TWELVE
“WHAT?” MY QUESTION emerged as a hoarse
whisper.
“Her brother?” Shay
gaped. “You mean Ansel?”
“I didn’t get a
name,” Adne said. “Why are you still standing there? Come
on!”
I snapped out of my
shock and bolted for the door. Adne was already running down the
hall. I could hear Shay’s feet pounding just behind
me.
Ethan took down a
Guardian. Took down? The electric
adrenaline that pulled me after Adne transformed into a numbing
dread. Fear’s icy tendrils turned into sharp spikes of terror when
I caught sight of the glimmering open door.
I stopped, not
recognizing the man who stood alongside it. “Good, you’ve found
them,” he said. “Everyone else has gone through.”
“That’s just Jerome,
Calla. Go on.” Adne pushed me into the portal.
I stumbled forward,
landing on my hands and knees in Purgatory’s training
room.
“What were you
thinking?!” Monroe roared. “He’s a child!”
I was afraid of what
possibly could have made Monroe so angry.
“He was running at
me, Monroe. Screaming like a banshee, I swear,” Ethan yelled, his
voice choked and full of strain. “He yelled, ‘I’m a Guardian, I’m a
Guardian,’ over and over. What was I supposed to do?”
Isaac, Connor, and
Silas were staring at something on the floor in front of them,
their faces ashen. That was when I saw the blood pooling at their
feet.
Monroe tore his
raging eyes from Ethan at the sound of our approach. His anger gave
way to fear when he saw me.
“Calla—” He stepped
over the rivulets of blood that moved out from the circle of
Searchers and grabbed my arm.
I wrenched away from
him and shoved aside Connor, who had stepped behind Monroe in a
second attempt to shield whoever was on the floor from my
view.
Ansel wasn’t moving.
His clothes were dark with blood. I screamed and covered my mouth
with my hands. Crossbow bolts protruded from his
chest.
“Ansel!
Ansel!!”
“I didn’t know who
it was . . . ,” Ethan began, and stared at me with wild eyes. “He
just threw himself at me. I thought he would claw my eyes
out.”
I lunged at Ethan,
but Connor’s arms wrapped around me from behind.
“Whoa, girl,” he
said, trying to keep his voice even, but I could hear his anxiety.
“Let’s not do anything hasty.”
“I will kill you,” I
growled, struggling against Connor.
“Oh God.” Shay was
beside me, staring at Ansel. He looked at me. “Can you help
him?”
The red wave of rage
had pushed all rational thought from my mind. I closed my eyes,
trying to draw breath.
“If his heart is
still beating,” I murmured. “Maybe.”
“Okay, then let’s do
that. I’ll help you. You have to focus, Cal. Save Ansel.” Shay
touched my arm. He looked at Connor. “Let her go.”
Connor glanced at
Monroe, who had positioned himself between me and Ethan. Monroe
gave a slight nod. Connor eased his grip on me, and Shay took both
of my hands, pulling me to Ansel’s side. I knelt in the blood and
put my hands on Ansel’s chest. I could hear his breath, wet and
ragged. His pulse was there, but it was weak and
slowing.
I choked on a sob.
“Oh God, Ansel.”
“I’m sorry.” Ethan
was staring at us, his face a mixture of grief and horror. “I
didn’t know he was your brother.”
I glared at him,
rage making every beat of my heart deafening.
“Stop talking,
Ethan,” Monroe said, and moved to block my view of the
Searcher.
“Calla.” Shay’s
voice brought me back to the task at hand. “Ansel needs help now.
What can I do?”
I shook my head,
trying to focus. “He needs blood, and the arrows have to come
out.”
Shay
nodded.
“When I tell you,
pull the shafts as quickly as you can.”
“All
right.”
He moved to the
other side of Ansel’s limp form and grasped a crossbow bolt. I
raised my forearm to my lips and bit down. I slid my hand
underneath Ansel’s head and tilted it up. I wedged my fingers
between his lips, parting them. Then I leaned down and murmured in
his ear as I pressed my bleeding arm against his
mouth.
“Listen, baby
brother. Please listen.” I was sobbing as I spoke. “I need you to
hear me. You have to drink, Ansel. Please drink.”
My blood poured into
his mouth. Down his throat. I closed my eyes and pressed my
forehead against his temple. The Searchers stared at us, silent and
frozen in place. A mixture of horror and curiosity played across
their faces.
Ansel didn’t move.
My blood was filling his mouth; it began to trickle out one corner
of his lips.
“Calla?” Shay’s
voice was edged with fear.
“Please, Ansel,” I
whispered again. “Drink. I love you. Don’t do this.
Drink.”
Ansel’s body jerked,
a sharp shuddering movement. His jaw opened and he swallowed. His
muscles convulsed and his head pulled away from my
arm.
“Adne, Connor, get
over here,” I shouted. “He’s going to fight. I need you to hold him
still.”
They both came to my
side and pinned his shoulders to the floor. He jerked again, and
they had no trouble holding him still. Even through my fear I
frowned. His struggling was weak. Something was wrong. I put my
bleeding arm back against his mouth.
“Come on, An,” I
said. “You need this. Keep drinking. Don’t fight it.”
He swallowed again
and then began to drink steadily.
“Keep him down,” I
said, glancing at Adne and Connor.
They grimaced and
nodded.
“Shay, start pulling
the arrows.”
“Okay.” Shay sucked
in a quick breath. “Here goes nothing.” He jerked the first shaft
out of Ansel’s chest.
Ansel’s eyes didn’t
open, but he bucked up and snarled, spewing blood from his mouth.
Adne grunted, but Connor just kept steady pressure against Ansel’s
body.
“Hold him down!” I
shouted, and pushed my arm back against his mouth.
My anxiety grew by
the minute. Ansel was barely putting up a fight. What if my blood came too late to save
him?
“Again, Shay,” I
said, pushing back the sickening fear that crawled up my throat.
“We have to get the arrows out as quickly as
possible.”
Shay nodded and
pulled out two more arrows. “That’s all of them,” he announced,
tossing the crossbow bolts aside.
I kept my arm
pressed to Ansel’s mouth. He stopped flailing and drank deeply,
more steadily. I braced myself against the floor with my other
hand. He was taking a lot of blood.
“Calla—” Shay moved
to my side and put his arm around my waist.
“I’ll be okay,” I
said.
Ansel stopped
drinking. I hesitantly pulled my arm from his mouth and clamped my
hand over the puncture wound. His eyes fluttered open.
“Calla?”
I sobbed, pulling
him against me.
Monroe expelled a
shuddering sigh. “Thank God.”
“No wonder Strikers
have such a hard time killing them,” Silas quipped. “Did you see
how fast that was? I’ll talk to the Academy about some new
enchantments to counter that.”
“Not now, Silas,”
Connor said through gritted teeth.
“It’s really you,”
Ansel said, blinking at me, his voice still a bit unsteady. “I
can’t believe I found you.”
“Ansel.” I buried my
face in his matted hair. “Oh God, Ansel.”
His eyes remained
slightly unfocused as they slid over the circled Searchers, finally
resting on Ethan, who took a step back.
“He shot me.” Ansel
sounded oddly amused. “That’s the one who shot me.”
“Don’t worry—” I
began. “It’s all going to be okay. He didn’t know who you were, but
you’re safe now.”
Ansel looked at me
again. I didn’t recognize the empty smile that cut across his
mouth.
“You should have let
him kill me.”