“No way,” I reply, already shaking my head. “Not with Shade like this. We need to help him.”
“We can’t move him,” Hunter says flatly. “He’s losing too much blood. If we try to carry him out, we might kill him.” I can see the flashing of his red eyes, and I’m reminded of vampires’ innate bloodthirst when they’ve shifted. To his credit, though, Hunter doesn’t complain a bit, instead setting his jaw and looking from one of us to the other while we debate our next move.
“I’m not abandoning him,” I state, my tone brokering no argument.
“We’re not asking you too, Boots,” Landon reassures me. “We’re in this together.”
I shoot him a grateful look, and he gives my hand a squeeze.
“Millie,” Silas says hesitantly, and the fact that he’s using my real name is enough to tell me it’s serious. “Do you think you might be able to…?”
He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for my stomach to drop. Slumping forward, I bury my head in my hands. “I can’t,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “They did something to me. Took my powers away. I can’t shapeshift for shit.” If I still had access to my witch form, I might be able to cast a healing spell. Nothing life-saving—I’m not powerful enough for that yet—but it might at least stabilise him. Instead, I’m left to watch as one of the guys I love bleeds out on the forest floor, as useless as any other human, and the thought makes me want to scream. The tears are coming harder now, and it’s all I can do to bury my face in my hands and stifle my sobs. The adrenaline is wearing off by now, and the ugly, brutal reality of my situation is at last sinking in.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
I jump at the feeling of a hand on my back, and turn to see Silas gazing into my eyes. He reaches up to brush the tears off my cheek with his thumb. “Hey,” he murmurs, “this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. We’re going to figure this out.” Seeing that I’m in no state to be making decisions, he straightens back up and puts his hands on his hips. “We’re going to need to treat him enough to get him to a real medic. Millie, can you put pressure on his side for me?”
I nod and do as I’m told. Shade lets out a low moan as I press the palms of my hands onto the wound, and the sound of it makes my throat tighten. “Do you have an idea?”
Silas purses his lips as we all stare at him and then gives a curt nod. “Maybe,” he replies, and then turns to Hunter. “But I’m going to need your help.”
“Mine?” Hunter’s eyebrows shoot up. “What do you…?”
“Vampire blood has anaesthetic properties, right?” Silas asks, cutting him off.
Hunter stares at him for a moment, and then nods. “Yeah,” he replies. “It’s a bit like an opioid. It’s why the witches nearly hunted us to extinction back in the day. I think it’s still sold on the black market in some places.”
“You’re saying it can’t heal Shade? Only numb him?” I ask, my heart already sinking. If their plan is just to make him comfortable while he bleeds out…
“No,” Silas replies, shaking his head. “But I can heal him.”
“I didn’t realise you’d had medical training, Aconyte,” Landon mutters dryly.
Silas shoots him a look. “Not now, Landon. I’m talking about fire. Dragon fire, specifically.”
I watch Hunter’s eyes widen with comprehension. I’m barely following as it is. “You’re going to cauterise it,” the vampire shifter states.
Silas nods. “It won’t replenish the blood he’s lost, but if we can keep him from losing any more, we might be able to save him. What do you think, Boots?” he asks me. I’m reminded once again that I’m still the final word in these matters, and for some reason, that only saddens me more. But there are more important things to worry about right now than my own damaged pride.
“Do it,” I reply without hesitation.
Hunter is already shifting back into his vampire form. He’s really getting the hang of it. “Does someone have a knife?” he asks, rolling up his sleeve.
I pat my hands down Shade’s body before extracting a switchblade from the inner pocket of his jacket. Once a delinquent, always a delinquent. Wordlessly, I pass the knife to Hunter, and watch as he grits his teeth before slicing a long gash down the length of his arm. Blood begins to ooze out, and I see right away that the consistency is different from other shifters’: more sluggish, and darker. Wincing a little at the pain, the vampire shifter presses his arm to Shade’s mouth while I gently urge the wolf shifter’s head up. Blood begins to trickle into his mouth, and the result is instantaneous: immediately, I see his muscles begin to relax, his breathing slowing to a less concerning speed.
“Just enough to put him under,” he murmurs. “Have to be careful. It’s potent.”
We watch in tense silence as Hunter continues to administer his blood to Shade, until at last the fallen shifter looks more like he’s sleeping peacefully than unconscious from blood loss. He pulls back, allowing Silas to take his place, and for a moment our eyes meet. I’m still too distraught to express myself coherently, but he seems to see the gratitude in my expression, and nods, smiling just a little.
Silas pulls Hunter’s shirt up, exposing the wound which is even worse than I was expecting. The bullet grazed him, but the gash is deep, and I’m pretty sure I can see his rib bone peeking out of the cut. The sight makes my stomach turn, but I grit my teeth and force myself to watch.
“Stand back,” Silas instructs us, and once we’re a safe distance away, he exhales a thin jet of fire directly onto the wound. Shade immediately tenses up once more, but doesn’t seem to be in agony the way I would have expected. There’s the smell of burning flesh, the sound of crackling flames… And then he pulls back, the fire going out all at once. What’s left on Shade’s side is an ugly scorch mark, just big enough to cover the wound, and precise enough not to have damaged the rest of his skin. He’s still pale and sweating, but he’s no longer bleeding.
Realising I was holding my breath, I slump backward, but the world starts spinning around me once more. I put my head between my knees, struggling to keep a hold on myself, when I’m interrupted by the feeling of someone brushing my hair out of my face. I turn to see Hunter looking at me, his still-bleeding arm extended in an offering.
“Hunter, please,” I pant. “I’m fine…”
“Millie.” His expression doesn’t falter. “Come on. You need it.” And then, in a voice so quiet the others can’t hear, he adds, “I owe it to you.”
I search his eyes with my own for a long moment, my mind wandering back to the image of him kissing Edith, and then nod, taking his pale arm in my hands and lowering my mouth to the cut. The blood tastes nothing like human blood —it’s almost cloyingly sweet, and stickier than it has any right to be. But the moment it passes my lips I can feel a sense of relaxation flooding through me. It’s like taking the world’s strongest Xanax, and before long I’m leaning desperately into him, drinking like my life depends on it. It takes everything I have to pull away, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and feeling better than I have since being taken by the Academy.