Chapter 19 #2
I’m pretty good in a crisis, but blood was dripping from glass shards poking out of me, and my odds to make it to the door without ending up like Wald were close to zero. Britannia was still in full cower, holding the glass out like a shield in front of her.
If Agatha had lined this room in mirrors, maybe glass would work against whatever-the-hell-this-thing was.
It was worth a shot. Searching for a weapon-worthy piece of mirror, I spotted a round anomaly among the glass fragments.
I grabbed it, but my feet began to rise off the floor.
Terror twisted my insides as I floated helplessly with the gray smoke raising me up and dragging me toward now glowing red eyes.
Struggling only resulted in the cold grip crushing harder, as if the bond was self-tightening.
I squeezed the little rock of glass in my hand as my lungs tightened, every breath rasping.
My chest hurt so much it was hard to think about breathing, but it was the only thing I could think about.
The world grayed as the maw of the smoke-thing opened, and I prayed to gods I didn’t believe in to save me.
In the second I was about to be eaten, I hit the floor.
Excruciating pain tore into my side, and I shrieked as blood gushed around the six-inch long shard of mirror that was impaled into my side.
Wald was holding the Family Album open, his face even whiter than normal. His golden gaze met mine, and his mouth opened as if he couldn’t believe I was still alive.
I felt like I was dying .
Wald flew over to me, and Britannia ripped the book from Wald’s hands as he passed her. My hands were slick with my own blood, and I was near to passing out. I didn’t want to look down. It hurt like hell, and I knew it was going to be ugly.
“Get me to the ER,” I moaned as Wald knelt beside me and attempted to pull my hand away.
“I’m so sorry,” Wald said as the shard moved.
I squealed. “Don’t touch me. I’m going to die. It hurts so much.” The room turned glassy and began to spin.
“You are not going to die. I’ve got you.” Wald picked me up with one hand and with the other brushed the glass off the couch. He laid me down on my good side and curled me toward him.
“There’s no other way. This is going to hurt, but I will take care of you. I promise.”
I sank into his musky scent as his fingers fumbled at my back, undoing the corselette strings. His scent soothed me as he gently peeled the black satin away from my skin.
“This was not what I had in mind for the first undressing…” he said breathily.
When I choked out a laugh, he pushed me back onto my side fast enough I didn’t get to breathe out a No . With a quick brutal movement, he yanked out the glass. I guess. I actually have no idea because I was screaming my fucking lungs out at the time.
With my crushed chest on fire, the yelling hurt almost as much as the glass extraction. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the mess in my side. “Call an ambulance,” I managed to squeak out and shot a glance at his face through tear-soaked and blood-matted hair.
His tongue was hanging out, in all its inches-long pink glory. He licked my wound and then licked it again. The strokes long and languorous. Every lap tingled through me on counterpoint to the agony. Waves on a beach.
It might have been erotic if I hadn’t been in so much goddamned pain.
Well no, it wouldn’t have—oh, you know what I mean.
My blood coated his tongue red, but my side hurt less.
He grabbed his jacket and pulled out a green bandage made of leafy stuff, then stuck it on the wound.
Smoothing the green down and re-lacing the corset strings loosely, he rolled me back over.
“That should work. I think there’s no internal damage,” he panted.
My fingers tentatively touched the bandaged spot on my side.
It was tender but not nearly as bad as I’d expected.
I couldn’t really see it easily, but the gaping hole was covered with the sticky green thing.
I glanced over where Britannia had been, but she was gone.
“Where’s Britannia?” I asked, regretting it as I sucked in a breath that hurt like hell. Realizing the glass ball was still in my hand, I opened it and held it out to Wald, marveling at the stupidity of showing him a clear marble like you get from one of those craft stores to arrange flowers.
“Where did you get that?” Wald breathed, his pupils dilating as he took the orb from me.
“Uh, it was under the couch?”
He looked at me wide-eyed. “It’s my mother’s.”
Ah ha, a question I could answer. “Victoria gave me the box, this must have been inside.”
“What I’m more curious about is how you are holding it,” he asked, his yellow eyes locked on mine. I sucked in a breath and groaned, my hand flying to my injured side.
“We need to get you out of here. Can you walk?” he asked, picking his shirt off the dead Agatha.
I averted my eyes as he put it on. My clothing was shredded and blood soaked.
With a loud exhale, I attempted to sit up and failed.
Blinding pain resulted in an otherworldly screech.
I lay back panting in short breaths to avoid tweaking my side again.
“You need to be quiet. I’ll carry you,” he said, not giving me a choice.
He scooped me up like I was two pounds, and I’m not two pounds.
I’m a healthy one seventy-five if you ask me, one eighty-five if you weigh me.
Why do I lie? Because it’s none of your fricking business how much I weigh.
I chuckled at the thought, and it turned into a gasp.
The pain in my chest was brutal for anything more than normal breathing.
Somehow, we made it to the door without me passing out.
The door banged under a fist. “Police. Open Up.”
Wald stopped and then retreated back into the hall that led to the time-is-dead room. What was he thinking? We could hang out there until the police left? The thoughts blurred as he moved with a speed I couldn’t track. He turned left and walked into a bedroom I hadn’t seen.
“I have to put you down,” he said, laying me on a bed.
He pulled out a phone as I gripped the night table to keep the room from spinning.
It didn’t work. The room smelled of stale incense and red wine.
The coverlet on the bed was leopard, and the curtains on the window Wald was opening were shocking pink with feathers on the edges.
I was going to guess Agatha’s bedroom. The walls were covered in mirrors too but in front were sheer panels of pink silk.
He had the window open and had re-pocketed the phone.
“Come here,” he said, sticking a leg over the window sill so he could straddle the frame.
I half fell against the wall choking back a scream as I staggered toward him. The room was sparkly, dimmer, and glassier than it should be. He already had both feet outside the window by the time I got there. Thumps and shouts from the front room said the police were likely battering down the door.
“Do you have the marble?” he asked, and I held it out to him. He turned my palm and then pressed my hand against my side where blood was weeping through the bandage. The clear marble turned red.
I whimpered from the ick and the throbbing pain.
Wald folded my fingers over the marble. “Don’t let go of this or me. Can you trust me?”
I paused, considering in a blur of mental images all the reasons I probably could trust him, then nodded.
He pulled me to the window. “You okay with me licking you?” His gaze flicked to the door.
“Yeah, I’m okay with it.”
His tongue darted out like a snake strike, and before I could focus, my cheek was wet.
“I got you,” he said as he slid an arm around my waist, scooped me up like I was a kitten, then jumped out the window.