Chapter 10 · Silver in His Veins

Drake's shoulder felt like someone shoved a hot poker through the bone and left it there.

He pressed his back against the stone wall of the chapel, gun still in his hand, and tried to breathe through the pain. The bullet wound wasn't the problem. He'd been shot before. It was the silver spreading through his blood, burning every vein it touched.

"Drake." Ella's voice, low and close. She was crouched next to Lucas, who was sprawled on the floor near the altar. The kid's face was gray. His breathing came in short, wet gasps.

"I'm fine," Drake said. His own voice sounded rough. "Help him first."

"You're not fine." Ella didn't look up. She had her wrist pressed to Lucas's mouth, feeding him. The kid's throat worked, swallowing. "The sanctified silver in that bullet is reacting with the pact blood. I can feel it."

Drake wanted to argue, but another wave of heat rolled through his chest. He sucked in air. Tasted copper.

"Drink," Ella said.

She'd moved. She was right in front of him now, wrist already bleeding. Fresh cut, clean edge. She made it look easy.

"I said I'm—"

"Drake, shut up and drink.