Chapter 3
I reached Bridgette. She was waiting outside for me and practically threw herself at the car by the time I pulled up to the curb. Then again, who was I kidding? I was in such a distraught state, I rode up on the pavement, tires spinning, smoke actually curling from the rubber.
I managed to turn off the ignition, undo my seatbelt, and open the door. Then I pretty much collapsed. My knees chose that exact moment to give way.
Bridgette was by my side. “Holy shit, kid. What happened? Crap, you’re covered in blood. How the hell did you manage to get away from the Lonely King?”
“Like I said, I didn’t get away from him – he’s dead. That’s not the point, though. Help Max.” I shrugged out of her cast-iron grip. “Help him. I’ll be fine.”
Bridgette shot me the kind of look that told me I definitely wouldn’t be fine, but she didn’t fight me on this, thankfully. She shifted past me.
She opened the back door and frowned down at Max.
I sucked in several grounding breaths, trying to use them to give me the strength I needed to cut past the pain. Keeping one hand locked against the smooth side of the car for support, I managed to push to my knees then to my feet.
Bridgette was peering in through the back door at Max. I caught a glimpse of the side of her face, and it made my stomach sink like a torpedoed ship.
I shifted toward her, heart hammering in my chest. “What is it? Is he okay? Tell me he can be cured. Tell me he’ll be okay.”
Bridgette didn’t face me. It seemed she couldn’t. She shifted back, locked a hand on her mouth, and sucked in a hasty breath through her white-knuckled fingers. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she said. “But we’ll try to help. Of course we will.” Bridgette shifted back and made a wide motion of her arm toward the door to the building opposite us. It opened, and several people I recognized as witches rushed out. In a matter of minutes, they had Max out of the car and in through the front door.
Bridgette wrapped an arm around my waist and helped me walk. By the time we were inside, I was almost ready to collapse. Almost, because I had absolutely no intention of letting my eyes close for any extended period of time until I knew exactly what was wrong with Max.
I kept staring at him as if I’d never be able to take my eyes off him again.
They took him through the building into a back room. It had large, comfortable looking couches, and they rested him down on one.
Sarah appeared from somewhere, and the second she saw Max was the second her face seemed to fall off. True horror shifted in her gaze, and it made my stomach turn.
I shrugged off Bridgette’s grip and took a hobbling step toward Sarah. “What’s going on? Please tell me what’s going on,” I said, practically screaming when no one answered my garbled questions immediately.
Sarah turned to me, her beautiful dress twisting hard against her legs and banging over her slender knees. “I don’t exactly know what’s wrong with him. We’ll find out, and we’ll help. First things first,” she looked down at my injuries, “you need to sit down before you fall down.”
I pressed my lips together. I intended to fight, but that was when Bridgette leaned in and locked a supportive and yet authoritative hand on my back.
“She’s right, kid. Just sit down now, or you’ll fall down later. We all know you want to be by Max’s side, so I’d suggest the latter.”
I didn’t fight her as she hooked an arm under my elbow and led me toward one of the couches. As soon as I sat in it, I swear my body tried to give up. A new wave of nausea and fatigue crashed through me, and I fought to keep my eyes open.
Sarah walked over to several witches by the door and began mumbling something to them in quiet, quick, worried tones.
“What’s wrong with him? Please just tell me what’s wrong with him?” I kept demanding.
Bridgette reached out a supportive hand and planted it on my shoulder. “It’s okay. Everyone’s doing everything they can. You’ve got to relax and see to your own injuries.”
“I don’t care about them.”
I tried to shrug Bridgette off, but she just sniggered.
“Sure, that’s why you’re having trouble keeping your eyes open. Now come here.”
Though I could have fought her, I chose not to as she pulled something from her pocket and handed it to me. It was a stone. One of those stones you see in new-age stores with various symbols like happy, love, and peace carved over them. Hold them, and they are meant to help you manifest such forces in your life.
Despite the harrowing situation, I frowned at her pointedly. “I really don’t think this is gonna help.”
She smiled and nodded down at me. “Give it a try. Hold it against your chest and rub it slowly and rhythmically with your thumb, taking exactly two seconds to rub the outer circumference. Got it?”
I kept frowning at her, but I wasn’t in the frame of mind to argue. So I clutched the stone tightly in my hand and brought it to my chest. I started rubbing. I honestly didn’t expect it to do anything whatsoever. But the more I rubbed it, the more it appeared to have an effect on me. In several seconds, relief washed over me.
I faced Bridgette. “What the hell is this?”
Bridgette offered a tensed smile in return. “It will only work as long as you keep
