“Come in,” Abby says, reaching for Lucas’s arm. We step in and she closes the door behind us. With wide eyes, she looks Lucas up and down, going into ER doctor mode. “Come into the living room.” She rushes forward and grabs a big blue blanket off the couch, shaking it out and then spreading it over the cushions. “Lay down.”
I help Lucas to the couch. He sinks down, eyes fluttering as he lays back.
“I don’t understand,” Abby stammers, looking at Lucas’s abdomen. “Vampires heal.”
“I know, but he’s not!” I yell, too upset to be rational. I’m not mad at Abby, and I don’t want to wake up Penny. “Vampire blood doesn’t clot. They have to heal or they just keep bleeding. He can’t…he can’t…” I break off, crying again.
Abby blinks a few times and then nods. She straightens up and rolls up the sleeves of her gray pajama shirt.
“There’s an old-fashioned-looking doctor bag in my closet,” she starts and kneels down on the ground next to Lucas. “It has my first-aid supplies in it. Get it.”
I nod and turn, afraid of taking my eyes off Lucas. I blink and am overcome with the fear that if I leave, he’ll be nothing but a pile of ash and goo when I come back.
“Callie!” Abby shouts. “Now!”
I suck in a breath and turn, racing up the stairs. Penny’s door is shut, and I can hear the white noise machine through the closed door. “Sleep soundly tonight, little one,” I whisper and push forward to Abby’s room.
It’s dark, and I don’t know where the light switch is. Not bothering to look for it, I conjure a string of magic and toss it in the air. Usually, the energy I pull from the air is a pretty shade of blue.
But now, with all my fear and anxiety, it’s a pale greenish-yellow. I blink a few times, knowing I’m on the verge of hyperventilating, and go through the master bedroom to the closet.
Everything is neat and organized, and I find the bag easily on the top shelf. I telekinetically pull it to me and race back down the stairs. I can hear water running in the kitchen as I go back to Lucas’s side. He’s still there and opens his eyes when he sees me.
“Lucas,” I start, voice trembling. I kneel down and wrap my arms around his neck.
“It’s going to be okay,” he tells me, weakly bringing his hand to my back.
“It has to be,” I whisper back.
“Did you get the bag?” Abby asks, coming back into the room with a bowl of water and several towels.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, now go into the office at the front of the house and find my sewing box. It’s inside the bookcase.”
I feel a lump of vomit rise in my throat, knowing that Abby is going to stitch Lucas’s skin together with a sewing needle and thread, though it’s not like I expected her to have medical-grade sutures here at her house.
Fighting off the wave of dizziness that wants to crash down on me, I push off the couch and go into the office that’s down the hall from the living room, opening and closing the bookcase cabinets until I find the box.
Abby is pulling on rubber gloves when I come back. She takes the balled-up sweater off Lucas’s stomach and puts it on a towel she’s spread out on the coffee table.
“Cal, get me a damp cloth,” she says as she carefully peels back his shirt.
I wring a washcloth out in the bowl and watch Abby blot away some of the blood so she can better assess the damage.
It’s worse than I thought.
“What could make a vampire not heal?” she asks calmly, cleaning the wound the best she can. The blood just keeps coming as soon as she wipes it away.
“I don’t know,” I say and swallow hard, pushing the lump down in my throat. “Maybe an enchanted blade, but Lucas said it didn’t feel enchanted.” I go around Abby and kneel down by Lucas again, brushing his thick hair back.
“This is going to hurt,” Abby warns. “Normally, I’d numb you, but I have nothing.”
“It wouldn’t work, anyway,” Lucas grunts. “Though maybe…”
I take his hand, needing to feel his flesh against mine. I give it a squeeze, and Lucas looks into my eyes, telling me he loves me without having to say a word.
Abby unscrews the lid to a bottle of isopropyl alcohol and grabs a dry washcloth. She slowly disinfects the wound, and Lucas keeps a steady hold on my hand the whole time.
“That was fun,” Lucas forces out when Abby puts the bottle down.
“This is going to be even more fun,” Abby says almost apologetically. “Cal, put your hand right here and keep soft pressure on the wound.” She folds a towel over the wound, and I put my hand over it, gently pushing down on Lucas’s beautiful abdomen. Abby takes off her gloves and opens the sewing box, pulling out a needle and a spool of pink thread.