12. Aries
Aries
B eside me, I can feel Paige’s temper sparking.
She wants to argue with the female council member, and while I would normally agree the woman needs to be put in her place, Mag’s injuries need attention quickly, so I step between them and force Paige to meet my gaze.
“We can talk about it later,” I tell her. “After we see to his wounds.”
I refuse to let Paige lose anyone else. Even if it means letting the councilwoman feel as though she’s gained a victory.
“Fine,” Paige growls. “I have nothing else to say anyway.” She shoves past Tawny and Oliver as she leads the way across the stacks.
“Bingo, you’re in charge,” Paige calls over her shoulder, and the canine barks in response.
I follow her, still holding Mag, who’s no longer conscious. His breathing is steady, though, so I don’t panic.
“I want a full report on this incident by morning,” Tawny calls out at our backs.
No one bothers to respond to her directly, though I don’t miss Blossom’s muttered curses as she brings up the rear.
We cross the library with Blossom hovering close, constantly re-checking Mag’s vitals. Her concern is more than I expect for someone who’s always been at odds with the gargoyle, but I don’t comment. Instead, I study the amount of blood still leaking from some wound I can’t see.
Paige pushes through a door and stops in front of the first door we come to. The gnomes are already waiting, a med kit in hand.
“Thank you,” Paige tells them. “Will you help Bingo keep things under control while we patch him up?”
“Fine, but if that human hag tries to order us around, we’re going to trip her,” Ted warns.
“No tripping,” Paige warns, snagging the med kit from their miniature hands.
“What about eating her lunch?” Zed asks hopefully. “I saw something in the refrigerator with her name on it.”
“You have my blessing to eat her lunch,” Paige tells them.
They whoop in excitement as they rush down the hall and back into the library, Kitty on their heels.
The moment they’re gone, Paige motions for Blossom, who holds her tattoo up to some sort of carved symbol above the knob and then pushes the door open.
Paige goes in behind her and holds the door wide for me to enter.
The room is nothing more than a studio bedroom with a kitchenette and an attached washroom.
Despite the small space, color is splashed on every spare surface.
The walls are a wash of blues and purples that sparkle in the low lamplight.
The floor is covered by a bright pink shag rug.
Even the dishes, which are strewn on every flat furniture surface, are done in bright patterns.
“It looks like a rainbow threw up in here,” I say, momentarily stunned by the sight of it.
“Thanks.” Blossom manages to beam for a split second before her expression returns to a worried frown.
I look at Paige, who simply shakes her head. “Put him over there,” she says.
Shutting out the distracting décor, I cross to the couch and lay Mag down as gently as I can.
He groans, lids fluttering as he struggles to regain consciousness.
“Mag,” Blossom says, kneeling beside him and pressing her palm to his bloodied cheek. Her voice wobbles as she says, “Hang on, okay? You’re going to be all right.”
She looks up at me with wide, scared eyes as she whispers, “He’ll be okay, right?”
“We need to see his wounds,” is all I can tell her for now.
She scoots back to give me access, and I scan Mag’s bloodied clothing, looking for a source for all the blood. On my other side, Paige opens the med kit then crowds in beside me, also looking for the source of his injuries. The amount of blood coating everything makes it impossible to find.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Paige says quietly. “But I can’t see from where.”
Reaching down, I grip his shirt in my hands and rip it open. Blossom makes a sound of concern at the sight of the large bite marks marring Mag’s side and the large chunk of flesh missing. Whatever got ahold of him shredded not just his flesh—but muscle as well.
“There,” Paige says.
“What is it?” Blossom asks anxiously.
My stomach churns, and I can only hope whatever bit him isn’t poisonous.
My own experience with the basilisk isn’t something I’d wish on anyone, but more importantly, I have no way to treat a fast-acting fatal poison like that one.
According to Paige, Hoc had been the one with the antidote, and he’s not here now.
“That arm grabbing him from the other side of the portal,” Paige says. “Did anyone see what kind of creature it was?”
I shake my head. “No.” I’d been too focused on Mag to identify the creature.
“It was a zombie,” Mag croaks, and we all turn to stare at him. He winces before saying, “Son of a bitch got me good.” His eyes are barely open, and the moment the words are out, he falls back again, clearly exhausted with the bit of effort.
“A zombie?” Paige repeats, and I can hear the disbelief in her voice. “Are you sure?”
“What’s a zombie?” I ask. “Are they poisonous?”
Blossom turns to me with an incredulous look. “You don’t know what a zombie is?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever met one. Are they anything like orcs?” I ask.
Her brow lifts. “I don’t know. Do orcs like to eat flesh?”
I shrug. “They’ve been known to resort to it during times of famine.”
“Yes, well, it’s a delicacy of choice for zombies,” she says, “except, they usually start with the brain.”
“Ah,” I say, smirking down at Mag. “That explains why it bit you so close to your groin.”
“Now is not the time, asshole,” Mag warns, his face pale. He looks at Paige. “How bad is it?”
“If you weren’t literally made of stone, you’d be in trouble. Humans and certain supernaturals will turn into a zombie if they’re bitten. But gargoyles, wyverns, and I believe fae are immune,” Paige says.
“Unicorns, too,” Blossom says as she sniffles. “But we’re immune to all poisons and most curses.” She turns her face up to look at me. “Can you help him?” She looks back and forth between Paige and me. “Even if he can’t be turned, he can’t sustain this kind of blood loss for much longer.”
“We’re not going to let anything happen to him,” Paige says firmly. “We’ll get you patched up and stable,” she tells Mag, “And then your healing should kick in and do the rest.”
Her confidence sparks enough of my own that I find myself nodding in agreement despite my lack of knowledge of zombies. Paige returns her attention to the med kit, glancing over at me as she looks through its contents. “Put some pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding,” she says.
I hesitate, looking around for something to use, but there’s nothing but sparkly throw pillows within reach.
Peeling off my shirt, I ball it up and press it to Mag’s wound.
I don’t miss the hungry stare Paige tosses my way when she drinks in my bared chest. I do, however, manage to suppress my smile over it and concentrate on the task at hand.
A moment later, Paige nudges my hand away and goes to work, wiping the area to clean it. Mag jolts at the cold sting of the alcohol pad, his eyes flying open as he attempts to escape Paige’s efforts.
“Whoa.” Blossom and I both grab him and shove him back down.
“You’re okay,” Blossom assures him.
Their eyes meet and hold, something far beyond friendship passing between them. Paige and I exchange glances but say nothing as she works to clean and dress Mag’s wound.
“Are you going to kill me?” Mag asks Blossom, pain pinching his features.
“Slowly and painfully,” she grits out.
“It was an accident,” he tells her weakly.
“You went through a portal alone,” she accuses. “That’s no accident.”
Mag glances from her to me, and I swear the next wince he offers isn’t from the pain of Paige’s wound-tending. “I was trying to get through the stack faster,” he explains.
“We said no hunting alone,” Paige tells him sternly.
Her glare is nothing compared to Blossom’s, but Mag looks away as if he can’t handle the guilt.
“I can handle myself,” he mutters.
“Oh yeah, like you handled yourself with the zombie,” Blossom snaps. “You’re literally bleeding to death on Blossom’s couch.”
“There were a ton of fucking creatures in that place, okay?”
“All the more reason to wait for Aries,” she tells him, her voice rising.
“I’m sorry,” he tells her, surprising all of us into silence.
Paige and I exchange another look.
“Did you just apologize?” Paige asks.
“Maybe,” Mag says.
But he’s looking at Blossom whose expression has softened to something I’ve never witnessed before. “You can’t do shit like that,” she tells him, eyes full of moisture.
“I was only trying to bring Hoc back where he belongs,” Mag says.
“You were trying to be the hero,” she tells him, her voice breaking. “But you promised me you wouldn’t get hurt.”
“Blossom,” he begins.
Paige clears her throat, cutting off whatever he’s about to say. They both look over at her expectantly. “I’ve cleaned and dressed the wound,” she says. “But you really need stitches—”
“I can do it,” I say.
“You’ve done it before?” she asks.
“No,” I admit, “But I’ve had them before, and I know how—”
“Hard pass,” Mag says, shaking his head emphatically.
“It’s not a difficult procedure,” I say, but Mag is unmoved.
“Bro, no offense, but your specialty is unaliving people, so I’m not sure yours are the right hands to put my life in.”
“Relax,” Paige says. “It’s not that different from sewing. I’ll just ask the gnomes to get my kit from upstairs.”
Mag visibly pales. “Hard pass.”
I bite back a grin as I realize his problem. “Are you afraid of needles?”
He glares at me. “Shut up.”
Paige frowns, and I use every ounce of self-control not to lose it. “A man who can turn to stone and fearlessly battle any creature under the sun is afraid of a needle.”
His glare intensifies. “Bro, I owe you a throat punch for not shutting up.”
“Aries is right,” Blossom starts. “You need those stitches.”
But Mag remains unmoved, adding, “I’ll heal quickly enough on my own. I just need time.”
“Time isn’t exactly something we have,” Blossom says quietly.
For a moment, no one speaks, and I know we’re all thinking the same thing: we’ve just hit a serious wall in our search for Hoc.
One look at Paige’s expression and I know she’s taking the hit harder than the rest of us.
The urge to volunteer to do more is on the tip of my tongue, but she still has no idea we’ve all been pulling double shifts so we can hunt during the day and patrol the library at night.
I’m not sure how to juggle everything, but there has to be a way.
“I’ll keep going with the search on my own,” I say wearily.
“Aries, no,” Paige says.
“I can go into the books, shift, and fly over,” I tell her. “I won’t be within reach of any threat and can cover more ground.”
“And what if those worlds don’t have dragons already?” she counters.
I scowl, remembering Mag’s identical argument. “They’ll just have to accept we exist. Or do what some others do and simply act ignorant about it.”
“Aries, we can’t change worlds in this way,” Paige says, “it’s against the oath we took.”
“I didn’t take an oath,” I say, my temper flaring as I think about how few our options are.
“No,” she says, her voice firm. “You gave me your word that you’d build a life with me. And you can’t do that if the council kicks you out of this place and wipes your memory clean of my existence.”
I hate that she’s right, but more than that, I hate that she’s hurting and I can do nothing to fix it.
“There has to be a way to locate Hoc,” Mag says. He pushes himself up higher against the pillows, grunting with the movement. “Hoc always had a trick up his sleeve. Maybe there’s something in the head librarian’s abilities that you can use to find him.”
“I’ve tried,” Paige says on a sigh. “I haven’t found anything resembling instructions in Hoc’s notes, and I’ve scoured the books in the Alchemy section but found nothing useful.”
“What about your magic?” Blossom asks.
Paige hesitates, and her answering silence speaks volumes.
“You still don’t know how to access it,” I say quietly.
“It’s not that I can’t access it. I can feel it in me,” she admits.
“They why haven’t you—”
“What if my magic is only capable of destruction?” she blurts.
“That’s ridiculous,” Blossom tells her. “Magic is neither good nor evil. It’s a tool. Its outcome is determined by the wielder’s heart, and your heart, Paige, is the purest I’ve ever known.”
Paige looks at her with fear written plainly on her gorgeous face. “What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not,” Blossom says firmly. “But you have to decide for yourself.”
“Blossom’s right, Paige,” Mag says. “You can do this, but you have to open yourself up to it.”
“And if I can’t?” Paige whispers, eyes filled with tears that make me want to rage against something—anything—if only to take away her pain.
For a moment, no one says a word.
Mag lets out a groan that shatters the silence and honestly reminds me of the dramatics my brother, Leo, will resort to if given the opportunity.
“Now what?” Blossom demands.
“We can’t hunt anymore,” Mag says dismally. “That’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
“It’s no one’s fault,” Paige says. She pins me with a look before I can argue. “But you’re right; we can’t hunt anymore. In fact, tomorrow, first thing, I’m taking all of those books out of the basement and putting them away.”
“Whoa, you can’t—” Mag starts.
“I can and I will, especially if it means protecting you. Because that’s my job,” she tells him.
And while her grief is written clearly on her face, her determination is stronger than I’ve seen in weeks.
“And thus far, I’ve done a shitty job of it, but I’m correcting that now.
This is my library, and your safety is in my hands, so I’m pulling the plug on your hunting expeditions.
Mag, you’re staying here in Blossom’s room until you’re healed. No patrols—”
“I can at least patrol the stacks,” he protests.
“Absolutely not.” Paige’s expression is set as she stands over him. “You’ll have round-the-clock care too.”
“I’ll stay with him tonight,” Blossom says.
Again, I see an intimate look pass between them, and I know Paige doesn’t miss it, but she doesn’t mention it either.
“Good,” Paige says simply. “The gnomes and Bingo can cover patrols tonight and tomorrow. Now.” She turns to me. “Aries, promise me you won’t go into those books alone.”
“Paige.”
“Promise me.” She all but whispers it. “Aries, I can’t lose you, too.” I want to refuse. Want to insist that I will be fine, but the pain in her eyes is breathtaking, and I know I would agree to literally anything if only to bring her a moment of peace.
So, I nod, fearing what this will cost her before it’s over. “I promise.”