“Maddox!” I dove to his side, immediately gripping his jacket and pulling it open.
His entire shirt was soaked in blood. The fabric was ripped, hidden by his jacket. He didn’t respond when I said his name or patted his face. I pulled his shirt, and the buttons flew like confetti. His skin was marred with pinprick bite marks. Like the ones on my autopsy report.
I didn’t have time to think about that.
I pressed my closed fists against the wound as it seeped blood, wondering how I didn’t notice it before. All I could smell was copper. With each sluggish pump of his heart, a gurgle of blood surfaced and ran down the ridges of his stomach.
“Porco cane! Maddox!” I snarled. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He groaned and reached up to slap my hands away.
I batted his hands away, and it became a weird kind of slap-fight as I fought to put pressure on his wound.
The door behind us clicked as someone turned the doorknob.
The handle of Maddox’s knife sat in the inner pocket of his jacket. The fabric was tacky with blood. I gripped the flick knife, whirling to face the door. My heartbeat roared in my ears, and the same adrenaline that came from the Purger attack at the Bellagio returned with full force.
I brandished the flick knife, but it didn’t turn into a scythe as I wanted it to.
The door swung open, revealing Fletcher, Jamal, and Rome. Each man froze as their gaze snapped to the knife in my hand as I shook it like an almost-empty ketchup bottle.
Jamal’s face broke into a wide grin that crinkled his dark eyes. “Having some trouble there, love?”
Fletcher laughed, throwing his head back. His Pikachu hoody was back, and the ears bounced with the force of the movement.
I quickly remembered why I was so on edge. “Maddox is hurt,” I stepped out of the way to reveal the mountain of a man on the floor.
Rome sprung into action first, reaching into his pocket and fishing out his phone. He turned on the flashlight and pointed it at the wound as he bent down at Maddox’s side. “Jamal. Spoon... Kitchen. Now.Davai!” His Russian accent came out thickly, and while I didn’t know the last word, I got the impression it meant ‘hurry the fuck up!’
I tripped over myself as I moved out of the way, and the men filtered into the room like a well-oiled machine. Fletcher grabbed a cushion from the ugly couch and slid it under Maddox’s head. Jamal rushed to the kitchen, and Rome knelt by his side and ripped his shirt clean in two—exposing the bite mark to the air.
The bleeding had slowed, but not by much.
“That’s a purger bite,” I told them, remembering what Maddox had said about Purgers being the exception. “Is he going to die?”
No one answered me.
I should have been putting pressure on the wound, and instead, I had been brandishing a small knife like Gandalf against the Balrog.
Jamal returned with the spoon, and Rome proceeded to run his lighter against the bottom until the utensil glowed red.
Fletcher ripped off his belt and jammed it between Maddox’s teeth. Before Rome unceremoniously pressed the searing spoon against each bite-mark.
The smell of cooked meat rose. Seared skin. It was enough to curdle my stomach.
I stood on the sidelines, useless, as Rome cauterized Maddox’s wounds.
Fletcher pressed his hand against Maddox’s forehead before he looked at me. “A purger got him?” He asked.
I nodded robotically, unable to look down at where Maddox lay on the floor.
Fletcher swore. “They have a sedative in their saliva. Strong. He’s going to have to sleep it off.”
“He’s not going to die, is he?” My voice cracked.
“If he was human, he wouldn’t be doing so great.” Fletcher shot me a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “He’ll be okay. We got to him in time.” He assured me. “He’ll be in pain, but okay.”
Rome slid his arms under Maddox’s legs and nodded to Fletcher to grab his arms. The two men lifted Maddox, who remained unconscious, and made their way past the living room to the archway. They navigated the spiral staircase as if they had done it dozens of times before (with an unconscious man in their grasp), and I followed on their heels, chewing my thumbnail and unable to calm down.