Blood Craft: The Shadow Sorceress Book Two

by Sheehan, Bilinda

  He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the tent; the front of his white shirt was destroyed, the edges of it frayed, his blood slowly soaking into it causing it to stick to him.

  “Graham, can you hear me?” I asked, pressing my fingers to his neck, to the place where I knew his pulse should have been. My hands shook and I suddenly wasn’t sure if I was feeling the thready beat of his heart or if my own tremors were tricking me.

  Dropping my head to one side, I listened for any signs of breathing. His chest wasn’t rising and falling the way it should have been and there was no sound leaving his mouth.

  “Christ, Graham, you can’t do this to me, you can’t leave me,” I said, pressing my hands to his bloodied shirt as I began chest compressions. “Call an ambulance,” I said, barking my order in Dex’s general direction.

  “Is he dead?” he asked.

  “Just call an ambulance and stop wasting goddamned time!” I said, grunting with the effort of forcing Graham’s heart to pump blood through his body.

  Dex dragged out his cell phone and I was only vaguely aware of him talking into it as I continued to work on Graham.

  There was no reaction from him. I so desperately wanted him to sit up and give me his indulgent fatherly smile that he had perfected so well, but I thrust down on his chest repeatedly with nothing but the laboured sound of my own breathing for company.

  The snap of one of his ribs breaking broke my concentration and bile climbed the back of my throat. It was normal. I needed to remember that. Broken ribs were something he could recover from, brain damage due to his heart no longer pumping blood around his body, well, that wasn’t something he could come back from.

  “One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five.” I counted it out loud, my voice breathy as my arms began to feel like lead weights were attached to them.

  I could feel my shoulders beginning to lock up, my own breathing becoming shallow as sparks of light swam in my vision.

  “Let me help, Amber,” Dex said, his voice quiet and calm.

  I shook my head, but even that was too much effort and I took one look down at Graham’s open, staring eyes and moved aside. If I screwed up and faltered, if my body gave out before the EMTs arrived, then I would fail him. All the good intentions in the world of wanting to save him didn’t count for jack shit if I couldn’t actually do it.

  Dex stepped in seamlessly, instantly picking up where I’d left off, his rhythm fast and steady as he pumped Graham’s chest. Shuffling a little closer to Graham, I leaned in over him and pressed my mouth to his ear.

  “You son of a bitch, you can’t leave me now, you can’t leave me to face these bastards alone. You come back to me, or so help me, I will follow you into death and drag your ass back if I have to.”

  Sweat had beaded across Dex’s brow and I moved back to take his position from him, our switch out seamless, both of us working to keep Graham alive.

  My arms tired much faster the second time around, but the EMTs burst in through the opening to the tent just as my shoulders were beginning to lock up. I shuffled aside to let them in to work on him, answering their questions on autopilot as I stared at his unmoving face.

  They moved fast, much faster than I’d expected, but then, this wasn’t something I was particularly used to. I’d been trained in CPR, but I’d never had to use it before. They stripped his shirt away, calling numbers and stats to one another as they fitted the shock pads to his chest.

  “No pulse,” one of the paramedics said.

  CPR wasn’t like it was in the movies; it wouldn’t restart his heart, only an electric current could ensure that. Something about the rhythms of the heart being an electric current; all chest compressions could do was keep his blood pumping, keep his vital organs supplied with the circulation they needed to survive.

  “CLEAR!”

  That one word set my body to trembling and I pressed my bloodied hand to my face in order to keep my emotions in check. I couldn’t break down now, not now, not yet.

  Graham jolted up from the ground, his body hopping as the current passed through him.

  Silence followed. My own heart come to a shuddering halt.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  “We’ve got a rhythm,” the female paramedic said, instantly settling the oxygen mask over Graham’s face as she started bagging him.

  Pushing up onto my feet, I followed them as they wheeled Graham outside, my body moving sluggishly as I tried to keep up with their unrelenting pace.

  “Amber, wait!” Dex wrapped his hand around my arm jolting me to a halt.

  Without hesitating, I swung around to face him, my hand balling into a fist as I brought my arm up. The satisfying thud of my fist connecting with his jaw filled my ears. He sprawled back from me, his hand automatically going to his face, his fingers brushing away the blood welling in the cut on his lip.

  “What was that for, I helped you….”

  “If you’d let me do my job in the first place, none of this would be happening. Instead, you let your ego get the better of you and now a man who is twice the man you are, twice the detective you will ever be, is fighting for his life….”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I was told it was human, I swear I didn’t know.”

  I didn’t wait for him to continue spewing his excuses; I didn’t want to hear them. If Graham died…. I cut my own thoughts off. He would be fine, he had to be fine, there simply wasn’t another way around it. I believed in him, and if anyone had the ability to go to toe to toe with Death and come out the other side unscathed, it was Graham.

  Picking up my pace, I jogged after the ambulance crew, reaching them as they finished loading Graham inside.

  “Are you coming with us?” the female paramedic asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, climbing up next to her and strapping myself into one of the seats in the back of the ambulance. My heart rate had started to race and I stared down at the bruising that was starting to bloom across my knuckles.

  Graham would kick my ass if he knew what I’d done. And as the first tear rolled down my cheek, I lifted my gaze to him.

  When he was better, he could kick my ass all he wanted. In fact, I’d welcome it.

  Chapter 7

  Sitting in the waiting room, I stared at the board covered in little leaflets. The usual what to do when in crisis, or how to handle illness in a loved one.

  I hated hospitals.

  The smell of disinfectant invaded all of my pores, but that wasn’t what bothered me most. It was the overwhelming stench of death. Hospitals were filled with the scent of it. It was never about healing and recovery, they were the place people came to die, the broken and ill whose lives were coming to a close, usually far sooner than their loved ones would like.

  Leaning forward, I placed my elbows on my knees and buried my face in my hands. I was beginning to lose it; I’d lost count of the number of hours I’d sat here waiting for some sort of news on Graham, and if I didn’t get any soon, I was going to flip out. Or, at least, that was what I promised myself. It had been the only thought to keep me going over the agonising wait.

  “Where is he?” A female voice cut through my solitary thoughts and I lifted my head, my gaze settling on a middle aged woman, her bottle-blonde hair perfectly coiffed around her face.

  She strode forward and the animosity that rolled from her made me recoil.

  “You are?” I asked, folding my arms defensively across my chest. I could still feel the blood on my hands; it was dried into my nail beds and getting it out was going to be an ordeal. But none of it mattered. This was my fault and there was a part of me that believed I deserved to wear Graham’s blood on my hands.

  “I’m his wife. They told me he’d been brought in here….” She paused and looked me over a little more carefully. “Oh, god, is that his blood?” Her voice went up several octaves and I watched her waver on her feet.

  A tall, lean man stepped into the room and
grabbed her arm, swinging her around so she could bury her face in his shoulder.

  “She’s covered in his blood, Henry…. Please, she has to leave, I can’t have someone like that hanging around…. She’s a bad omen.” The woman’s voice was marred by hysteria, but I could still make out her words.

  The urge to hop up from the plastic seat my ass had practically moulded onto and grab her by her blonde bobble head washed over me. Resisting, I crossed my legs and leaned back against the white, sterile wall the plastic seat I was perched on was pressed against.

  “I’m Graham’s colleague. I was there when the incident occurred. I’m covered in his blood because I was doing CPR on him….” My voice was clipped and authoritarian, and I hated it.

  Yet, I couldn’t help it as the woman continued to sob into Henry’s shoulder. He shot me a nasty look and in a nasally voice said, “Can you please leave? Can’t you see how much you’re upsetting her?”

  Sucking in a deep breath, I stood and strode out into the hall, anger bubbling in my veins as I paced back and forth. I certainly didn’t remember Graham mentioning a wife in the picture and his apartment had that bachelor feel to it. The impression I’d gotten was that he was separated from his wife, probably after Jessica’s disappearance. So to have her now rush in here and throw me out after everything….

  I drank down another deep breath and let it out slowly. What was the point in getting wound up about something as petty as that? She was his wife, that was all there was to it. I needed to get over myself. He might have been my partner, but she’d known him longer and, separated or not, they had a kid together. That had to count for something.

  The doctor who had taken over Graham’s case from the minute he’d arrived in the hospital appeared around the corner of the nurse’s station, his expression grim as he caught sight of me and I swallowed hard.

  “You came in with Graham Lance? Who are you?” he asked, moving down the hall towards me.

  “I’m his partner, we both work for the Elite.” I got the words out before the look on his face caused my throat to close over.

  There was a pity in his eyes that could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t something I wanted to hear.

  I opened my lips to speak to him, but my mouth was so dry my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth and the words refused to form. Instead, I was left to nod at him like one of those nodding dogs people enjoyed putting on the dashboards of their cars as he spoke at me.

  “His injuries are serious, but he seems to be stable for now. We operated in an attempt to stop the internal bleeding he came in with but while on the table, he suffered a cardiac arrest. It was a close thing, but he’s strong.”

  The hallway lurched around me and I slammed my hand into the wall in an attempt to steady myself. There was way too much white, and it only served to intensify the tilting inside my head. Steady, Amber.

  “Are you all right? Is there someone here with you?”

  I shook my head and did my best to unstick my tongue. “Can I see him?”

  He paused and seemed to mull it over before finally nodding.

  “Fine, but if anyone asks, you’re family,” he said, and still I could see the pity in his eyes. Obviously I looked like a big enough mess that he was willing to risk getting disciplined by letting me in.

  “His wife is here…” I said, and the doctor’s expression hardened a little.

  “Where?” I could practically feel his disapproval rolling off him. Whatever small amount of pity I’d managed to elicit in him was now gone.

  He pushed past me and disappeared into the waiting room. He wasn’t happy with me, but he also hadn’t said I couldn’t go in and see Graham. Making my way unsteadily down the hall, I paused at the nurse’s desk.

  “I’m here to see Graham Lance, I was told I could have a few minutes with him.”

  The nurse eyed me suspiciously, but whether it was the fact that I was still covered in Graham’s blood, or if I just looked that desperate, she nodded and pushed up from her seat behind the desk. Gesturing for me to follow her, she started down the corridor and paused outside a glass door. The blinds were shut and it wasn’t until she pushed open the door that I could hear the mechanical sound of the ventilator.

  “Julie, someone to see Mr Lance,” the nurse said before allowing me to slide in through the small gap in the door.

  My heart stuttered in my chest as my senses were assaulted. The sterile smell in the room, the noise of the machines as they mechanically pushed air into Graham’s lungs, the flashing on the monitors, numbers and bleeps as lights blinked up and down—and right in the middle of it all, Graham lay on his back, perfectly still. The machine next to him whooshed and his chest rose and then fell once more.

  The nurse standing inside the door spoke to me, but she might as well have been calling to me from the other side of the world. Crossing the floor, I paused next to Graham’s bed, staring down at him, a hint of a white bandage visible above the neckline of the hospital gown he wore.

  “Christ, Graham, I’m so sorry….” My words felt woefully inadequate, and they were. What was the point in being sorry now that the damage was done? If I’d been faster, better at my job, then maybe I’d have found the evidence we needed to get Dex to hand the case back to us. But I hadn’t. I’d screwed up and now Graham was paying the price.

  The demon mark on my shoulder began to burn and I gritted my teeth against the pain. It was a price I should have paid. If Jon wasn’t gunning for me then he wouldn’t have sent Graham half a case file, he wouldn’t have been trying so hard to destroy me … Graham wouldn’t have been his collateral damage.

  Gripping the edge of the bed, I squeezed the metal bars until my knuckles went white. Jon would pay for this. And whatever it was that had attacked Graham, I would make it wish it had never entered this world.

  “Excuse me, Mr Lance’s wife says you’re not family….” The nurse called Julie tapped my shoulder drawing my attention.

  “I’m his partner, this is all my fault,” I said.

  “Well, you can’t be in here unless you’re family,” she said again. This time her voice was a little firmer.

  Leaning down next to the bed, I ignored the sound of the machinery as it continued to keep Graham alive. “I meant what I said, Graham. If you leave me, I will follow you into death. This is not your time, so hurry up and get your ass better,” I said, before straightening up and turning from the bed.

  The nurse shot me a dirty look as I pulled open the door and came face to face with Graham’s wife. She took one look at me and instantly went into the hysterics; her legs buckled beneath her, and I caught her in my arms as she dropped like a stone towards the floor.

  Of course, holding onto her as she flailed around like a dying fish, her hands catching the side of my face, her elbow jabbing into my ribcage hard enough to drive the air from my lungs as she wailed like a banshee wasn’t exactly easy.

  “What are you doing? Let her go immediately!” The man she’d called Henry commanded, hurrying down the floor towards me, the doctor I’d spoken to bringing up the rear.

  Her hand caught me again, her nails tearing down the side of my face the same way a cat might. “Henry, she killed him—oh God, I told you she was a….” I let her go, dumping her onto the floor as her wails cut off as suddenly as they’d begun.

  I felt sorry for her; she knew Graham better than I did, so she had to care for him, but I couldn’t understand her reaction. Her sudden and pronounced hatred of me didn’t make any sense. Although, how could I blame her? If I was in her shoes, I’d blame me too. Didn’t I already feel responsible for what was going on?

  Leaving her in the capable and comforting grip of her Henry, I turned and strode down the hall, leaving her to pick her hysterical screaming up once more. At least she was in the right place; if she kept up her hysterics they’d sedate her, and at least then, she might feel relief.

  Chapter 8

  Escaping out through the front doors of the hospi
tal, I paused to drink in the cool evening air. The sound of running feet met my ears before I even had the chance to fully take in my surroundings.

  “Amber, can you tell us what condition Detective Lance is in?”

  “Amber, what really happened down at the River Gardens?”

  “Miss Morgan, is it true that the Elite could have prevented this if the mind of Detective Lance hadn’t been so preoccupied with the upcoming trial of his daughter, Jessica?”

  “Miss Morgan, should the people of King City be worried by what escaped from the crime scene this morning?”

  Their questions came at me in a barrage of rapid fire, leaving me with no time to gather my thoughts, never mind actually contemplate what they were asking me.

  I stared at them, my mind grinding to a dead halt. What was I supposed to say? I didn’t have the answers to their questions, and even if I did, my position with the Elite forbade me from sharing information with them that wasn’t first approved by my superiors.

  Pushing out through the crowd of reporters, I kept moving despite the fact that they kept on following me, their questions a never-ending whirlwind of pain and confusion.

  “Amber!” A familiar voice called out to me and I lifted my gaze from the ground, where I’d firmly planted it in an attempt to not make eye contact with the paparazzi vultures that surrounded me.

  Dex stood on the other side of the road, waving to me from the driver’s side of his black car. Part of me wanted to ignore him, the same part of me that had wanted to kill him earlier in the day for the situation he’d allowed to happen.

  The more sensible side of me won out and I broke free of the crowd of reporters, sprinting across the busy street to where Dex already had the engine running. Sliding into the passenger seat, I slammed the door behind and watched the reporters huff and puff on the other side of the road.

  Dex pulled away in a squeal of tires, car horns blaring as he cut up other oncoming traffic with his risky driving manoeuvres. I fastened my seat belt and stared out the window next to me as we drove in silence for several blocks. The quiet hum of the radio was comforting and I found my eyelids growing heavy as we wound through the streets of King City’s downtown area.