Page 23 of Baited

“Move aside,” a medic snarls at me.

I move back, but I don’t let go of his hand. I couldn’t if I wanted to because he holds me tight.

IZZY

“Where is the female?” the medic bellows from the bedside, and I’m hustled into the room by Madame.

“She is here.” I’m given a shove towards the bed.

I was unceremoniously ushered out only a nova-hour ago, being told my presence wasn’t required and given Blayn didn’t like being touched, I’d get in the way of them doing their job.

By this time, Blayn was completely unconscious, his hand limp and his head lolling back onto the bed. I did as I was told, knowing the last thing I wanted to do was upset the dome and by default, the madame.

I scurried back to my cleaning cupboard, my heart thumping against my chest, adrenaline buzzing in my veins and tears scoring my cheeks.

Hot tears I couldn’t stop from falling, even if I wanted to. I didn’t even cry when I was abducted from Earth. But I’m crying now because when he stopped, when he passed out, it was as if a light turned off inside me, and I don’t understand what that means.

Which is when the Madame burst in and I was dragged back to the cubicle.

There are three medics surrounding the bed as I climb the stairs to the level where it’s situated. The room has a smell which is soured with antiseptic and something worse, something like rot. A roaring moan rends the air and one of the medics takes a swift step back as a hand filled with vicious claws swipes out and barely misses him.

“Come up, come up!” he shouts at me. “Come!”

I’m grabbed by the shoulder the minute I’m in range.

Blayn is on the bed, still a horrible color. He’s covered in sweat and thrashes back and forth. The wound in his side is oozing black.

“Izzy,” he moans, eyelids straining against eyes which see and don’t see.

“You’re Izzy, aren’t you?” the medic demands.

“Yes, I am,” I reply.

“Sit with him. See if it calms him.” The hand on my shoulder gives me another push downwards onto the bed, giving me no option.

And the very second I’m on the bed, Blayn stops writhing, his breathing easing slightly.

“It’s working…” the second medic says.

“Stay there,” the first one warns me. “We can’t risk knocking him out, not while he’s in this state, so this is going to hurt him. Do whatever you need to do to keep him calm.”

“He won’t let me touch him,” I say in desperation. “What can I do?”

The medic dips his chin to his chest. “He doesn’t have much choice. Do it.”

They all have various unpleasant looking implements in their hands. I look down at Blayn. His eyes are closed, and his lips are slightly blue.

I don’t want to lose him.

“Hey.” My hand hovers over his forehead, where I can feel the heat rolling from him. “You called for me. I’m here now.”

I swallow down my fear, try not to look at his weaponized hands, and steel myself, slowly, carefully brushing his hair from his forehead and out of his eyes.

Incredibly, he goes quiet, his breath still quick but not in huge huffs. He squirms briefly. I look up and one of the medics nods at me.

I’m not dead yet, so I run my knuckle down his cheek.

“I’m here, Blayn,” I say quietly, “I’m here for you.”

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