Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Social Skills and Stitches

“Who is this?” Wrythe asked, a bit of amusement in his voice.

“We found him in the parking garage near the elevator,” one of the warriors said.

Wrythe checked the backs of the guy’s hands. “He has no marks. Why would you think to bring him down here?”

“He had this blade on him, not to mention all of the demon blood.” The other warrior produced a sword that had the marks of the Dark Moth on them.

I felt compelled to add the information I had as well. “He was also able to see the demons. And he told me they would be able to get through the car… Maybe he’s a regular Moth who knows how to fight?”

Wrythe smiled. “I believe you might be right.” He went back over to the couch. “Boys, take him to Heathcliff.”

As they carried him out the door, Wrythe said, “Alice, I’m making this boy your responsibility. Once he’s healed, find out his story, discover what you can about him and then bring me the answers. Understand?”

I shivered internally, even though I didn’t know why. But I wanted to decline. Instead, I reacted like a good little soldier. “Yes, your highness.”

“Good girl now get going. Your mission starts now. Don’t leave his side until I instruct otherwise.” He went to the door and held it open, waiting for me to leave.

“Very well.” I followed after the warriors and held open the double doors to the hospital wing so they could carry the wounded man inside.

“Heathcliff!” one of the warriors shouted. “We have another wounded.”

The physician was sitting at his desk looking into a microscope. At his name, he jumped with surprise and let out a very unmanly yelp. “Isaac. Neeko.” He brushed his graying hair out of his face. “Who have you brought me?”

“We think he’s a regular Moth, but he’s wounded and unconscious.”

“Well, get him on the table so I can have a look.”

They got him up, laying him on his back.

The room was clean and sterile. Everything in its place. The walls, ceiling, and floor were stark white. Lights blazed so bright it looked like daytime. Rows of glass cupboards lined the wall on the left. I saw a heart, an ear, and the head of an unknown creature before I looked away. The back wall held two doors and in between them was Heathcliff’s workstation in the shape of a T, complete with three computer monitors, the microscope and other machines I wasn’t sure about. On the wall above the workstation were four rows of bookshelves filled with old books behind glass doors. To the right was a sink, more cupboards, another table, and some machines. In the center of the room was a stainless steel table on wheels. Below it was a drain.

The room terrified me.

“Does he have a name?” Heathcliff asked, his gaze landing on me.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Fine.” Heathcliff took a pair of shears from one of his drawers. “Everyone can go. I have work to do.” He shooed the warriors from the room. “You too, Alice.”

“Wrythe ordered me to remain by his side,” I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat.

Heathcliff raised his thick, graying eyebrows. “Very well then. You can be my assistant.” He handed me the scissors. “Cut the boy’s shirt at the center and straight up.” He went to jar and removed some gauze. “Hurry. I need to assess his injuries and see what kind of damage is under there.”

I went over to the table. The guy’s black shirt was soaked in demon blood as well as some of his own and I cut into it. He looked like a Moth with deep black hair, tanned skin, tall and muscled. His eyes were closed, but I had a feeling when they were open, they’d be gray too. The same as everyone else’s.

I thought.

“Hustle, Alice,” Heathcliff urged.

“Right.” I finished cutting and parted the shirt. There was a large slash across his incredibly toned abs. It was bleeding though it had slowed. He had smaller scrapes, welts, and teeth marks all over his torso, arms, neck, and face similar to mine.

I’d tried to bind my fingers after my shower, but they were still bleeding.

“Good green goodness. What happened to you all?” He pressed the gauze to the guy’s wound and then turned to me. As he pulled the bandages from my fingers, I told him about the Envy demon as well as the menials.

“Sounds scary,” he said, leading me over to the large sink and turned on the water. “Why didn’t you say something about these wounds?”

“I forgot,” I said shrugging.

He mumbled something incoherent as he squirted something that smelled like antiseptic into my hands before moving back to the guy bleeding on the table. “Wash up. Use that towel beside the sink to dry your hands. It’s clean.”

I rubbed my hands together, forcing myself not to wince. The liquid stung as it hit the places where the demons teeth went in. Fresh blood poured from my fingers as I removed the hardened, old stuff.

“Good.” He returned and quickly bandaged my hands. “Put on a pair of gloves so you can help me attend to this guy. This looks like the work of a tracker. Its claws got him good.”

“Claws did that?”

“Afraid so.” As he spoke he dabbed at the wound with something that smelled of lemons and alcohol. Once I had my gloves in place he handed the wad of gauze to me. “Carefully clean away as much blood as you can while I hook him up to a saline drip and give him some blood. He’ll need both.”

I wiped at the blood until the gauze was soaked. Grabbed another and continued until the area was as clean as I could get it.

Then Heathcliff pushed me out of the way. “I’ll need to sew him closed to assist with his healing.” He held a needle and thread in one hand and a clean swatch of gauze in the other. “This is going to hurt him. Since anesthetic won’t help, I’ll need you to hold his hands so he doesn’t get in my way.”

“How? Where—” I wasn’t sure where to hold him down and touching him in his current state seemed too personal.

He shook his head. “Our instructors really need to work on giving you trainees some medical skills.” He pushed me toward the guy’s head. “Stand above him. Lean over and take his arms, and hold them tight until I’m finished.”

“Fine,” I said, thinking Heathcliff was right about some medical training. I grabbed the guy’s arms. His biceps were large, but I pressed down as best I could.

“Here we go.” Heathcliff stuck the needle into the guy’s skin.

The guy groaned in pain and tried to roll away.

“Keep him steady,” Heathcliff snapped.

I tightened my grip as Heathcliff fished the needle back through the skin.

The guy groaned again, one leg kicked.

“Do not let him move.”

I leaned over the guy, pressing my elbows into his shoulders, watching his face.

As Heathcliff stuck his needle in once again, the guy moaned. And his eyes opened.

“What the hell are you doing?” His eyes caught hold of mine. I glanced away, but not without first seeing that his eyes weren’t gray, and they weren’t like mine either. They were bright green.

“Don’t move. You’ve got a nasty cut and I’m trying to patch you up, uh—what’s your name, kid?” Heathcliff stuck the needle that resembled a fishhook through his skin.

“Ahhhh, damn that hurts.” The guy shuddered.

I glanced down at him, trying not to stare, but I couldn’t help myself.

“I’m Kade. Kade Everett,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Well, Mr. Everett. My name is Heathcliff Henry but you can call me Doc.” He pulled the thread all the way through.

“Good to meet you, I guess,” Kade said, blowing out a steadying breath.

“We’ll see if you still feel that way when I’m finished sewing up all of your wounds.” Doc winked. “The woman holding you down is Alice.”

“Hi Alice,” he said, tracing my face with his eyes.

Embarrassment rushed through me. “Hello.” I looked away, watching Heathcliff work and hoping he’d finish quickly.

“This is going to hurt. Be strong and hold still,” Heathcliff continued.