Page 32 of Broken Hearted
His gaze flew to mine. “You dampened my power? Youaretrying to kill me.” Fear flashed in his eyes, and I splayed my hand out on top of the rune across his chest. His heart fluttered wildly against my palm, and my gaze fell to his lips.
“I wouldneverhurt you, Adrien.” The honest admission shocked me, and for a wild second I considered kissing him to prove we were mates.
“I need Elisana. I need my love,” he begged, and it was like ice-cold water down my veins. I retracted my hand as if I’d been burned.
“She’s a witch,” I reminded him.
His face contorted. “Don’t speak about her like that,” he yelled, his eyes wild and unfocused. A thin sheen of sweat beaded his brow, and he looked a little ashen.
I glanced at the door. Was it safe to stay here for a few days? I doubted it.
I thought of the way the fae had stared at my dagger. He wanted to steal it, I was sure of it. And the innkeeper knew I had a man up here against his will. How long before the fae either returned for the dagger or the innkeeper sold me out?
I grasped the sides of Adrien’s face, my gaze boring into his. “Adrien, I need you to trust me. You’re going to have a rough few days as the love potion Elisana force-fed you wears off, and then, when you are feeling better, we can talk about how you can help me. But first we need to get out of here. It will be easier if you work with me. I don’t want to knock you unconscious again.”
He yanked his head out of my grasp and turned away from me, vomiting all over the side of the bed.
My stomach roiled at the sight. I’d taken care of my little sisters when they were sick many times, but I didn’t enjoy it.
I ran over to where there was a bucket sitting in the corner of the room, catching a slow drip from a roof leak, and snatched it. Holding the bucket under Adrien’s face as best as I could, he threw up again. I felt bad that he was vomiting with his hands tied, so I unknotted the strips of cloth and he sat up and grasped the bucket, heaving into it over and over again. He barely had time to breathe between retches. It was awful.
If he tried to hurt me, I’d use my powers on him, but with the dampener rune on his chest I felt confident he wouldn’t be a danger to me.
When he finally seemed to have nothing left in his belly he slumped back in bed with a groan. “We need to move to anothertown. We are too exposed,” I told him and then leaning forward, I hooked my head under his left armpit.
He moaned as I forced him to stand and his legs nearly buckled. Poor guy. Since it was well into the night, I was hoping that everyone was already abed at the inn and we wouldn’t draw much attention as we left.
I was wrong. Despite the late hour, the inn’s tavern was still crowded and we garnered multiple stares as we stumbled downstairs and out the door, the bucket still clenched in my free hand just in case.
“Too much mead,” I laughed nervously, and clutched Adrien’s unbuttoned shirt closed over the rune to cover it. When we got to our wagon I tossed the contents of the bucket into a bush and lay Adrien in the back with it.
“I’m dying,” he said between heaves.
“No, you aren’t. You’re purging Elisana’s poison.” Hadn’t the fae said something about the duration of the sickness depending on how long he’d been enchanted?
“How long were you and Elisana together?” I asked, but then amended the question. “Or rather, how long has Elisana been making your tea?”
“Almost.” He heaved. “A year.” And then he threw up again.
I sighed. It was going to be a long night.
Leaving Adrien in the back of the wagon, I climbed up onto the front bench. Clicking my tongue, I pointed us in the direction of some lights in the distance, and steeled myself for no rest.
We passed a small town in the dead of night. My eyelids kept closing: it had been days now since I’d had a decent night’s sleep,but I knew just one town over from where we were last seen was the first place anyone would look for us. I imagined by now Elisana would be scouring the kingdom for Adrien. So once the lights from the town were far enough behind us, I pulled the horses off on a dirt path that headed east into some sparsely wooded forest.
The moonlight illuminated the path, but just barely. My intention was to pull the wagon into the woods and sleep for a few hours, but at the end of the path was a tiny cabin with no lights on. I wondered if someone lived there or if it was one of those seasonal cabins people used for hunting or fishing trips like we did in winter.
Adrien’s sickness had slowed, but he still moaned between retches, and my heart ached for him. I pulled the wagon right up to the small house, deciding if someone was there, I’d tell them I was lost or offer coin for lodging.
I knocked on the door, quite loudly since it was the middle of the night and I wanted to wake whoever lived there.
Then I waited. One minute. Two.
I knocked again, swaying on my feet with exhaustion just as Adrien got sick in the wagon for the hundredth time.
Finally, feeling bold, I tried the handle.
Locked.
