“Fuck stitches,” he growled. “FUCK!” he bellowed, spinning with an angry hiss as Foxx’s next touch was the little demon just digging his damn fingers into his wounds.
The vampire didn’t look the least bit impressed by his hiss. “You need stitches…and that’s likely going to take at least a week to heal.”
“Just…shut up,” he groaned. But then his gaze zeroed in on Foxx’s hands, it was hard to miss how absolutely coated they were in blood. “You just…stuck your hand…in…me.”
“By the Goddess, Harlow…deal with your touch phobia later. It’s just blood. It’s not like you are going to get an infection or something. You need stitches, and we need to call people.”
Ugh…he had to mentally push the disgust away…and he found it easier to do than normal due to the…searing back pain.
Harlow tried to stand in a way that wasn’t painful—it wasn’t working. “Santiago…we need to call him. We have to find out how these members were infected…or if it’s not just them. There's no point calling Tony until we know how bad it is.”
He frowned when Foxx remained silent.
“What?”
“There was a medic station in case of emergencies. They may still be here.”
“Foxx, stop worrying about my damn back. It’s not like I’ll bleed out.”
“Fine! But it’s just going to take longer to heal the more you put off getting it looked at. How did you get injured anyway?! Like, this is more than you got when we fought those damn overpowered blood moon fueled mutts from hell!”
“Do you really think they stayed around after the screaming and the stampede?! And I just…” He trailed off, not wanting to admit the truth.
“You just, what?”
“I got distracted.”
Foxx frowned. “By what?”
Harlow glanced away. “Does it…matter?”
“Yes, it matters!”
The dhampir hissed. “Fine! I got distracted by you…okay?! Satisfied?! You were just clawing the fuck out of that thing, and I stood there and watched.”
“By…” Foxx giggled. “Me?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, brat!”
“Aww, my old man was distracted by little old me.” The vampire giggled again, happily rocking where he stood.
“Just call Santiago,” Harlow growled.
“Yes, yes, I'm calling him now.” Foxx pulled out the phone he’d gotten from Tony and showed him the screen as he pressed call and set it to speaker, as if he thought Harlow wouldn’t believe him.
“Hello?” Santiago said on answering, though it sounded more like a question than a greeting.
“It’s Foxx and Harlow, Santiago. Save this number. The line is secure, so you can say whatever you want to say without worrying about anyone hearing you. Witch magic, or something along those lines,” Harlow drawled, doing his best to keep the pain out of his voice.
Fucking hell, back wounds were the worst… Always shit that you felt with every fucking movement.
“Witches,”Santiago grunted in disgust.
Yeah…werewolves liked witches as much as most vampires did, Foxx supposed. Them being on the human’s side throughout history…usually had them working against his kind, and often Santiago’s too.
“Santiago, I’m sorry to tell you this…but we ran into six infected werewolves at the fairground in Gally Falls.”
“Six…” the man repeated softly.
