Page 71 of Savage Sacrifice
Blaze doesn’t waste a moment, heaving him up into his arms, unfazed by his naked state, while Lincoln turns his full attention to me. “Go with him, Midnight. I’ll be right behind you. I’m just going to get the quivering coward to round up the others,” he states, pointing over his shoulder to where Bryony’s head is peeking out from behind the bar.
I frown, but quickly wave it off as I spin to catch up with Blaze, who is charging across the field with far more speed than I can muster. My feet ache as they pound across the ground, desperate to get to them.
Pushing through the front door, I dart through the open archway that connects the living room and kitchen just as Blaze sweeps the dining table clear before laying Tatum’s limp limbs on top.
Blood seeps from his side, the glint of silver making my chest ache tighter as I skid to a stop at his side, lacing my fingers with his in a vow of support that he isn’t even aware of. A flash of white on the back of the chair beside me catches my attention, and I grab it with my free hand before shaking it to encourage the folds of material to unravel.
The small towel does little to cover his cock when I lie it over him, but it’s enough to offer him a little modesty.
Blaze scrubs at his chin as she stares intensely at the blade. Footsteps echo from behind me, and a moment later, Lincolnappears, rounding the table to stand across from me, hand nestled instinctively on Tatum’s shoulder.
He follows Blaze’s line of sight, shivering as he takes in the bite of silver that is hurting his friend. “If I never see silver hanging out of someone I care about again, it will still be too soon,” he grunts before his eyes find mine, and I know he’s referring to seeing me in a similar situation. I gulp, unable to manage a smile in any capacity with Tatum still out cold. “Pull it,” he murmurs, and Blaze doesn’t waste a moment, grabbing the handle and moving swiftly.
I cringe at the crimson staining the metal, but quickly frown when I notice a weird color sitting between the silver and the red.
“What’s that?” I breathe, pointing a shaky finger at the item in question, and Blaze lifts it higher in the air, tilting it in the light before he grunts under his breath.
“Poison. Devil’s snare,” he grunts, nostrils flaring as he glances from the weapon to the wound at Tatum’s side. “It stains your blood, weakening it with every thud of your heartbeat until your body finally gives out.”
“What? No!” I blurt, terror clawing at my own ricocheting heartbeat as I clench Tatum’s hand tighter. “You have to bring him back.Someonehas to make it stop,” I insist, and Lincoln swipes a hand down his face.
“It’s going to be okay, Polaris. He’ll just come back. We can find him through Belladora,” he promises, and I hate how casual it is for us to handle death, but despite Lincoln’s thoughts, Blaze shakes his head.
“We don’t know if that’s the case if you’re not yet wearing your blood kin mark,” he grunts, and any flickering of hope I just felt is gone again.
“Fuck,” Lincoln grunts, and I feel the tears tracking down my face again.
I run my eyes over Tatum, noting how shallowly his chest rises and falls with every breath, and it ignites the hysteria inside of me. My sobs grow louder, my need to touch him more frenzied as I try to wake him, but it’s to no avail.
“Stand with her,” Blaze grunts, presumably speaking to Lincoln, but I don’t lift my head to confirm. I do hear shuffling, though, and a moment later, there’s a hand on my arm. Lincoln’s hand.
Looking up through watery eyes, I find Blaze standing across from me now, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze as his nostrils flare and his brows knit together. His gaze flicks to mine for the briefest moment before he turns his attention to Tatum once again, only this time, he raises his forearm to his lips and sinks his teeth into his flesh a moment later.
I yelp in surprise, even though I’m not the one bleeding, and gape in a mixture of shock and horror as crimson droplets run down his arm. He doesn’t even look my way as he angles his arm so the droplets drip onto Tatum’s open wound.
My jaw hits the floor, my world frozen as I watch his every move, noting the way Tatum’s flesh slowly starts to knit together, healing.
Freaking healing.
“What the fuck?” Lincoln grunts, clearly just as surprised as I am, but Blaze continues to ignore us, staring at Tatum’s unresponsive form instead.
I follow his line of sight, and it takes me a few moments to realize that even though the wound has healed over, nothing more than a slightly pinkish tinge to his skin, his breathing seems even more shallow than before.
“It’s not working, is it?” I breathe, and Blaze shakes his head.
“Not fast enough,” he mutters, wiping a hand down his face, smearing the crimson droplets over his skin, but if he notices, he doesn’t pay it any mind.
“No, it can’t be too late,” Lincoln insists, the pain in his voice making my throat clog with more emotion as I feel the weight of the entire room crushing down on my shoulders. His grip on my arm is deadly, his panic clear.
Blaze grunts under his breath as he lowers his wrist to Tatum’s mouth. Red droplets coat his full lips as he remains unmoving, but Blaze persists, removing the last bit of space between them as he places his pierced skin against Tatum’s mouth.
My eyebrows are at my hairline, watching in slow motion as Blaze fights for Tatum, and that’s when I see it, a flutter. Just a flutter, but it’s enough.
“His breathing. Look at his breathing, it’s working!” I shout, my voice giving way as my emotions get the better of me.
Lincoln’s hold on my arm softens as I watch each breath grow deeper and deeper.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” I chant, eternally grateful to the vampire who has done nothing but work tirelessly to protect those around me that I care about.
