Boundary Born (Boundary Magic Book 3) - Melissa F. Olson Page 0,30

Dumpster, his eyes closed. “Quinn!” I yelled, and to my immense relief, he straightened up a little and looked at me. “Did your wound close?” I said, trying to keep my voice low and calm.

He looked down. “Yeah.” He sighed, and his eyelids began to flutter.

“Hey! Quinn!”

When he was looking at me again, I said, “We need help. And blood. Who do you trust?”

He gave me a slow blink. “Don’t know. If anyone finds out . . .”

He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. Maven controlled supernatural activity in the whole state. If anything happened to her, it would break the peace between vampires and witches and leave the state wide open for werewolf activity—or for Morgan to come back and stir up trouble all over again. And then there were all the other powerful supernatural creatures who would be interested in coming in to take the state for their own. Nature abhors a power vacuum.

And without Maven’s protection, Charlie would be fair game.

This was not good.

Besides Quinn, there were only two people in the Old World whom I fully trusted—but pulling Simon and Lily into this would put them in the very awkward position of keeping a powerful secret from their own mother. Again. Hazel Pellar was the most powerful witch in the state, but she had strong feelings about helping the vampires. Her loyalty to Maven was iffy at best: although they had a bargain in place, it didn’t exactly favor the witches. It limited them. Besides, if something were to happen to Maven, Hazel’s eldest daughter would be able to return to Colorado to be with her children. Not to mention Hazel herself could have a go at ruling the state.

At the same time, though, what choice did I have? If I didn’t get some help, Maven was gonna die, and possibly Quinn, too.

Still feeding Maven with one hand, I pulled out my phone with the other.

Chapter 12

My knees started to hurt after a few minutes of crouching, and I had to give up and sit down cross-legged, feeling lukewarm blood saturate the back of my pants. I told myself to think of it as a puddle of water, which actually helped a little.

I fed Maven for as long as I dared, but when I got light-headed and started to see spots at the edges of my vision, I had to stop and clutch my hand, trying to slow the bleeding. Luckily, it was only about five more minutes before I heard Simon’s Chevy pull into the little alley between Magic Beans and the next building.

Simon happened to be having dinner at the Pellar farmhouse when I’d called, so he and Lily had made some excuse and driven over together. They climbed out of the car and rushed toward us, each holding a backpack. With a grunt of greeting, Simon unzipped his pack and pulled out the same lantern he’d used when we were hunting the Unktehila, setting it up next to Maven’s body. The blaze of light was almost shocking, and I squinted away from it. I wanted to tell him to turn the lantern off—what if someone saw us?—but we were tucked in a tiny lot behind a Dumpster. I doubted it could be seen from the street.

I’d warned them to wear old clothes, but I didn’t realize how much blood my own outfit had collected until Lily rushed over to me and I followed her shocked gaze downward. My jeans were saturated, my silk blouse and blazer were decorated in damp dark blotches, and my skin was stained red in patches that ran from my arms to, probably, my face. It looked like I’d fallen into a bathtub of red dye. Luckily, I was just too dizzy to be properly grossed out. “This is why I can’t have nice things,” I mumbled to myself.

Lily crouched down near Maven’s head, right next to me. On the other side of her, Simon was pulling out what appeared to be his own personal vampire feeding kit, which included bandages, sterilized needles, IV tubing, and surgical knives. “You’re really going full-time with the Dr. Frankenstein bit, aren’t you?” I asked weakly.

“Frankenstein was just misunderstood,” Simon said, his tone so serious that I couldn’t decide if he was kidding or not. He handed the IV kit to Lily, who’d done a couple of years of medical school. She had already put on surgical gloves, and she expertly inserted an IV into the back of Simon’s hand. It was