his eyes gave way to curiosity as he said, "Are you two . . . together?"

It took every ounce of willpower for Ren to check his feelings. "No." When Misha cocked an eyebrow, he conceded, "I don't know."

"Well, not only have you kissed your boss's daughter, but you've also fed on her blood. Very honorable, Ren Romanovich."

Ren clenched his jaw as those words dug deep. As if he wasn't already feeling terrible for having these feelings.

Misha swore under his breath and popped his knuckles. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just . . . pissed off."

"At me?"

"At the world. At myself." His swallow was audible, and when he looked up again, his eyes were bloodshot. "I can't believe he's really gone."

It wasn't until he started to shake that Ren swooped forward and gripped his shoulders. He didn't speak as Misha struggled through heaving breaths. Only stood there, waiting, holding him upright.