Boundary Born (Boundary Magic Book 3) - Melissa F. Olson Page 0,51
folding chair for himself. The room was getting crowded, so I went around and stood on the other side of the bed to watch. Simon, who wasn’t nearly as skilled at IVs as Lily, couldn’t find a suitable vein on the back of Emil’s hand, so he asked him to roll up his sleeve so Simon could check the inside of Emil’s elbow. Emil leaned forward, his shirt gaping at the collar, and I saw something under the neckline swing forward on a cord. Something big and shiny.
“Is that a pocket watch?” I asked, gesturing toward his shirt. Emil flinched and put his hand flat against the shirt.
Simon inserted the needle, and Emil shot me an embarrassed look. “Just a good-luck charm, I’m afraid,” he said. “Something my mother gave me.”
“May I see it?” I said lightly.
Emil glanced at Simon, who was attaching tape to the needle. “I’m a bit embarrassed,” he murmured.
“Please? I’m really interested.”
Reluctantly, Emil reached into the neck of his shirt and tugged out the leather cord. The necklace spilled across his chest, but it was a lot more than one charm. There were at least eight different stone bars on the cord, and each one of them gleamed with perfection. The smallest was green and the size of my thumb. The largest was nearly as big as a three-pound hand weight. No wonder the guy’s clothes were hanging weird.
Simon sat back, staring with frank admiration. “Holy shit,” he said. “I don’t know much about crystals, but those look like museum-quality pieces.”
With his free hand, Emil hurried to tuck the necklace back into his shirt. “Yes, well. Mother wanted me to be protected, even if I don’t have magic of my own.”
“Do you know much about—” Simon began, but cut himself off, leaning closer to Emil. “Wait. I think your pupils are dilated. Turn toward the light, please?”
“I’m sure it’s just the lighting. The IV looks fine. Are we all set?” He looked at Simon expectantly. Simon shrugged slightly and reached for the rubber tubing so he could connect it to Emil’s IV.
“Stop,” I heard myself saying, though I wasn’t sure why. “Something’s not right.”
Simon and Emil both began talking at the same time, but it was Quinn who strode forward, grabbed the end of Emil’s just-taped IV, and yanked. The tape came loose with a small ripping sound, and a tiny trickle of blood spurted out.
Before any of us could process what he was doing, Quinn smeared a finger in the blood and stuck it in his mouth. Then he spat. “Belladonna,” he growled.
Before anyone could react to that, he had grabbed Emil by the throat and was beginning to lift. Emil’s legs kicked out, blood trickling down his arm.
“Who the hell are you?” Quinn demanded.
“I can explain,” Emil began in a reasonable tone—just as he pulled a stake out of one pocket and plunged it into Quinn’s chest.
Chapter 20
“No!”
I didn’t even hear myself scream it; I was too busy scrambling over the bed to lunge at Emil.
He was expecting it. He sidestepped me easily, and Quinn and I went down in a tangle. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Simon running at Emil, but the older man clocked him in the jaw, using Simon’s own momentum against him. Simon fell down, momentarily stunned, and Emil used the opening to bolt out the door.
I ignored him, totally focused on the wooden stake sticking out of Quinn’s chest. It was thicker and more crude than the spelled stakes we used, and—oh my God it was in his body—
He’s not dead, I told myself, though my breath was coming out in a ragged panic. Vampires start to decay immediately when their hearts are destroyed, and Quinn’s eyes were open, his hands twitching. Emil had either missed the heart or only nicked it.
“Quinn!” I yelled, but his eyes had gone distant, his body focused on repairing itself. My hands fluttered over the stake. It just looked so wrong sticking out of his chest that my fingers itched to pull it out, even though my old first aid training screamed at me to resist.
I looked frantically at Simon. “Should I pull it out?” My voice came out high and shrill.
Simon didn’t answer. He was on his hands and knees, looking dizzy. I hesitantly wrapped both hands around the stake—and gasped in shock as Quinn’s hands went around mine.
“I’ll be okay,” he wheezed. The stake must have punctured a lung. “Go after him.”