Page 68 of Twisted Knight

“Will he wake up when you do that?”

“I gave him some sedatives. It’s one for dogs but it works on humans; we should be okay.”

“I can never thank you enough.”

“Don’t thank me yet; I'm not sure I can save him.”

“Still, you’re doing your best.”

His eyes went down to the gun tucked in the waist of my jeans.

“I’d never hurt you. I don’t even know how to use it,” I admitted.

He simply took a deep breath and concentrated on the wound.

I turned my head as the bell of the door rang, and Luca and Matteo appeared in the room.

Luca's face was lined with worry, his eyes taking in the whole room, his face morphing in pure anguish at the shredded, blood-soaked piece of cloth on the floor that used to be Dom’s shirt.

Matteo, the iceman, just stood tall, taking the room in with cool indifference. The look in his eyes, the coldness there, terrified me in ways Luca or Dom never could.

The vet looked up from his work and took a small step back.

“You are in no danger with us,” Matteo's slightly accented voice sounded cold and harsh, so different from the pretend playfulness from the hospital. Somehow, I knew now that I was meeting the real man.

“As long as you do your best.” He turned to me. “And as long as you remain faithful to us, we’ll be on your side.”

“Luca, we need help,” I said to him, almost wishing he could take over and I could go cry in a corner for a bit. The adrenaline was wearing down and I felt like I would break down any minute.

“I know.” He took a couple of steps toward us, keeping his eyes on Dom. “We’ve got people on the way, but it will take time.”

The vet looked up. “He doesn’t have time. He’s lost too much blood. I’m not certain I can even close the second wound without blood.”

“Then do a transfusion,” Matteo piped up from his spot against the wall.

Luca sighed with exasperation, throwing him a glare.

The vet gestured to his room. “I’m a vet, not a surgeon. I have a transfusion machine but no human blood.”

“Take mine,” Luca offered, already taking off his jacket.

“No, I—” The man looked down at a white cart on the tray that had some blood on it. “He’s AB negative.” He jerked his head to the card. “The rarest blood type in the world. Less than one percent of the population has this type. Are you AB negative?” he asked Luca with hope.

Luca shook his head, looking at Dom again. “A positive,” he replied, his face so dejected you would have thought he had been the one hurting Dom.

“Is he going to die without blood?” Matteo asked grimly, resting his eyes on Dom’s form.

The vet winced. “I think so, yes.”

Matteo cursed in Italian before removing his jacket. “Take mine,” he commanded, rolling up his sleeve.

“Sir, if your blood is not perfectly compatible, this might kill him and—”

Matteo sighed in frustration, taking a few steps forward. “I’m AB negative too. I said, take mine.”

I rested my hand on my chest, letting out a sigh of relief. I wouldn’t have survived watching him die.

“Oh, thank God!” I looked at Dom, who was lying unconscious and scarily pale on the operating table. “What were the odds?”

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