Curse of Night (Thorne Hill 5)

She strings the needle, puts on new gloves, and pours alcohol over the needle and a length of thread.

“Brace yourself,” she tells Lucas. “I’d say take slow, deep breaths, but that doesn’t apply to you, does it?”

“Not at the moment.”

Abby nods and looks up at me. “Don’t watch, Cal.”

My head quickly bobs up and down, and I grip Lucas’s hand tighter, brushing his hair back with my free hand. Abby pinches Lucas’s skin together, swallows hard, and then plunges the needle through his skin. I look away at the last second, counting to ten and then back again in an attempt to distract myself.

It doesn’t work very well.

Lucas’s fangs slide down, and he tenses from the pain.

“You doing okay?” Abby asks. “I can take a break.”

“Keep going,” Lucas says, and I bend my head down, feeling dizzy once more. I feel so fucking pathetic right now, and I know that my fear of losing Lucas is getting in the way of getting to the bottom of this.

Of healing him.

Of figuring out what is happening.

“Callie,” he says softly, and I look into his deep blue eyes. My heart flutters, and I fall in love with him all over again. “It’s okay.”

“I should be the one telling you that.”

He brings his other hand up and wipes away my tears. “You’re usually the one in danger.” He flashes a cheeky grin, but his smile falters as Abby pulls the thread through his skin.

I make the mistake of turning and stealing a look. The world spins around me, and I have to rest my head against Lucas’s shoulder. I’ve pulled bones from animals to use in my spells before. I’ve sliced and stabbed and cut apart demon bodies for easy burning.

But this…I can’t handle it.

“Breathe,” Lucas soothes. “Close your eyes and breathe.”

I can only nod as more tears drip from my eyes, marring his t-shirt. I mentally call out for my father again and start to feel angry when he doesn’t answer me.

I need you, Dad. Please!

“I’m done,” Abby says, snipping the thread. “You okay, Cal?”

“I don’t know,” I say, picking up my head. Stars dot my vision.

“Can you get another washcloth for me?”

“Yeah,” I say before I stand and have to work through the dizziness again. I stagger into the kitchen and open five cabinets before I find the towels. I grab a handful of washcloths and towels and rush back into the living room.

Abby takes one, dips it in the water, and wrings it out. “Get one more,” she tells me. “And then a dry one.”

I do as I’m told and watch her clean up Lucas’s skin. Everything about this looks wrong. It’s like a corpse on an exam table in an episode of CSI that’s been sewn back together after an autopsy, yet blood is still weeping from the small puncture wounds.

“Vampire blood doesn’t clot at all?” She dabs the corner of the wound.

“No,” I tell her. “It will dry eventually, but it doesn’t have the clotting agents that human blood does.”

“Okay,” she says and looks at Lucas again as she thinks. “I’m going to need you to help me clean and dry the little punctures the best we can. I have wound glue—sorry, Lucas, this is going to hurt, too—and I think that might be enough to stop the bleeding.”

“Just tell me what to do.”

She gets out the glue, breaks off the dry tip, and then puts on more gloves. We work together to wipe away the blood and get a large dot of glue over each little hole in his skin from the needle.

She gives it a minute to dry and then bandages up the wound.

“Is there anything vampires can take for pain?” she asks, gathering up the bloody towels.

“No,” Lucas tells her and starts to sit up.

“Take it easy,” Abby says, eyes going wide again. It’s only then I see the stress on her face. She’s a good doctor, used to seeing bloody injuries, but sewing up a vampire with a sewing needle and colorful thread is new territory.

“Thank you,” Lucas tells her and slowly pushes up. He looks down at his stomach with an indiscernible look on his face.

Fear?

Annoyance?

“You need blood,” I tell him and sit down on the couch. “Now.” I move my hair to one side of my neck and pull Lucas to me. He doesn’t protest, doesn’t try to tell me he’s okay.

Because he’s not, and there’s no use in him lying to me this time.

His mouth meets my neck, and he takes just half a second to find the right place to sink his fangs into my flesh. I wrap my arm around him, bringing one hand to the back of his head.

Abby stands, staring at us, and gasps when Lucas sinks his fangs into my neck. I wince from the pain of his fangs popping through my skin but then feel instant relief when I know he’s replenishing some of what he’s lost.