Chapter 5 #2
“Christ, I didn’t think a few would hurt, they can’t all go on the property. The coyotes don’t eat them fast enough. The crematorium isn’t that accessible yet.” I shoved his face to the side and stood.
Rebecca gripped his hair and held the block up to his mouth.
“Wait! Wait please . . .” he begged.
I drew a patient breath and leaned on the handle of the axe. “What is it now?”
“Killing me will get you caught.” He must have benefited from a hit of adrenaline for one last cryptic message. “He will find me, then he will find you.”
“Then I best make sure you are never found.” I jerked my head in his direction in a gesture for Rebecca to continue.
She placed the block in his mouth, making his jaw open wide enough where he couldn’t spit it out, only bite down.
Crack!
The wail that came from the detective was sharp and distinct, like the yowl of a cat.
I tossed the axe back on the table and began prepping the bottles.
“Was that necessary?” Phoebe hid her face from the others as she lowered her voice.
The three men before our detective were passed out from the pain, but very much alive. My catch was sobbing, his slacked jaw shaking with every heave of his chest.
“It was taking too long; this is already going to take us all night.” I snatched a bottle from Adeline as she handed it out. “Edith said she needed more.”
“Is this not too many for one night? It seems that someone has already noticed if rumors are spreading. Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you rose to infamy?”
“Stop talking,” I snapped. “I know what I’m doing.”
Phoebe and I fastened the gauze tightly over the opening of the bottles, securing it with twine.
The first three men were the ones taken by Rebecca, Adeline, and Edith. Phoebe stood beside me to observe, on standby in case any of them got too rowdy.
I took my own catch. With a dental tool in hand, I pulled both fangs by placing the long metal rod straight across the roof of his mouth and sliding it forward.
Each fang had a turn biting through the cloth, the amber liquid spraying into the vial before steadying to a light drip.
I pushed up every so often, like I was milking a cow, though the liquid from this animal was, without question, more valuable.
After an hour, Rebecca, Edith, and Adeline switched with another set of volunteers, working through the same process and repeating throughout the long night.
“We got at least five liters.”
“I can’t believe we got so much! We should do something like that every few weeks. I can cover most of my patients that way.” Edith watched me slip the bottles into the saddlebag, patting the horse’s hind once it was securely latched.
“We will see; it was a long night. Use it sparingly.” My eyelids were heavy as the light illuminated her from behind. “I would have brought them myself. I’m sorry I took up your work recess.”
“It’s no trouble. The apothecary isn’t far from the hospital. I don’t mind.” She smiled. “I do have to get going, though.”
“Of course, of course.” I shooed her with a lazy gesture. “Go.”
Edith nudged the horse with her heel, the heavy thuds of the draft’s hooves crushing the ice beneath as she turned around, returning down the road toward the hospital.
“Do you really think a stunt like that so often is a good idea? Is that not too much labor?” A haughty question came from the doorway of the shop.
I let out a deep, aggravated huff as I turned on my heel, my shoulder knocking against Phoebe as I reentered the apothecary.
The shop was fashioned similar to the old one, with dark wood cabinetry and more drawers than I could count, though it was warmer.
It smelled different, less old. The construction was relatively new, but it did have nicer drawers that lined the back wall behind the counter, extending up a third of the way before they became enclosed glass cabinets.
My tinctures were so beautiful displayed like that, though we did have some shelves and displays by the window.
The tinctures in the display were not real, as I didn’t want to put any real product in the sun for that long.
We just filled the bottle with colored water to attract the eyes.
Behind the counter, I took the sixth bottle of venom that was sitting on a stool and slid it into a drawer for later.
“What was that?” Phoebe asked from behind me.
“Booze,” I answered.
“Alina.”
“Leave me be, Phoebe.”
She did not speak to me, but her eyes said everything she had to. She pitied me and was ashamed at the same time. She was not one to judge; she was not the one who was made to suffer.
It had taken months for the scathing of my throat to heal from biting Luka.
While I was grateful I did not die, I did not feel any different from a corpse, aside from one of us no longer feeling pain.
While my wounds had healed, my mind still replayed that night.
I have dreams of my two creatures coming for me, plunging their fingers into my gut, and ripping out all my pieces until I was but a shell.
Warm fingers touched my neck, and my skin nearly jumped from my bones.
“Alina,” Phoebe whispered to me, her other hand resting on top of my hands that were gripping the edge of the countertop. A cold sweat left my skin clammy. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I let go of the counter and pushed past her.
“Is it what he said? The man? I didn’t mean to frighten you when I brought up—”
“Yes, I know, you are harmless of any damages. You just speak your mind. I know,” I sneered.
She didn’t argue. Not that I would have heard if she did. My boots were already thumping against the stairs, retreating back to the lab.