Page 60 of The Blood Witch
An older blond man crouches down next to me and tries to lift Elon from my arms. I tighten my hold on him and choke out a pitiful growl of objection. Rogan’s face crumbles with grief, but I watch as he shoves it away and fixes his intense gaze back on mine.
“It’s okay, you did so good, Lennox, let them take care of him now,” he encourages, and the lie that slips right out of his mouth makes my heart ache.
I didn’t do good. I failed him.
I shake my head, rejecting his praise, and try to breathe through the sorrow that slams into me. “I tried to make her take me first. I tried to stop her,” I tell him so he’ll know how sorry I am, how hard I tried to keep this from happening.
Heartbreak fills Rogan’s eyes, but he doesn’t look at Elon as the trio of Soul Witches reach for him again. His eyes stay steadily fixed on mine, despite the pain I know he’s in from losing his brother.
“I know you did,” he concedes, his eyes warm and understanding. “He’s safe now, they’re going to take him and take care of him, and we need to take care of you,” he urges softly, as though I’m a wounded wild animal that needs to be soothed and coddled. I look down at my chest, at the damage ravaging my left side and the blood that’s now slowly trickling out of me.
Dammit, Iamsome wounded wild animal.
I pull in a shuddering wet breath and, with a nod, release my hold on Elon. In a flash, he’s pulled from my arms, and even though I said it was okay, a whimper of objection spills out of me as they pull him about ten feet away from me and lay him down and start checking him over.
My attention is pulled away from what they’re doing when a pair of strong arms wrap around me and pull me protectively against a warm, hard chest.
A chest I’d know anywhere.
Rogan.
I wait for the pain of being jostled to hit me, but surprisingly, it doesn’t, so I tilt my head back and look up into my favorite color of green eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him once again, but he shushes me and shakes his head like he doesn’t want to hear it. I close my eyes and lean into him, finally safe from the horrors of this place.
“Open your eyes, Lennox, come on, stay with me, open your eyes!” he barks, and a small smile pulls at the corners of my lips.
“Bossy,” I accuse playfully, and then a fit of bone-breaking coughs tear through me and try to drown me in my own blood.
Hands are suddenly on me, and I look at Rogan, scared that I’m being taken away. “I’m here. I have you,” he reassures me, pressing his lips to my forehead as I feel the telltale rush of magic as it’s shoved through me. I wait to feel the warmth that should accompany it, sense my broken parts as they knit together and heal, but none of that happens.
Panic fills Rogan’s eyes as people bark orders all around me and more magic is shoved into my body, but I quickly realize it’s not working. Someone shouts about aspelled gunand then orders a Contegomancer to come try and lift whatever shield is on me so that the Soul Witch’s magic can work.
I close my eyes at their revelation. Of course the gun was spelled—it was Jamie’s goal in life to fuck everything up beyond repair, why should I be any different?
“What are you saying? You can’t help her? You’re the fucking Order’s Animamancers and you can’t heal her?” Rogan snarls, and the fear in it makes my heart hurt. “Do something!” he cries out again, and then I feel him pull me closer as his deep, rich voice begs me to hold on.
“We have Contegomancers on their way, the two that were with us were both killed, Replacements are coming as fast as they can. With the nearby ley line, they’ll be here in minutes,” the Major assures Rogan, but we all know I probably don’t have that long.
I force my lids to open, but it feels like it takes everything I have in me to make it happen. Devastated moss-green eyes stare into mine.
I try to talk, to tell him that it’s okay, that I care about him and that I’m so incredibly sorry that all of this is happening, but there’s too much blood in my throat and in my lungs, and I can’t get the words out.
“Hold on, Lennox, they’re bringing help. They’ll figure out how to fix this,” he reassures me, but it’s not me who desperately wants to believe what he’s saying. I knew the deal the moment my magic faltered. “Stay with me,” he pleads.
I give him the most reassuring smile I can muster, nodding because this is exactly where I want to be. “You’re going to be okay,” he whispers confidently to me, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m here, and you’re going to be okay.”
He scoops something from the ground and pushes it back inside of me while pressing his forehead against mine in that way that always made me feel all warm and gooey inside. I look down to see what he’s doing and watch him cup blood from the ground and push it back into my chest, the desperate movement steady as he chants over and over again that I’m okay, that I’m going to be just fine.
I reach up and stop his hand, and our gazes meet, the undeniable truth spilling out of both of our eyes.
I’m dying.
Rogan shakes his head as though it will knock reality far from both of us, and I reach up and cup his cheek until he gives me his stunning green eyes again. A brokenhearted stare meets mine, tears spilling down his face as he takes me in. His lips gently press against mine, and I feel the love and the hope and the loss in his tender kiss.
I try to hold on to it, to use it to fuel the fight I know I have in me somewhere, but the cold is starting to seep into my bones, and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.
“Elon,” Rogan pleads, and I ache for his loss I hear in his voice. “Elon, help me,” he begs randomly, his strong chest shaking from the sobs spilling out of him.
