Page 91 of Rafe

Greyson appeared before him and reached for his hand. As they disappeared, acid ripped through his wounds, wracking pain throughout every cell in his body. With a thud, they landed on the hardwood floor. Rafe rolled onto Greyson, screaming out in agony, the poison blistering his body. As his vision blackened into a dark tunnel, his heart pounded, his wolf calling to its mate. Skylar.

15

Tears ran down her face, her heart breaking as Thorn removed Rafe’s clothes. The demonic acid had seared through his vest and shirt, blistering his skin. Rafe moaned in agony as the demon removed the last sock and tossed it in a metal bin.

Skylar dipped a cotton washcloth into a basin of water and wiped Rafe’s face. “Are you sure he’s going to make it?”

“He’s still alive,” Dominique assured Skylar.

“Nasty.” Thorn shrugged as he looked to Greyson who fed from Hazel’s wrist.

During the rescue, the acid had transferred onto the vampire, burning through his clothes. An angry rash remained on Greyson’s chest.

“That thing you saw? Most likely a nasty lower-level demon hybrid from the tenth level. They get off on picking off newbies.”

“Rafe was in for over an hour, but he might have lost track of the time,” Greyson released Hazel’s wrist. “Thanks, lovey.”

“It’s disorienting,” Ilsbeth confirmed.

“We should get him into a shower.” Skylar looked up to the high priestess with reddened eyes.

“After the holy water,” the witch instructed. “He must be cleansed of whatever evil charges the acid.”

“It had horns,” Greyson told them.

Rafe groaned as they rolled him onto his stomach, revealing a deep gash in his back from where the acid had burned through his clothing.

“Oh my God. He looks like he was run over by a truck,” Skylar said.

“God had nothing to do with this.” Thorn inspected Rafe’s body, carefully checking him. “It looks as though only his neck and back are burned.” Thorn looked up to Skylar. “His butt is fine. Maybe the Goddess did have something to do with this?”

“This isn’t a joke,” Skylar spat at the demon. “Look at him. He’s not waking up.”

“He’s gonna have to feed,” Ilsbeth stated.

“Ah, fuuuuck that hurts,” Greyson hissed through his clenched teeth.

“How many horns?” Ilsbeth asked.

“Three, I think,” Greyson replied.

“Cornigerphant Acidus. One horn for each year,” Thorn said.

“A juvenile,” Ilsbeth mused.

“They’re trained for security when they’re older, but youngsters hunt for fun,” Thorn explained.

“Jesus Christ. It was a big sucker,” Greyson told them.

“Ah, the spell.” The room went silent as Ilsbeth bent over and looped her fingers through the golden ties of the purple cloth. “I shall put it on the altar.”

She waved her hand and the wall dematerialized revealing another room. A stone altar, crafted from marble and black stained glass, sat in the center of the covenstead. A semicircular apothecary with thousands of tiny drawers lined its walls. Ilsbeth placed the pouch onto the altar with care and reached for a small clear bottle.

Ilsbeth walked to Rafe and knelt. “This is holy water. I’m going to spray him, then we shall move him to the bedroom to rest.”

Though skeptical of the witch’s ways, Skylar’s spirits lifted as she watched Ilsbeth tend to Rafe. With each coating of the blessed water, his skin appeared to heal, the skin stitching back together.

“Hey,” Greyson called. “Can I get a little of that over here? Fuck, this hurts. Fucking hell.”