Page 45 of Her Reborn Mate

“No one, not even Will, can stand so many changes in his body. As I said before, this is beyond my ability to heal,” Dr. Morris said.

“Why am I not surprised?” I said sarcastically. “Is there anything that you can do at all?”

“Well, yes. I can administer some adrenaline and bring him back to consciousness, but that’s not really a solution,” Dr. Morris said.

“I’ll take it. Just wake him up. I’ll do something on my own,” I said fiercely.

The doctor nodded, then disappeared in the back and appeared with a huge syringe filled with clear liquid. He injected it in Will’s chest, then stood back.

At first, Will did not budge, but then he immediately rose, his eyes wide awake. He panted at first, then looked all around, aghast.

“What happened to me?” he asked, covered in sweat.

“Wolf’s Bane. It’s poisoning you,” I said, trying to keep myself together.

“That’s not good,” Will said, still panting heavily. He fell on the bed and covered his face. “Did you get the groceries?”

My voice broke slightly as I could not hold myself back any longer. “Yes. John delivered the groceries to the house. Are you worried about groceries right now? You’re not well! The doctor says you’re dying.”

“Ah, well, tell the doctor I have already died once, and it didn’t stick,” Will said.

Dr. Morris just stood there, shaking his head gravely, then said, “Perhaps it would be better for you to rest and recover at home. We must not forget that you’ve put your body through so much in the past few days. It could just as well be the toll of all the hectic activity. People are known to collapse from exhaustion.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it, doctor,” I said.

“I won’t,” he said. “If the chemicals in his body aren’t neutralized, we’re looking at renal and liver failure. Without his vital organs working for him, Will won’t have a shot at surviving. There. I didn’t sugarcoat it. Our only medical recourse is blood purification. I can get him started on a drip tomorrow, then see how the bloodwork tests against immunogens. If it’s a positive change, then we can continue that treatment while also administering basic drugs that can take care of the pain and the inflammation.”

“No,” Will said, taking away his hands from his face and staring at the doctor. “There won’t be any need for that.”

“You can’t just give up!” I pleaded.

“No one’s giving up. I have another recourse if you are willing,” Will said.

“If it’s a non-medical fix, I best not be here; otherwise, I’ll risk putting my medical license in jeopardy,” Dr. Morris said.

“Why’s that, doc? They don’t teach magic as an elective course at Johns Hopkins?” Will asked and laughed.

“Laugh all you want, but trust me when I say that as a werewolf and a man of medicine, I have seldom seen magic and medicine work together. Whatever you’ll end up doing is going to be purely risky,” Dr. Morris said.

“I trust Alexis. I know she won’t fail,” Will said, looking at me and smiling weakly.

***

Will was still conscious when I took him back home. He was weak, but at least he was able to talk to me and discuss what he’d had in mind back at the clinic. I took the liberty of taking one of the clinic’s wheelchairs to escort Will back to his house.

“Will, Vince is gone. We can’t expect him to return to wherever he went to get you another potion,” I said. “So unless you have something truly tangible, we’re lost in the woods.”

“I do have something truly tangible. The last time I was in the clinic, I was unconscious, remember? I didn’t have a say in what was happening to me and what types of treatment I was being given. Vince had a stroke of genius, but that was all it was. We need something else. And tonight, at the clinic, I saw it with my own eyes. Dr. Morris forgets that he’s part of a tradition of werewolves. He’s more medically inclined. In his clinic, there are books that the original healer who came with us from Germany brought to America. Books of ancient medicine that werewolves had been using for centuries to cure illnesses. I can bet my life on those books. There’s something in them that’s going to help me,” he said. “I can promise you that.”

“Then I’ll break into the clinic and just get the books,” I said, getting up.

“Sit down,” Will said, smiling at me. “I am the Alpha. So long as it falls under the jurisdiction of this commune, you won’t have to break into any place. You can just go into the clinic and get the books. They’re mine, after all.”

“But your illness is so novel. Do you think they had poisons such as the ones running through your body back in those days? Are there any antidotes for such modern illnesses in those books?”

Will struggled to sit up in bed and only barely managed to prop his body up by his elbows. He looked at me intensely, then said, “The wisdom in those books predates and transcends anything we know today. The potions and treatments stated in those books are more potent than anything modern medicine has been capable of doing.”

“Then why haven’t people used them? Why not use them for cuts, bruises, lesions, cancer?” I asked.

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