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Fixer: Bad Boy Motorcycle Club by Amy Faye (16)

Chapter 15

Imogael

 

When Scott ran off, I sucked in a sharp bit of air and lifted the shirt. It revealed my bare legs, covered in blood, and then the sucking hole in my abdomen that had been left by the bullet. “Shit, shit, fuck, shit,” I said, closing my eyes. It hurt so bad that I was starting to feel woozy.

Placing my hand against the wound, I took deep breaths and willed it to heal. The bullet would remain in me, but there wasn't time right now to take it out. I could heal, then get surgery for the bullet later.

The skin began to tug and stitch around the hole, pulling together. It only made the pain worse, but if I could see this spell through, I would be fine. My heart was thundering in my chest, tears streaming down my face. I just wanted the pain to be over. I just wanted to be okay.

It seemed that the skin stopped inching together. Putting more power into the healing, I got it to move a bit farther, but again it stopped. Healing myself had never been so hard before, but I had never had such a serious wound. Perhaps that was normal. I had no way of knowing. Throwing as much power as I could into the spell, I grunted.

Though the pain subsided, it didn't leave me fully. I looked down and saw that though the wound was closed on the outside, inside I could feel that I was still bleeding, and infection would soon set in. Panic was beginning to creep in. I needed to heal myself. I needed to be okay.

“Come on,” I gritted my teeth, pressing down harder against the bullet wound. “Heal.” Nothing. I could do nothing. It wasn't healing.

I was feeling weak after the spell. Maybe I just needed to rest. I laid down and looked up at the stars, counting them with half-lidded eyes. Were the neighbors watching? Were they going to call the police, or silently let me bleed out?

Of course, I wasn't going to die by bleeding out, but they didn't know that. How could they, watching from their windows? All they knew was that I had been shot.

Sitting back up, I again pressed my hand against my stomach, but I knew. I knew that it was hopeless, and I was not going to heal it. I had the magic, but it wasn't working. Had they done something to the bullet? Had they somehow known they were shooting at a demon?

If they had Seraniel on their side, they very well might know about me. The bullet could have been filled with salt or bathed in holy water. Either option would leave me with a wound that wouldn't heal.

Would Seraniel really have done something to hurt me like that? Had he truly gotten so sick of me, that he would gladly give me up to human thugs? Gladly allow me to die.

It was an angel's duty to kill angels. Not fuck them. Perhaps he had decided to do what he was supposed to do all along, and put an end to me. In Hell, he couldn't have killed me, but since I was on earth… and since I was only there because of him… there was a good chance all of this had been the plan from the start. There was a good chance he wanted to kill me in order to secure his promotion.

It hurt, inside, to consider that. I had loved Seraniel, once. Against my better judgment and his own warnings, I had loved my natural enemy. Scott, too, could easily hurt me one day, if I lived. Was love worth the pain?

I attempted to stand, but immediately fell to my knees again. There was a lot of blood on the ground. A woman in a long white gown steps outside and takes a step towards me, but I hold out my hand. “I'm okay! Please don't get involved! Go back inside, and don't call the police!” I yelled.

The old woman listened to me, then watched from her window as I dragged myself out of the street and over to Scott's house. There was a trail of blood behind me. He would at least know where I had gone, with a trail like that.

Halfway there, I had to stop to throw up. The bullet was poisoning my blood.

I was going to die, and soon. There was no way to stop it. If I wanted to help Scott, I needed to do it quickly. We couldn't afford to wait any longer. It was okay if I died, but not before I finished what I had started.

With Seraniel involved, it became abundantly clear to me that I had as much to do with these murders as Scott did. We were a fucked up bunch. I smiled as I finally reached the porch, lurching myself up each step with my arms. I was feeling better, but I also knew that the relief would be short lived.

Soon enough, whatever they had used on the bullet will be coursing through my blood, and then it will be a race against the clock. I watched down the street, waiting for Scott to come back, listening for the sound of gunshots. All was silent. I willed him to come back to me safely.

Checking my stomach once more, there was a great bruise forming below the skin. If Scott were to see it, he would send me to the hospital immediately. We didn't have the time for that, and it would be useless. Human doctors don't know how to care for demons.

I was going to die. There was no getting around it. I had to just come to terms with it, and some day, Scott would, too. Sliding my fingers over the bruise, I weaved together a spell to hide it. What he couldn't see, couldn't scare him. When he returned, he would find me healed. It would be a miracle.

It hurt me to lie to him like that, but the truth would have done neither of us any good. A lie would put off a lot of grief that was better dealt with once their mission was done, and Joey was truly dead. Once she knew Scott was safe.

 

Scott

 

Running up to Elise, I grabbed her by the legs and supported her back. Picking her up, I brought her inside and set her on the couch, then ran around the house. Checking the closet, I couldn't find the bandages.

“Scott...”

The kitchen cabinets didn't have them either. They weren't under my bed. I checked the bathroom, then the closet again.

“Where did I keep them,” I grumbled, running into my office. I opened the drawer beneath my computer, then the one next to it. Nothing. “Fuck.”

Elise called for me again. “Scott, please,” she said, her voice annoyed.

“I have to find the bandages!” I called back out to her. My mind was frantically trying to remember where I had left them, when I had last used them. Was it when I cut myself while helping Antonio sharpen his collection of knives? Or maybe it was when I was cutting peppers for the chili for Saejima's monthly potluck...

“Would you just come out here and look at me, please?” She sounded sharp and annoyed. Doing as I was told, I stepped out of the office and watched as she lifted my shirt from her stomach, revealing her panties and then her stomach. It was covered in blood, but there was no longer a hole in it. There was no wound whatsoever.

“Wha… how?” I asked. “How are you healed?”

“I told you, I'm a demon.” She grinned at me, but I could see she was still in pain. Still, that it was healed was absolutely astonishing… and a little terrifying. There was little sense in denying that she had some kind of power, after seeing that. She had undoubtedly been shot, and she was undoubtedly healed.

At least mostly.

She had a hard time standing, at first, but eventually regained her leg strength. I brought her some chocolate and one of those sugary cold coffee drinks. “The coffee's going to be a lot of sugar. It's a bad habit of mine, but it'll help you feel better and help your body make more blood or… whatever. Look, I'm not a doctor. Just eat. And drink.”

She snorted, shaking her head with a laugh. “Alright.” Taking a bite of the chocolate, she looked up at me. Still beautiful, if covered in blood.

“You need to jump in the shower,” I said. She shook her head. “Seriously. You're covered in blood, you look like a walking horror show.”

“Nope,” she answered. “I'll change my clothes, but a shower can wait. We need to go find the bastard that shot me.”

I sighed, crossing my arms but knowing that it was pointless to argue with her. Because she was right. “Actually, about that, I did find something in those papers. The deed to a house, and the address where it's located. I think that's where Joey is hiding out.”

“Perfect!” She said. Her face was starting to show a little more color. Her eyes looked less glazed and painful. Taking a sip of the coffee, she made a face. “You were right, this is horribly sweet.”

Chuckling, I nodded. “So I'm going to call Antonio and Saejima. Maybe the new girl at the Black Diamonds, too. With their help, we can take them down easily.”

She frowned at me. “Scott, we don't have time...”

“Sure we do. I can call them, then they can meet us there. It takes like 5 seconds longer than just leaving right now, and it's way safer.”

“Fine,” she said, her voice sharp again. “Just hurry, please. I want… I just want to get this over with.”

With a purposeful nod, I stepped away and let her eat in peace. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Saejima's personal number first. It ringed 5 times, and then there was no answer.

The same happened to her business number, and to Antonio's cell phone. I tried them all two more times. No answer.

That was not good. In fact, that was incredibly bad. If they were hurt because of me…

No, I had to focus. I heard footsteps behind me, soft against the wooden floor, and turned to see Elise watching me. “No answer?” She asked. I nodded. “We should go, Scott.”

“I really think we need to wait for Antonio and Saejima.” I didn't want to do this without them. They deserved retribution as much as I did. Maybe even moreso, since they were truly innocent in all of this.

Elise stepped closer and took my hand. “No. We need to go, and find the guy that shot me. Please.”

“His name was Sloan,” I said. “He was the one who… it was his fault that Etta died.”

She nodded. “All the more reason to go make him pay. Don't make me beg, Scott, please.” Her eyes were so beautiful in the low lighting of the hallway.

“Okay, but tell me something, first.” Brushing a piece of hair from her eyes, I watched her expression.

“Go on,” she answered.

“What made you go outside? What were you trying to accomplish?”

She tilted her head down, then shut her eyes and let out a long breath. Her hand twitched in mine. “I thought I saw someone I knew. Someone I loved, once. And he looked like he was in pain.”

“You knew Sloan?”

She shook her head. “No, it was a trick of the lighting. I think they were trying to lure me out, somehow.”

Her eyes were wet, her face filled with both sadness and frustration. Although she always seemed to be in control of herself and her emotions, it shocked me to see that she clearly felt like she had lost control. She seemed like she had so much purpose, so much strength, and yet I could see in her eyes that she felt weakness.

Tilting my head down, I kissed her on the forehead. “You are so incredibly strong. I love you. I want you to know that, from the bottom of my heart, in case something happens.”

“Nothing's going to happen,” she said, that strength returning to her face. “And we should go. Before it's too late.”

I didn't know if she thought that Sloan and Joey would skip town, or if there was something else she was concerned about. She was right, though. We had to go, and soon.