Page 82 of The Vampire's Lament
I expected Aidan to mock him. Instead, he responded with, “I was hoping you would do that.”
He disappeared, his little display concluded.
The bastard wanted us to know he was invincible. For the moment, at least.
Paris’s shoulders drooped and he fell to his knees, hitting the floor with a sickening crunch. “Damn.”
I crouched beside him, wanting to stroke his hair, to comfort him in any way I could.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I said.
An executioner screamed, voices answered, the panic so thick it almost seeped through the walls. A once delicious energy curdled in my stomach because it pained Paris to hear.
I’m changing…
Finally, the elf answered me. “I don’t know what to think anymore. I’ve betrayed my people, my sister’s memory, and now Hal’s… Fuck it.” He lowered himself onto his backside, the tip of his weapon clinking the floor. “I have to get out of here. I have to fix this bullshit.” He lifted his head, those magnificent eyes stifling my response.
I could gaze into your eyes forever.
Paris sniffled, looking so exhausted. “Let’s just get through the day so we can head out to Glimmer City.” His expression went from wearied to determined. He got to his feet, a steeliness taking him over. “Can we hit the sack? Separately, obviously.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. The body’s ready.”
“What about the heart?”
An executioner roared their panic, illustrating my point.
He quivered, wrapping his arms around his body. “I…I guess…”
“I have an idea.”
I looked up to see Medusa, who was keeping her distance.
“What is it?” I inquired.
“Suspending Gas,” she answered. “Put them out for now.”
Paris pushed himself onto his knees. “Can we do that?”
I ran my tongue over my lips. It would be better than setting them free, and would buy us time.
But it would still be seen as a mercy.
“What do you think?” Paris pressed me.
Suspending Gas put a mortal into a deep coma, suspending all bodily functions, including hunger. It held them in stasis for a week, the particles in the gas pausing time.
I agreed, the hope on Paris’s face too much to refuse.
He sagged with relief. “Thanks. I…I owe you one.”
I let that fall away, not wanting him to be in my debt.
“Thanks for the idea,” he said to Medusa.
“You’re welcome, sugar,” my friend answered softly, giving me a weak smile.
