Vial Things (Resurrectionist #1) - Leah Clifford Page 0,17
not in the crowds anymore. In fact, we’ve taken a side street or two, closer now to Allie’s place. There’s no one around.
“What are you talking about?” I ask. “You’re not going to kill her?” I fight off the panic threatening to overwhelm me and force a laugh. “If you keep killing them, there won’t be any left.” We don’t know exactly what they are, and only a bit about the power they have. Mostly that we want it, too.
Jamison raises an eyebrow, amused. “Brandon told me where to find Allie’s aunt before he ran out of breath, and a couple tidbits about Allie herself. Besides, once we can do all the things they can, we won’t want anyone else having that power, right?”
He’s never mentioned this before. “Jamison,” I say feigning nonchalance. “That’s not why we’re doing this. No one else needs to die.” No one should have died at all.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says. He takes a step toward me and lands a soft punch on my side just under my ribs. It’s not until he pulls away that the pain comes, sharp and spreading. “You do.”
There’s a knife in his hand, the entire blade coated in red. My blood. I watch the stain spread down my shirt in disbelief before I think to smash a hand against the wound. Burning radiates through my side.
“What...why?” I can’t get my mouth to work through the pain.
He grins. “Christ, relax. I was being dramatic.” Shock keeps me from fighting when he loops an arm under mine. “We both know these people are picky as hell, but you said yourself, you’re in with Allie,” Jamison says, stumbling us toward the street again, toward her gate.
“Not in enough to risk my life!” I say through grinding teeth.
“She’ll heal you. Don’t worry.” The voice in my ear is certain, consoling.
Black dots scatter across my vision. My feet feel like lead as he drives us on, blocking the bloody wound from view with his body. Each breath hisses through my clenched teeth. “This was such a dick move, Jamison,” I get out and he snickers.
“Would you have let me do it if you knew it was coming?” Crazy or not, he does have a point. When we make it to the gate, he adjusts me against him. “We don’t have time to wait for her to trust you with her secrets. I saw my mom heal herself after they brought her back. She couldn’t do it for long before it wore off, but Allie will be able to do more. She’ll fix you. And when she does, she’ll have to tell you the rest. Then you just need to convince her to change you permanently.”
“If she doesn’t?” I ask.
“I’ve got her aunt’s address. If you can’t get Allie to at least heal you, we’ll get you some stitches and I’ll work the angle I can.” He lifts the latch and practically carries me through the gate, toward the house. I stumble and drop to my knees, the concrete of the sidewalk biting into my skin, my palms shredded. I barely feel it through the grating waves coming from the stab wound. A puddle of red drips to form beneath me.
“You’ve gone crazy,” I say, sure it’s too weak and low for him to hear until he laughs.
“We’re not crazy, you and me. We’re determined. And pretty soon, we’re going to be unstoppable. We’re right there.” He points to the stairs. “You can make it.”
It takes everything in me to get to my feet and stagger forward.
His eyes catch on the blood I leave behind. The easy confidence he wore is gone. “Hey, you’re okay right? I cut you on the side.” He presses against the wound and unleashes another round of agony. “You shouldn’t be losing this much blood.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault?” I spit.
He sets his jaw. “I’ll get you up there. Don’t worry.”
“No!” I raise a hand to his shoulder and push off, wavering as I stand on my own. “No, she can’t see you.” I don’t want him anywhere near her. My fingers tighten around his wrist when he reaches for my shoulder. “I can make it.”
He gives me an uncertain look, but finally nods. It’s a fight to stay standing as I take the stairs one by one. He’s watching me from near the gate. If he sees me fall again, he’s not going to trust me to do this on my own.