Chapter FortyI wake up to a bergamot scent and open my eyes.
Rose is handing a cup of what must be Earl Grey to the already-awake Felix.
“Hello.” I stretch, noticing how amazing I’m feeling. “How is everyone doing?”
“Felix seems to be good as new,” Rose says.
“What about Vlad?” I ask.
As though in reply to my query, Vlad steps into the room.
The only thing wrong with Vlad is his clothes. I never imagined him to be a Matrix fan boy, or to wear movie t-shirts for that matter.
“I hope it’s okay,” Rose says to Felix. “I took some of your clothes to replace his bloody rags.” She whitens at the memory.
“No problem. I have ten of those, so you can keep that one,” Felix says, studying Vlad with a tinge of jealousy.
If Felix is thinking those clothes have never looked as good on him as the
