Page 75 of Brody
Then his eyes rolled back, and he began to crumple to the ground.
“Brody!”I lunged forward as his legs buckled, barely managing to slow his descent.His body hit the forest floor with a sickening thud, his head narrowly missing a jagged rock.
I shrugged off my backpack, letting it thump to the ground beside us.The carefully organized sample containers I’d packed that morning seemed laughably insignificant now.My collection kit could wait.Brody couldn’t.
“Brody!Brody, stay with me.”I dropped to my knees beside him, medical training overriding panic.His skin burned with fever.The poison was racing through him faster than it should, too fast.With horror, I realized his pre-feral condition had weakened his defenses, leaving him vulnerable to the venom’s attack.
“Can you hear me?”I asked, tapping his face.His eyes fluttered open, gold bleeding into gray as his wolf fought against the deadly poison.
“You’re beautiful when you’re worried,” he slurred, attempting to focus on my face.
“Save the charm,” I snapped, fear making my voice harsh.“We need to get you to shelter.The nearest Fae dwelling is half a mile back.Can you walk if I help you?”
He nodded weakly, though I wasn’t convinced he fully understood.With strength born of desperation, I hauled him to his feet, ducking under his arm to support his weight.He was heavy, all muscle and male solidity, but adrenaline and terror gave me the strength I needed.
I grabbed my backpack with my free hand and considered his, lying where it had fallen when he collapsed.The extra weight would slow us down, but we might need the supplies inside.
“Your pack,” I said.“Can you hold it?”
Brody’s only response was a grunt of pain as another spasm racked his body.Decision made, I left his pack where it lay.We could retrieve it later, if there was a later.
“Stay conscious,” I ordered as we began our agonizing journey back down the path.“Talk to me.”
“Bossy,” he murmured, his head lolling against mine.“Like that.”
Under different circumstances, I might have smiled.Now I just needed him to keep talking, keep fighting the venom’s paralytic effects.
“Tell me about the Brewstillery,” I said, adjusting his weight as we navigated a particularly steep section of trail.My backpack banged awkwardly against my hip, the strap cutting into my shoulder, but I couldn’t spare the focus to fix it.“How did you start it?”
He stumbled, nearly taking us both down.I braced against his weight, muscles screaming in protest.
“Una’s recipes,” he managed, each word seeming to cost him.“Her legacy.I wanted to… honor her.”
His skin grew hotter against mine with each passing minute, the fever spiking as his body fought the venom.Worse, I could feel the tremors intensifying, no longer just in his left hand but throughout his body, muscle spasms that betrayed the venom’s advance toward his central nervous system.
It took us nearly an hour to cover ground that had taken twenty minutes earlier.By the time the Fae dwelling came into view, Brody was barely conscious, his weight dragging heavily against me.His breathing had grown labored, punctuated by involuntary groans that tore at something deep in my chest.
I half dragged, half carried him through the doorway, his increasingly dead weight making each step a struggle.My backpack slid from my shoulder, landing with a thud on the wooden floor.I left it where it fell, every ounce of my strength focused on getting Brody to the healing waters.
“Stay with me,” I commanded, maneuvering him toward the stone pool where the COL water flowed.“We’re almost there.”
His eyes, when they briefly focused on mine, were clouded with pain, gold morphing into gray as his wolf fought the venom.“Bad?”he managed through clenched teeth.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I lied, propping him against the pool’s edge.
I crouched to unlace his hiking boots, my fingers fumbling with the blood-soaked laces.The venom’s sickly glow had spread down his left side, visible even through his torn clothing.The boots finally came free, followed by his socks, revealing feet unmarked by the venom, small mercies.
I needed to get him into the healing waters immediately, but his clothes would have to come off first.The Swarmer’s claws had ripped through his shirt, leaving it hanging in tatters that were already fusing with the wound.Every second counted, but removing the fabric carelessly could tear the wounds further, accelerating the venom’s spread.
My gaze landed on the small bottles arranged at the edge of the bathing pool, the Fae bathing essences we’d used just last night.The memory of their warming tingle against my skin gave me an idea.
“Hold on,” I said, reaching for one of the bottles.I uncorked it.The oil inside shimmered with faint blue luminescence, seemingly responding to the proximity of the Swarmer venom with increased brightness.
I poured a liberal amount over the places where fabric had stuck to his wounds.The oil immediately began to foam, creating a barrier between cloth and damaged tissue.Wherever it touched the venom, it hissed and sizzled, the acrid smell making my eyes water.
“This will help separate the fabric,” I explained, my voice steadier than I felt.With careful movements, I eased the shirt away from his wounds, the oil’s properties allowing the cloth to slide free without reopening the gashes.
What I revealed sent ice through my veins despite the summer heat.The Swarmer’s claws had left six deep parallel gashes across his torso, but it wasn’t the wounds themselves that made bile rise in my throat.It was what was happening beneath his skin.The venom moved like a living thing, spreading in glowing tendrils that branched through his veins in a twisted, poisonous web.Where it traveled, his skin darkened to an unnatural purple-black, like severe bruising but worse, pulsing, alive, purposeful.
