I rush back to Rahlan. Dropping the sword, I kneel beside his still form. "Rahlan..."

He's lying with his cheek pressed against the stone. His eyes are closed, and his cape is tangled around his legs.

"Wake up." I shake his shoulders, but his body remains limp.

Tears prick my eyes. He's not dead. He's just asleep. He's not dead. He's just asleep.

I lift his shoulder, pulling him over with a groan. He must have bones of iron to be so heavy. He's not dead. There's no way an oil could hurt someone as tough as him. It's impossible.

I strain to let him down gently onto his back. His head lolls onto the stone. He's not dead.

"Rahlan, please wake up." I raise his head up off the hard floor and rest it on my lap. My fingers touch his cheek. His skin is cold, but he's always cold. Why won't he wake up?

He needs help. He needs help, and I don't know how to help him. My eyes jump around the chapel looking for someone who might, but we're alone.

Jaclyn was outside. "Jaclyn!" I scream.

"Jac-Jaclyn!"

She bursts through the door wielding a kitchen knife. Her gaze lands on me, and she goes pale. I'm cradling a huge vampire.

She quickly snaps out of it and rushes over.

"They-" my voice cracks. "They shot him with arrows. Poisoned. I can't- I can't wake-"

"I understand." She kneels beside me and rests two fingers on his neck. Her stern words pull me back from panicking. She's a healer. This is her domain. There's not a person in this whole village better equipped to help Rahlan.

She pinches his eyelids open with two fingers. His red iris is as still as his body.

"He's unconscious," she says. I knew he couldn't be dead, but hearing her say it helps me breathe again.

Her eyes run up and down his body. "He was struck with arrows?"

"Three." I nod. "In both arms and the hip."

She carefully lifts his arm. There's no sign of blood seeping through his sleeves. I run my finger down his cheek, over his rough stubble. Please wake up.

"I need better light." She stands and quickly disappears out the door.

After he was hit with the arrows, I watched him digress from stumbling to unconsciousness. I imagine taking his hand and somehow pulling him up to stand again, but I'm afraid I'll hurt his arm further by enacting a fantasy.

Jaclyn returns carrying a roll of material with two long wooden rods. She lays them out beside Rahlan. It's a litter.

"Lift his shoulders," she instructs.

Keeping his head propped up against my lap, I dig my fingers under his torso and grab his leather coat.

Jaclyn wraps her hands around his ankles and gives me a nod. Straining, we manage to lift him onto the litter, and I gently rest his head on the coarse material.

Jaclyn and I both grab the ends of the wooden rods, and we stand. He's heavy.

We hurry out of the chapel with quick short steps, and she leads the way back to her home.

My fingers burn under Rahlan's weight. I would have asked one of the village men for help, but Rahlan's complexion would immediately give him away as a vampire. Fortunately, the streets are empty. Jaclyn is the only one I can trust, the only one who will help me. If the villagers found out, they'd kill all three of us. Ivan could be raising a mob to storm the chapel at this moment. Jaclyn's risking her life to protect Rahlan, a vampire like the ones who enslaved her, just because he's important to me.

She left her front door open, allowing us to quickly slip inside. My eyes scan over Rahlan the second we're under the living room light. Nothing appears to be seriously wrong. Please let that be the case.

We lower the litter onto the bed in the spare room that Jaclyn had prepared for me.

She closes the front door and fetches a few candles. Soon the room is lit, and the window shutters are closed, preventing any villagers from spotting the vampire that's only yards away from their homes.

"His clothes," Jaclyn says. She begins unbuttoning his jacket and untying his shirt. I unclip his belt and pull off his pants, leaving him in his shirt and underwear. Together, we manage to free his arms from the coat sleeves, but we don't bother trying to move it or the litter out from under him.

I help roll up his shirt sleeve, and Jaclyn inspects his bare arm, pausing at a thin red cut. It looks no worse than a scratch that I'd get playing as a child.

"This was an arrow?" Jaclyn asks.

"Yes," I say. He was hit in the middle of his upper arm, but even I can tell that the mark on his skin doesn't look nearly severe enough for an iron arrowhead.

"It hardly went in. It's too minor to even warrant bandaging," she says.

I glance at his coat sleeve. If there's any blood on it, it's too little to see.

Jaclyn leans over him and checks his other arm. "It's the same here."

I feel the pressure on my chest begin to dissipate. He is tough. He can get through this.

I step back so she has room to check his hip.

She rests her fingers on either side of the cut. "His wounds aren't any danger at all – if you can even call them that."

"And the poison?" I ask.

She rests her palm on his forehead. "Do you know what it was?" The look on her face is not encouraging.

"Queensblood," I say. Ivan was gloating about it. He said that it would shred Rahlan from the inside. Just the thought of that makes my hands tremble.

Jaclyn lights a thin piece of straw on a candle, then she blows out the flame and holds the smoldering piece near Rahlan's nose. The smoke follows his breath.

"His skin is freezing, and he's not breathing well," she says.

I gently touch his forehead. He skin was always cool, but I don't remember it ever being this cold. My mind is so agitated that I can't tell if I'm imagining it.

My gaze meets Jaclyn's again. She drops her eyes and shakes her head. Even without words, her message is clear – Rahlan's going to die.

"But you're a healer?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. The thought of having to secretly bury Rahlan in some hidden ditch makes me feel sick. First Jacob, then Ivan and now Rahlan. I'll have lost everyone.

"I've never heard of Queensblood," she says. "I don't know how to treat it."

Aled showed me a vial of Queensblood two days ago, the moment before the ravager attacked. He must know something about it.

Not wasting a moment, I jump up from Rahlan side and rush out the room.

"Julia?" Jaclyn calls.

My jittery hands fumble on the front door's latch. "I know someone who can," I say. Finally managing to unlock it, I rush out the house.

The freezing air whips my hair in every direction as I sprint down the road. Every moment I waste is a moment longer that the Queensblood attacks Rahlan's body.

Soon I'm at the inn, using all my might to pull the stubborn door open. The wood screams as it scrapes against the floor, and I step inside the tavern the instant the gap is wide enough to accommodate my body.

The candles are out, the tables are vacant, and my bag is gone.

The tavern lights up in a yellow glow as the burly innkeeper steps into the long hallway that connects all the rooms together. Her expression betrays that she's not pleased to see me, probably thinking that I'm an inconsiderate northerner.

"Where's Bevin, Ina and Aled?" I blurt out. There aren't seconds to waste worrying about what she thinks of me.

Her brow crinkles up. "Shh." She brings her finger to her lips.

Not having time to grovel with her, I leap into the hall and grab onto the closest doorknob. There aren't many rooms, and it won't take much time to check each of them.

"Girl," the innkeeper spits under her breath. Her stocky finger points to a door at the end of the hallway.

I rush past her and yank it open, not bothering to knock.

A small dwindling candle in the corner just barely lights the room, but it's enough to see their faces. Three pairs of eyes are staring back at me. They were getting ready for bed, but fortunately weren't yet asleep, as that may have made my task more difficult.

"Find who you were looking for?" Bevin asks.

I nod. The last series of events flash through my mind – Jaclyn, Ivan and Rahlan. I found who I was looking for and much more.

"Then what's so urgent?" he grumbles. He's not pleased that I burst into their room late at night. If I tell them the truth, that I need information on Queensblood to save the life of a vampire I'm harboring, they'll probably turn me over to the townsfolk to be executed.

I gulp. In my rush to get here, I didn't think of a plausible scenario that'll get them to cooperate.

My eyes find my backpack in the corner of the room. "I need this." I walk towards it, taking slow steps to give myself time to think about what to say.

Aled's the one who has the Queensblood, and he has an interest in exotic herbs and poisons. It'll be easier to convince him to help me than the entire group. I could ask to speak with Aled in private? No. At this hour, it'll just draw more suspicion.

I grab the backpack and settle on a story. "Aled, after what we went through, I'd sleep better knowing that I had some Queensblood to defend myself and my family from the vampires."

"I see," Aled rumbles in a deep note. He reaches into his satchel, but he pauses at Bevin's voice.

"Well I'm pleased that your journey was fruitful," Bevin says, "but since we are no longer walking with you, you cannot expect us to surrender our best weapon against the vampires."

A little bit of pride jumps through my heart. He considers traveling with me a form of protection, a little odd considering that I'm smaller than both men in their group.

Gold managed to convince them last time, so I offer it again. "I will pay."

Bevin averts his eyes, clamping his hands together. He wants to make the trade, but his nerves are holding him back.

Ina touches his arm. "We can always head further south tomorrow, away from the vampire lands," she says.

After mulling it over for a moment, he nods. "Very well. It's a silver coin for a bottle."

"My pockets are empty right now, but that won't be the case tomorrow," I say. Rahlan must have a bag hidden somewhere outside the village, and I'm sure he'll have no objection to me trading a few of his coins to save his life.

Bevin glances at the other two before his gaze returns to me. "That's not how business is usually conducted."

"Have I not paid as I promised before?" I say.

His eyes jump to his bag, likely thinking about his new golden doorknob inside.

"I suppose," he says.

Aled already has the vial of Queensblood laid out on the bed.

"And the cure?" I ask.

Aled raises an eyebrow.

"It would be foolish to wield a weapon that I barely understand while being powerless to undo its effects," I explain.

His eyes narrow for a moment. Aled has always been more attentive than the others, and his suspicions towards me were on point. I hold my breath, praying that he'll buy it. Once he gives me the cure, it won't matter what he thinks of me.

He picks two more bottles out of his collection on the bed, one with a clear liquid inside and another filled with brown dust.

"Mix these two together to treat a Queensblood poisoning," he says. "It's no cure, but it may reduce the effects."

"Thank you." I swoop down and grab all three vials before rushing out the door. Rahlan needs this medicine now.

The inn's stiff door is still open, giving me a small sense of relief that I won't have to burn time trying to move it again.

I shoot down the road, making no effort to be quiet or subtle. To avoid any confusion, I keep the Queensblood in my right hand and the two components to make the treatment in my left.

Soon I'm back at Jaclyn's home, shoving her front door open with my shoulder. I hurry inside, heading straight for Rahlan's room.

Dropping my backpack, I kneel beside his bed. He's still unconscious.

Jaclyn closes both the front door and the room's door. She must be concerned that someone may venture inside.

I pop the lid off the powder vial and pour it into the clear liquid. With my thumb sealing the bottle neck, I begin shaking the mixture.

Jaclyn rests her hand on mine.

"It's the treatment," I explain.

"Let me." She takes the bottle from my hands. "You turn him on his side."

She's right. She's a healer, and she has the experience to do it properly. I climb over Rahlan and dig my hands under his torso. Pushing against the wall, I strain to turn him on his side.

Jaclyn holds his head level and brings the solution to his lips. She hesitates for a moment at the sight of his long fangs. Either she's not used to working on patients with fangs, or she's reminded of the teeth that left the inky scar on her body. Pushing past her apprehension, she slowly pours the liquid into his mouth.

A nod of her head indicates that she's done, and I let his body lay flat again, resting his head on a pillow.

Over the next hour, Jaclyn pops in and out of the room. I spend the time watching Rahlan's chest move from beside his bed.

She checks his temperature and breathing again.

"He's improving," she says.

That's good news. I wrap my fingers through his. He's getting better.

She collects the empty vials and heads back to the living room. "We should leave him to rest."

"I'll stay," I say, not looking up.

She stops at the door. "Patients are often thirsty when they awake. I'd leave a cup of water in the room, but I suppose that wouldn't be helpful here."

My eyes meet hers, and the reason for her concern becomes clear.

"I fear that you may end up quenching his thirst," she says.

Being drunk from is nothing more than an irritation at this point, not something I'd fuss about when Rahlan's life is on the line. "I'll be fine."

My eyes return to his chest, watching as his shirt gently rises and falls with each breath. He'll be okay.

It takes a moment before I notice that Jaclyn is staring at me from the door.

"You love him," she says.

"What? No I-"

"I tend to patients with loved ones by their bed every week. It's evident in the way you look at him."

My eyes fall back to Rahlan's sleeping form. Have I really fallen in love with a vampire?

"He was your master?" she asks, unable to believe it herself, "The one who locked you in the underground cells? The one who killed your brother? Are you actually going to give yourself-"

"All I know is that I don't want him to die," I interrupt her. A surge of emotions rushed through me at her words, and I don't know what I feel. I don't know what I'll do when he wakes up. All I know is that I need him to wake up.

"I hope you know what you're doing." She steps out, softly closing the door behind her.

The candle colors the wooden room orange, and the window shutter makes it feel like this little area is removed from the rest of the world, this place that protects both me and the person I'm closest to – a vampire.

I squeeze his hard hand in mine. He'll be okay. He has to.