Page 43 of Dragon Compelled
“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.
