Chapter 12 · Black Veins and Blood Debt

The iron bar dropped behind Garrick, and my left hand started turning black.

Not all at once. Thin lines first, under the skin of my wrist. They looked like someone had drawn on me with a pen that was running out of ink. Then they crawled toward my elbow.

I yanked my sleeve down fast.

Across the room, Vane stood with his back to me and his fists flat against the door. His shoulders heaved. Every breath he took sounded like it was being dragged over gravel.

The fire popped. The chamber was so hot my shirt stuck to my spine, but my fingers had gone ice cold.

*Three swallows,* I thought. *That's all I took.*

Garrick had walked in smiling, carrying a little clay cup. Healer's tonic, he said. For the Alpha's guest. He'd held it out like a gentleman. I'd been thirsty, and stupid, and I drank it before Vane slammed him into the wall.

Now my tongue felt too big for my mouth.

"Stop breathing like that," Vane said without turning around.

"Like what?"

"Like you're scared." His voice came out low and wrecked. "I can smell it. It's making this worse.