Page 74 of Just the Pool Boy at Vampire Mansion

“Oops.”

I let another one go, and it clattered on the ground.

“Get on with it!” Jeremy snapped. “Make the water friendly.”

“Sure, right, yeah.”

“Now, Witherborne, prepare to bleed,” Jeremy said, in a climactic villain voice.

Right one cue, Theo’s eyes rolled, and his head lolled. Theo passed out, because there was no way he’d be able to stay conscious knowing he was about to bleed all over the place.

I dropped all the pots and buckets at once, creating a huge cacophony of irritating noise and chaos, as though I had no idea what I was doing. Which was accurate.

“The fool! He must be awake for this!” Jeremy grabbed Theo by the shoulders and rattled him.

I tore the lid off the huge bag of salt used as softener, grabbed the scoop, scooped out a load of salt, and flung it in a huge, gritty arc at Jeremy, taking a gamble that salt in his face would be more effective than wine. The rain of granules hit him across the cheek. His bark skin sizzled. Jeremy screamed, recoiled, and dropped Theo . . . into the pool.

The water swallowed him.

Out cold, he would drown in seconds.

No, no, no. That wasn’t supposed to happen!

I dove into the simmering water, just like I had with Fleur, only this time the water was furious at me, at Jeremy, at everything that had been done to it. It didn’t want me or Theo in it. Bubbles erupted, churning around me, stealing any sense of which way was up. I sank, pulled down, displaced, going deeper, darker.

This was clearly no normal pool.

I kicked, lungs burning, and then, there . . . Theo’s body, arms and legs spread, not moving. Drifting above me, weightless in the water. I grabbed his wrist and pulled, kicking hard for what I hoped was the surface. The water sloshed, pushing in, trying to tug me down, like it had when it had grabbed me before.

There was darkness down there, a thick, hungry darkness. The pool didn’t have a bottom, it had a somewhere else . . . Somewhere the Briars would arrive from, if Jeremy got his way.

I kicked harder, fighting the swirling current.

I broke the surface with a gasp, grabbed the pool’s edge, and heaved Theo’s deadweight out of the water alongside me. His head flopped onto the tiled edge, eyes closed, mouth spilling water.

“Hey, hey . . .” I tapped his cheek. More water spilled from his lips.

Damn. This was not good.

I looked up for help, but nobody was around. Jeremy had gone too.

Theo wasn’t breathing.

CPR. Right. Office training days. Think! How’d it go again? Sing the Bee Gees “Stayin’ Alive” . . . one hundred twenty-three beats per minute. I clasped my hands together and pumped his chest to the lyrics of “Stayin’ Alive” playing on a loop in my head.

I could do this, I could keep him stable . . . Surely someone would come?

“Help!”

It went on for too long. Was I hurting him? Not if he was dead, dumbass. Why did Theo always almost die around me? Why was I always the one saving him? Why did I care so damn much about Theo Witherborne?

He bucked, spluttered, and vomited up a load of pool water over me and himself. Then he flopped back, bright eyes open and wild, mouth gaping, fangs there. Long. Curved. Sharp.

“Hey, hey . . . you’re alright,” I told him, holding his shoulder up, to keep him sitting upright so his lungs cleared.

His gaze latched onto mine. “Owen . . .” he croaked, wiping his mouth.

I grinned. Relief rushed through me in a cold, shivering wave. I patted his arm. “Yeah, you’re good. Jeremy’s gone for now, but he’ll be back.”