Virgin Sacrifice to the Last Lycan - Chapter 160: Chapter 160

Helen’s POV
I jerked awake, drenched in sweat and heaving for breath. Not that I liked being tortured in the moment, but somehow waiting for pain to arrive was almost worse. I wish you’d just gone back to bloodying me up during my dreams, I thought.
I had to find the Huntsman, and I had to stop him.
I looked at the clock. It was only 5:00 a.m. I hadn’t been asleep for very long. I was going to have to find a way to get some sleep for real. Surely there had to be a way to keep him out of my head and out of my dreams.
Wait. Maybe that idea held something.
The Huntsman couldn’t get into my dreams if I didn’t dream. I would just have to find a way to induce dreamless sleep. And then, perhaps, I could get some rest in peace. The only thing I had in the house that I knew would work was alcohol.
I went down to the kitchen, and I found a bottle of hard liquor. It was going to take something stronger than wine to knock me out and keep me asleep without dreaming. Pouring myself a full mug of this stuff, I wrinkled my nose as the acrid scent wafted off the top. The mug held more than several shots worth.
I’d never had that much hard alcohol. I was a light drinker as it was, but that meant that this much would surely put me out. I slugged back the first gulp, and it burned all the way down my throat and into my stomach. After the second gulp, my whole gut felt hot, and the room was starting to move ever so slightly on its own. By the time I finished the mug, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to get back up the stairs.
I stumbled into the living room, grabbing a blanket on my way past a chair where it had been folded and left, ready for whatever occasion arose. This was a good enough reason to break out my new things in my mind. Curling under the blanket, I collapsed to the couch and let the alcohol-induced slumber take over.
“Helen.”
Someone shook my shoulder, their voice sounding over loud and slamming against my brain.
“Helen. Are you all right?”
I knew the speaker, and I growled at them. “Go away.”
Russo sniffed at me. “Why do you smell like a distillery? are you drunk?”
“I was,” I grumbled.
The contents of my stomach came up, and before I could stop myself, I’d thrown up all over his feet. A hot blush of embarrassment raged across my face.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled.
Russo stepped back. “What happened after we left last night?”
I sat up, rubbing at my pounding temples. “Is this a hangover?” I groaned.
“Sounds like it. Let me go get you something for that.”
Russo’s footsteps disappeared, but I noticed that he’d left his shoes behind. They were covered in my yuck. When he came back, his feet were bare. He must have removed his socks and put them in the sink or something.
“Here,” he said. “Drink this.”
The smell of some sort of pepper burned at my nose. “Are you sure?”
“It’s a hangover remedy. That’s all I can tell you. You don’t want to know what’s in it, and it’s best if you slug it back in one chug. But I promise it won’t hurt you.”
I wrinkled my nose at the concoction but did as he ordered. It burned on its way down like the liquor had but in a different way, coating my throat, then my stomach, and finally calming the churning turmoil inside. Now just my head pounded. He handed me a glass of water and several Tylenol.
“Here, take these,” he said. “It’ll take the edge off.”
I swallowed the medicine and sat back. “Since when did you get so good at caring for hangovers?”
He gave me a cheeky wink. “I’ve had my days of youthful exuberance like anybody else. Now, what got you that drunk?”
I tipped my head back, wishing that the medicine would work faster on my headache. But at least I didn’t feel like throwing up anymore.
“The Huntsman was back in my dreams.”
Russo let out a little growl.
“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “He didn’t hurt me this time, but he did threaten he’s thinking up some new way of tormenting us all. So, I think that Justin and I definitely need to be on the lookout for whatever he has planned next. He seemed positively gleeful about it, and I can’t imagine that means anything good.”
I groaned and rubbed at my forehead. “After I woke up, I couldn’t stand the thought of meeting him again in my dreams. I thought maybe if I could sleep without dreaming that he wouldn’t show up again. So I came downstairs, and I had an entire mug of hard alcohol.”
Russo barked one quick laugh. “Well, that explains the hangover.”
“Shh . . .” I said. “Not so loud. Jeez. My head feels like someone’s taking a hammer to it. But yes, I did drink that much, and now I’ve got the hangover to pay for it. So, congratulations on pointing out the obvious.”
Russo crossed his arms and shook his head at me. “You make a grumpy hangover sufferer. Did drinking that much work?”
“Yes, well, I don’t know,” I admitted. “I didn’t see him again after I went back to sleep, but I don’t know whether that’s because of the alcohol that I drank or because he was done with me for the night. What time is it?” I asked him.
“It’s almost noon.”
I groaned. “Well, the alcohol got me seven hours without being interrupted. I had the drink around 5:00 this morning, so . . .”
The sound of the knock on the door sent me flying off the sofa. I looked at Russo with alarm in my eyes.
He chuckled. “Relax. I’m expecting someone.”
“Who?” I demanded.
“That’s a bit of a surprise for you.”
He turned and went back to my door without even waiting for my blessing to let someone into my own house. Wait a second. Now that I thought about it, Russo let himself into my own house without anyone asking him, too. I’d still been passed out on the sofa.
He opened the door and greeted whoever was on the other side with a warm, “Hello.”
“Good morning, Russo.” It was a female voice that I didn’t recognize at all.
A moment later, Russo came back into the living room, leading a werewolf girl about my own age. I’d never met her, although she looked vaguely familiar. Perhaps I’d seen her around the village.
“Helen,” Russo started, “have you had the pleasure of meeting Julianne?”
I shook my head, unsure where this was going.
“Well then, I’ve had the pleasure of making friends with Miss Julianne while you and the alpha have been involved in other business. I believe she’s very close to your age.” He looked at Julianne. “You’re twenty-three, right?”
She nodded her head.
“Just a little older,” I said.
“Right. Julianne and her husband are newly mated, and now that she’s got building their little nest together under control, she was thinking about picking up another job.”
A frown settled on my face. Was I seriously getting saddled with a babysitter already?