Page 44 of Dragon Compelled
“Unicorns, too,” Blossom says as she sniffles. “But we’re immune to all poisons and most curses.” She turns her face up to look at me. “Can you help him?” She looks back and forth between Paige and me. “Even if he can’t be turned, he can’t sustain this kind of blood loss for much longer.”
“We’re not going to let anything happen to him,” Paige says firmly. “We’ll get you patched up and stable,” she tells Mag, “And then your healing should kick in and do the rest.”
Her confidence sparks enough of my own that I find myself nodding in agreement despite my lack of knowledge of zombies. Paige returns her attention to the med kit, glancing over at me as she looks through its contents. “Put some pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding,” she says.
I hesitate, looking around for something to use, but there’s nothing but sparkly throw pillows within reach. Peeling off my shirt, I ball it up and press it to Mag’s wound. I don’t miss the hungry stare Paige tosses my way when she drinks in my bared chest. I do, however, manage to suppress my smile over it and concentrate on the task at hand.
A moment later, Paige nudges my hand away and goes to work, wiping the area to clean it. Mag jolts at the cold sting of the alcohol pad, his eyes flying open as he attempts to escape Paige’s efforts.
“Whoa.” Blossom and I both grab him and shove him back down.
“You’re okay,” Blossom assures him.
Their eyes meet and hold, something far beyond friendship passing between them. Paige and I exchange glances but say nothing as she works to clean and dress Mag’s wound.
“Are you going to kill me?” Mag asks Blossom, pain pinching his features.
“Slowly and painfully,” she grits out.
“It was an accident,” he tells her weakly.
“You went through a portal alone,” she accuses. “That’s no accident.”
Mag glances from her to me, and I swear the next wince he offers isn’t from the pain of Paige’s wound-tending. “I was trying to get through the stack faster,” he explains.
“We said no hunting alone,” Paige tells him sternly.
Her glare is nothing compared to Blossom’s, but Mag looks away as if he can’t handle the guilt.
“I can handle myself,” he mutters.
“Oh yeah, like you handled yourself with the zombie,” Blossom snaps. “You’re literally bleeding to death on Blossom’s couch.”
“There were a ton of fucking creatures in that place, okay?”
“All the more reason to wait for Aries,” she tells him, her voice rising.
“I’m sorry,” he tells her, surprising all of us into silence.
Paige and I exchange another look.
“Did you just apologize?” Paige asks.
“Maybe,” Mag says.
But he’s looking at Blossom whose expression has softened to something I’ve never witnessed before. “You can’t do shit like that,” she tells him, eyes full of moisture.
“I was only trying to bring Hoc back where he belongs,” Mag says.
“You were trying to be the hero,” she tells him, her voice breaking. “But you promised me you wouldn’t get hurt.”
“Blossom,” he begins.
Paige clears her throat, cutting off whatever he’s about to say. They both look over at her expectantly. “I’ve cleaned and dressed the wound,” she says. “But you really need stitches—”
“I can do it,” I say.
“You’ve done it before?” she asks.
