Page 82 of Even Vampires Bleed
After a long time—I have no idea how long, but I felt like it lasted hours—I finally jump from the last branch to the ground and let my wings free.
It’s not very high, but it’s high enough that she would feel the shock if I ever jumped like a human.
My wings slow our descent, and I release Cassiopé so she can get her feet on the ground.
I shouldn’t have bothered, though, because she’s glued to my torso, and it feels like she doesn’t want to let me go at all.
Her head is tucked against my chest, and she has stopped crying. From her jagged breath, I think she’s still in a lot of pain.
Since the branch is still spearing her, I’m not surprised.
“You need to stop holding me koala style,” I tell her. “I need to check on your wound and see if we can remove the branch.”
I turn her face so she looks at me, and I can see her answer. I have a feeling I won’t get any word from her until this piece of tree is out of her wing.
She carefully gets herself back on the ground, making sure not to jostle her wing.
I circle her to look at her wing—front and back—and assess the damage.
It’s not pretty. The thin membrane that makes up her wings has been torn from the middle of her center panel to the top of it. The fact she skewered the center panel is probably what saved her from broken bones, because it means the branch stopped tearing through her skin when it reached the part where all the panels meet, leavingtwo bones on each side. I’ll have to double check after removing the branch, though, because the joints might be dislocated. I won’t tell her that for now. I don’t think she needs another reason to worry.
“The wood seems to be smooth,” I tell her. That’s the only thing we have going for us. At least we won’t cause more damage while getting it out of her.
“Do you, by any chance, have something that could help sanitize the wound after I remove the tree?” I ask her, but I’m disappointed when she shakes her head.
“Give me a second,” I say, and I run to the cabin that not so magically appeared on our right when I finally jumped from the tree cover. I didn’t even give it a second look, but now I don’t have any other choice.
Cassiopé’s health might depend on what I’ll find inside.
The cabin doesn’t really look like what I had expected. I thought it would be made of wood. Instead, it’s been built with rocks stuck together, and it looks to be of a decent size. I have the nasty feeling that the wall might be thick and that the house looks bigger than it actually is.
I run to the door. It’s made of plain on the outside, but is heavier than it should be when I pull on it. Metal—the inside is made of metal.
At least this house looks like it could survive a storm.
I enter, and I can barely see what’s inside, with all the blinds closed. The only light is coming from the door that I left open.
It looks like a spacious living room coupled with a kitchen. I can see the dust particles dancing in the light, and I know we’ll have to air the room. Hell, we’ll need to air the entire house.
It’s not the right time to think about that, though.
I run to the kitchen and open all the cupboards.
Ah, I found it—alcohol.
I would have been surprised if there wasn’t any.
I’m pretty sure Léon must have liked a whiskey by the fire from time to time. I was banking on it.
I shuffle the bottles and find one that should work.
Vodka.
It’s the only unopened bottle that isn’t wine, so it seems we’re lucky.
I run back to Cassiopé, and I find her holding herself up against a tree, her two hands against the bark and her head between her shoulders.
I come from the side and touch her shoulder.
