He nods. There’s no reaction when I stick the needle into his wound and inject. There’s no wonder he wasn’t able to stand. He can’t feel a fucking thing.
Well, that’s concerning.
I poke at his leg, moving up toward his knee until I get a reaction. He flinches just below his kneecap. Yep, definitely concerning.
When the syringe is empty, Notto hands me a second. I exchange it and inject more of the anti-venom. Maybe it’ll work. Maybe it won’t. At least I’m doing a good deed for the day, right? That counts for something.
If he dies, it won’t be because I didn’t try.
The thought of him dying makes my chest tight, and I frown. Seriously, what does this mean? My fingers pause in poking at his swollen leg while I examine it. It’s very similar to how I feel… My eyes drift toward Notto and Drystan beyond him.
Ew. Nope. Not happening.
I pull the needle out a little too harshly, and the man flinches. He felt that. Hopefully that means the stuff is working and not that I fucked his injury up more.
Ignoring the implications of this entire afternoon when I followed some stupid instinct to save this human, I busy myself with cleaning his wound.
“What’re you doing out in the world alone?” I ask. “Solitary humans are easy victims, especially for beasts.”
“Hunting the monsters that killed my parents,” he answers.
“By yourself?”
“I’ll happily die in the effort.”
“Uh huh. You realize that you’d just be wasting your life, right? That’s not exactly avenging their deaths.”
“In my experience, humans are cowards. No one I’ve met has been willing to join me.”
I look at his face again. I can feel his anger and frustration.
He meets my eyes. “I’ve killed plenty of monsters.”
Ohhh. Look at him threatening me. I grin. “Have you?”
“Yes.”
Notto clucks his tongue and leaves the room. He’s apparently not a fan of my new friend.
“I’ve killed lots of humans,” I tell him since we’re bonding over the blood we’ve spilled. “Andmonsters.”
He’s not as into this conversation as I am. Maybe it just feels like bonding to me?
We lapse into silence while I continue to work on his wound. It’s pretty clean now, but I don’t dare bandage it in case the poison needs to bleed itself out. I’m not sure how anti-venoms work.
“What is this place?” he asks.
I look up, my eyes trailing over our surroundings. “An old doomsday shelter. Interestingly enough, the beasts that roam the world don’t show an aptitude for living underground. They dominate the water, air, and land, but not underground. Once we realized that, the doomsday shelters were sought out and kept up. Expanded on.” I shrug. “If you can find one, it’s a safe haven that will offer you the basic necessities of life in relative safety.”
“Like the libraries.”
I nod, flashing him a smile. Good that he knows monsters keep out of the libraries too. I feel like I should point out that it proves not all monsters are bad.
“There are a lot of these places?” he asks. “Doomsday shelters?”
“More than you might think,” I say as I wrap his ankle. I’m relatively convinced that the poison isn’t going to travel back down and seep its way out of the wound. My eyes travel, following the dark lines of poison up his legs, wondering ifthey’re retreating, halting, or continuing to move upward. “Do you feel any different?”
“Less nauseous,” he answers. “Who are you?”
