“We need to take the blade out,” Ambrose stated before reaching for it. I smacked his hand away. When he failed for a second time, he stomped his foot angrily. “Melinda, we need—.”
“No, I need to go to the hospital! No offense, but I am not doing redneck surgery on Agatha’s dining table. Take me to the hospital, please.”
Lucien reached to pick me up, but I quickly pushed him back as I felt something began to rise in my throat. Rolling on the side that wasn’t injured, I began hurling up an inky black substance that tasted almost disturbingly like blood. The gasps of my audience didn’t help the bad feeling.
“This is not something mundane doctors can handle, Melinda. You’re poisoned with witchbane. This plant doesn’t exist in your world,” Ambrose explained, grabbing my shoulder and rolling me back over. “Your witch blood is reacting to the poison just like any witch’s would. We need to find who attacked you.”
“He was wearing a mask. I couldn’t see who it was,” I groaned as I tried to sit up. Ambrose pushed me gently, but firmly back onto the table. “I can’t. It hurts.”
“It’s just the poison changing your blood so it can kill you. You must endure—.”
“It hurts,” I screamed in anger now, glaring at the young vampire. “It hurts and I can’t just endure the pain.”
Lucien, who had been strangely silent despite the situation, wiped the tears that fell down my cheeks. I felt a tremble in his touch as he caught the tears that continued.
What was going on in his head? Why was he being so quiet?Sensing my gaze, he helped me sit up.
I used his body to lean against for support as my body began to burn like a fire was moving in my veins. Lucien’s hand held mine as I cried and Isadora left the room. When she returned, she held a map of the town.
“What good is a map going to do?” asked Erie, finally speaking for the first time.
“Take the blade out, Mel. Listen to me closely and do exactly as I say,” Isa urged calmly despite the panic swirling in her eyes. I shook my head at her painful demand. “Mel, listen to me. We need to find the cure. This poison takes less than an hour to kill a practiced witch so we have even less time for you. Please.”
“It hurts, Isa,” I whimpered to the adamant blonde before biting on the inside of my cheek as the wound throbbed.
“I know, but you have to be strong. I know you can survive this. On three just pull it out as fast as you can. Okay?” I nodded, squeezing Lucien’s hand tighter while my other hand wrapped around the blade. “Okay. Good. Now, one, two, three.”
I yanked the blade out, screaming in pain as it exited. The blood around it was black, as was the blood exiting the wound. Lucien put my shaking hand to his lips, kissing it gently.I could still feel the slight tremor in his hands as they held mine. He was scared.
“What is the point of doing that?” Erie asked. “She’s going to bleed out.”
“No, she won’t. Stop talking negatively right now. She needs positivity to do what she needs to do,” Isadora snapped at her cousin. Erie shrunk at her tone, but remained quiet. “Okay, Melinda. Hold the blade over the map and concentrate on the blade. Guide it to find its owner. Can you do that?”
“Here, take this off first,” Lucien spoke for the first time. His hands reached to grasp my necklace, taking it off of me. I felt a weird warmth envelop my body when it was removed. My mind instantly believed it was death creeping closer.
Quickly closing my eyes, fearful of my impending demise, I put all my strength into focusing on the blade. I was willing it to find its owner. The warmth slowly moved through my body until it stopped at my fingers that gripped the hilt of the blade. My hands began vibrating as if the blade wanted free. I tried to keep hold of it, but it managed to slam into the table with a thud. I opened my eyes to find the blade had pierced the location of the only mechanic shop in Burrow Hills.
“You did it,” Lucien praised me while placing a kiss on my head.
“Take her and hurry, Lucien. She used a lot of energy to do that spell. She’s paler than Uncle Titus.” Isadora hurried her brother, but he was already moving.
Lucien pulled me into his arms and within a minute we were at the mechanic shop. One of the workers was outside and appeared to be working on a motorcycle that looked like it had seen better days. As I squinted, I recognized who it was.
Bryon.
Chapter Fourteen
Melinda
Bryon stood there in frozen shock, staring at the wound I sported then to Lucien and back to the wound. “Melinda? What the hell happened?” he demanded as he stalked towards Lucien with growing hostility.
“Your boss, take me to him immediately,” Lucien commanded without answering his questions, his mind set on getting me help instead of idle chatter. Bryon bristled at his tone, but led us into the back where his boss was.
The owner, Hugo Strickland, was an old army veteran who had lost his leg on a tour and returned with a badge of honor and a bench in the square with his name. He was a recluse that kept to his shop while hardly going into town. I had seen him on two occasions, but we never exchanged words.
The times I had seen him, he struck me as a cranky old man with a chip on his shoulder and a bad smoking problem. Even when dating his grandson, I never saw him.
“I see you two managed to find me. Bryon, be a good pup and bring me my suitcase,” Hugo said without looking in our direction. Pup? That was a weird nickname for an employee. He was bandaging the nose I had most likely broken during our fight.
