Chapter Nine
Demand
“Ow! That hurts, damn it!” Lucien sniffed his shirt. “And I smell like I’ve been on a three-day binge.”
“Hold still,” Iain ordered. He lifted the bottle of distilled alcohol and poured a little more over the wound in the back of Lucien’s head and neck. Lucien hissed from the burn and jerked away, earning him a slap on the arm. “I said hold still.”
He felt a prodding, followed by another lance of pain. There was the sound of more snipping, and a wisp of dark brown hair was tossed out in front of him.
“What are you doing? Cutting off all my hair?” He reached up to check for himself, but got his hand slapped away instead.
“What’s the prognosis, Doctor?” Yulen D’Jacques strode into the room. Atty was right behind him. They walked over to where Lucien was lying on his stomach, his back laid bare across several soaked towels. They both checked the deep scratches sustained by their son, then Atty walked around and hunched down to look him in the eyes.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m fine,” he assured her for the umpteenth time.
She glanced up at her husband. “He seems clean and clear.”
“But we won’t know for certain until we find out if the bat was the same,” Yulen remarked.
Lucien sighed loudly to get their attention. “Mom, Dad, I’ll be okay.”
Reaching out, the battle lord gave Lucien’s arm a squeeze. “You protected your mother from that creature. Thank you.” The man’s voice was heartfelt, and for the first time since the attack, Lucien felt his nose tingle as his eyes misted over. It wasn’t often that his father praised him with such obvious emotion for his actions.
There was some more prodding, and he winced. “What are you doing?” he demanded of the physician.
“When the bat scratched you, its claws dug into your scalp and neck, and some of your hair was buried into the skin.”
More alcohol was poured into the wounds. Lucien wasn’t hesitant about letting the man know how much it burned. “Be glad there was some local disinfectant to cleanse it. It also keeps the blood from clotting until I’m sure I’ve removed all the hair from the scratches.” A damp towel lightly patted his shoulders. “I think I got it all. Now comes the hard part.”
“Hard part? What hard part?”
“I have to sew you up,” Iain remarked.
“Crap.”
Another squeeze of his arm drew his attention back to his mother, who was still crouched at the head of the table. She gave him a watery smile. “Thank you for your sacrifice.”
“When will we know about the bat?” the battle lord asked.
Iain shrugged. “Dr. Maynard is examining it now. He’s supposed to let us know as soon as he finds out something. Now, hold still, Luc. This is going to bite.”
Gritting his teeth, Lucien braved the stitches to the back of his head. Fortunately, the scratches down his neck were less severe, and only needed to be dressed. Throughout the whole ordeal, his parents remained by his side, and that alone worried him. In the past whenever he or either of the other siblings were injured or hurt, it was usually Atty who stayed with them. But he couldn’t remember at any time when their father pulled watch.
Iain tied the ends of the bandage that crisscrossed between Lucien’s shoulders to protect the padding placed against his neck. “All right. I’ve done all I can.”
“What about his head? Aren’t you going to wrap it?” Yulen inquired.
“Not until I get word about the bat,” the young physician told them. “Until then, he can wear a cap over it to keep the padding in place.”
“Why’s that?” Atty asked.
“If the bat proves to be rabid, I’ll need to keep cleansing the open wounds until I’m certain I’ve removed all the toxin.”
“We leave tomorrow morning,” Yulen noted. “Should I send Luc back to Alta Novis?”
“No!” Lucien rose up on his elbows and gave his father a stern look. “I’m not returning to Alta Novis, and you go on ahead to Green River.”
Yulen gave him a darker look. “You’ll do as I say, or I’ll have you escorted under armed guard if I have to.”
Lucien sat up, fighting the dizziness. Lifting his chin, he faced his father and tried to match him scowl for scowl. “If it had been you or Mom who’d been attacked, would you return to the compound? Or would you press on?”
Yulen opened his mouth to answer, when Dr. Maynard walked into the room. The expression on his face wasn’t promising. “I just checked on the test results on that bat. It’s positive for rabies.”
“Then that settles it,” Yulen announced.
“No, it doesn’t,” Lucien challenged. “You’re not sending me back to Alta Novis. I don’t care what you order.”
Again, his father tried to argue, but Lucien pressed the issue. This time he wouldn’t cow. He couldn’t. Something inside him told him this trip would be his only chance to redeem himself. To prove he was worthy of the D’Jacques name and genes.
“I wasn’t bitten. I was scratched.” He emphasized the difference.
“That doesn’t mean you won’t be affected,” Iain argued. “Don’t forget, you also had some of its blood get into your eyes and mouth.”
Lucien shot him a dark look. “I didn’t swallow it. And even if I did, it doesn’t mean I’ll contract rabies.” Peering down at his mother, he tried not to plead. “I’m coming with you. It’s important that I do.”
“It’s more important that you go back to Alta Novis so Liam can tend to you in the event you come down with the water disease.”
“I’m not going back,” he stated as firmly as he could. “If I do get sick, I want to be with you. I want to draw my last breath with you beside me.” He stared at his father. “I want to prove to you that I am a D’Jacques. I need to prove that I am strong. If it had been you or Mom who’d been attacked, neither of you would have turned around and gone back. So don’t insult me by making me leave.”
His father’s eyes were hooded, the mask on his face unreadable. After another few seconds of silent contemplation, Yulen glanced at Atty. “We’ll see how you are in the morning. I’ll make my final decision then.” Without explaining further, he pivoted around and strode out of the infirmary.
With his father gone, Lucien checked back with Iain. “Now that we’ve gotten the test results back, is there anything more you can do? Other than keep dressing my wounds?”
“I can make a salve to hopefully draw out any toxins that may still be in the deepest cuts,” the young man admitted. “There’s also a potion I can put together for you to drink. Other than that, it’s a tossup if you get sick. And even if you do, there’s no way of knowing how you’ll be affected.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re half Mutah,” Atty softly answered.
“That’s exactly why,” Iain agreed. “We won’t know if your body will respond like a Normal’s, or a Mutah’s. Or if it’ll produce a whole new series of reactions we’ve never witnessed before.”
Lucien felt a pat on his arm. Atty leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Are you so determined to go with us to prove something to yourself? Or to prove yourself to your father? Because you know you do not have anything to prove to me.”
He stared into her worried blue-gray eyes. As usual, she’d seen deep into his subconscious and found the truth. “Please. Talk to Dad. Convince him to let me continue on this trip with you.”
“I’ll see what I can do. I will tell you this, though. If you were to sicken, nothing on this earth would stop me from being right there by your bedside. I promise you.”
He felt his face grow warm again. “I know, Mom. I know.”