Part 15 (1/2)
”I did.” My mother stepped forward. ”He came highly recommended.”
”By who? The troll under the bridge? He couldn't spell his way out of second grade!” Cornelius pulled a wand out of his pocket. He wore an expensive gray suit, so I had no idea where he'd hidden it. He bopped Waldo on his now bald head. Waldo sobbed and begged for mercy. We all ignored him.
”No, it was one of the G.o.ds. He...” My mother frowned. ”Well, now that I think on it, he does have a reason to hate me.” She glanced at the ceiling. ”Oh, but he'll have even more reason when I get back up there.” I heard thunder and knew there would be quite a payback coming.
”I'll let you deal with your own issues, madam. I brought some supplies. Where's the victim?” Cornelius stared down the hallway. ”Oh, here he comes. I'm just in time I'd say or his brain would start boiling. No one survives that. Not even a vampire.”
I gasped. Jerry was being carried by two strong vampires. His skin practically blazed, so red from his fever I might not have known him except for his wild eyes. He wore only a pair of boxers. Apparently the men had given up trying to dress him or maybe he couldn't bear more clothes on his overheated body.
”If he dies, Waldo, I'll turn you into a dung beetle then crush you under my heel.” Cornelius stood over a sobbing Waldo then finally hit him with his wand again.
”Help me,” Jerry said, locking eyes on Cornelius. Then he pa.s.sed out.
Twelve.
They laid Jerry on the tile floor in Ian's lab, his hands on his chest. It was the only way to work on him, apparently. He was unconscious. Cornelius stood at a worktable. He muttered while stirring some things together that he'd pulled out of a purple velvet bag. He paused occasionally to drag Waldo over to point out something.
After each of his lessons, which I guess is what they were, he banged Waldo's head against Ian's workbench as if to get the information into the junior sorcerer's brain. Ian frowned, probably at the dents in his porcelain table, but he didn't say a word. He was too busy furiously taking notes on his computer.
”He looks bad, Gloriana.”
”Thanks, Mother. I really needed to hear that right now.” I sat on the floor beside Jerry, brus.h.i.+ng his damp hair back from his forehead. His fever had spiked again and it was all I could do not to scream at the sorcerer to hurry. They'd pushed ice packs up against Jerry's body but those kept melting and had to be replaced constantly. Finally I heard Cornelius approaching, his silk slippers and robe swis.h.i.+ng across the floor. I don't know when he'd changed clothes and didn't care.
”Move.” He didn't ask, he commanded.
I got out of the way, jumping up to watch and pray.
Cornelius paced in a circle around Jerry, chanting and tossing some kind of gra.s.s or herbs or whatever into the air. They smelled fresh, then bitter. A mist began to form above Jerry, like storm clouds gathering, swirling into a gray ma.s.s above his p.r.o.ne body.
I glanced at my mother and gave her a warning look. This wasn't the time for one of her displays of power. If she started to toss thunder and lightning around, I'd never speak to her again. She shook her head and kept her hands folded in front of her, apparently just as interested in the proceedings as Melanie, who darted around for the best angle, capturing the whole thing on video camera.
”All right. Now this is important. He must drink this elixir now.” Cornelius was obviously in his element. His eyes glowed, juiced sunbeams, and he raised his arms in their long sleeves toward the clouds he'd created. He began chanting something in a strange language. He gave Waldo, who'd crept closer to observe, a hard look and the incompetent sorcerer scurried back to a spot farther away. Finally Cornelius lowered the gla.s.s and faced me.
”You are this man's lover, the person closest to his heart in this room. Is that right? I believe your name is Gloriana?” Cornelius held out a gla.s.s beaker etched with symbols. Not one of Ian's I was sure. It held a few inches of a pale pink liquid.
”Yes. Gloriana. I will do whatever you need, sir.” I felt like I should bow or something but just nodded, stepping forward. If this would save Jerry, I would do whatever he asked. I felt a whisper in my mind.
”Careful, Gloriana. I have reason now to know these sorcerers can't be trusted.”
I turned and glared at my mother. As if I'd listen to her advice. ”Go ahead. What do you need me to do?”
Cornelius frowned at my mother, apparently a mind reader too. ”Good. You exchange blood with the victim?” He smiled as if this was a good thing. I liked his att.i.tude. No prejudice against vampires here. I took the time to give my mother a ”How about that?” look.
”Yes, of course,” I said, ignoring my mother's sniff. Had she said ”Disgusting”? This time I speared her with a warning glance. I was in no mood to be messed with and she'd better not interrupt again.
”Use this to cut yourself, then allow some of your blood to fall into the gla.s.s along with this potion I have mixed. I think it more likely he will drink it if he smells your essence in it.” Cornelius handed me a curved blade made of gleaming silver. It had a symbol on the handle, a crescent moon with an open eye staring from the center. Words in some strange language were engraved on the blade.
I didn't hesitate. I slashed my wrist and watched the blood flow into the gla.s.s.
My mother gasped. ”That's enough. Surely.” She rushed forward with a silk scarf and pressed it to my cut, s.n.a.t.c.hing the gla.s.s out of my hand.
”Yes. We don't want to dilute the mixture too much.” Cornelius patted my shoulder. ”I know you meant well, but a few drops from your finger would have served, my dear.”
”You think...Will this cure him?” I stood there while my mother tied the scarf around my wrist. It coordinated with my dress of course. Silly detail and so like her. I batted her away when she kept fluttering around me. I was already healing.
”We will see. Perhaps you'd like to give it to him. Speak to him. Coax him to drink.” Cornelius stirred the mixture with the blade handle then handed me the gla.s.s.
My hand shook as I dropped to my knees and lifted the gla.s.s to Jerry's lips. ”Jerry, please, wake up. I have something here that I hope will make you feel better.” I slid one hand behind his head, holding it up so I could wave the gla.s.s under his nose. He was so hot my fingers stung even with his hair cus.h.i.+oning them.
”Smell. This is my blood. You know you want it.” I swear his nose twitched. Or had that been my own wishful thinking?
”Let me help you.” Ian knelt on Jerry's other side and slid his own hands under Jerry's head. Smart man, Ian wore thick gloves now. ”Dip your finger into the beaker and slip it into his mouth. That should get him going. His fever has come down enough that it shouldn't blister you.”
”I'll take that chance.” I smiled in grat.i.tude and did as Ian suggested. He was being kind. Or was it just the doctor in him anxious to see if this worked? Whichever, I dragged my finger through the mixture and pushed it into Jerry's slack mouth.
Hot. Of course his mouth was hot, but I could take it. d.a.m.n it, why didn't he respond? I did it again, rubbing the liquid along his teeth. Finally, finally I felt some movement.
”His fangs are coming down!” I glanced at Ian.
”I see them.” Ian helped me hold the gla.s.s to Jerry's lips. Together we managed to pour the contents, a little at a time, into his mouth. When some dribbled out, I scooped it up and pushed it back in again. I was determined that Jerry get every single drop, even holding his mouth closed until he swallowed. When the gla.s.s was empty, Ian gently laid Jerry's head back on the floor.
”He should have a pillow.” I knuckled away a tear. ”Why the h.e.l.l doesn't he have a pillow?”
”Here, Gloriana.” My mother handed me a fluffy down pillow clad in an Egyptian cotton case, something that must have come from one of Ian's beds. Ian lifted Jerry's shoulders and together we settled Jerry on it.
”Why isn't he waking up?” I looked around and saw Cornelius, still muttering. He had an ancient leather-bound book in his hand and was paging through it. ”Do something!”
”Relax, child. Give it time to work. Feel his forehead. See if the fever is coming down.” Cornelius had on old-fas.h.i.+oned spectacles now, perched on the end of his nose. He stabbed a page in the book and moved to the workbench. He said something to Waldo and the man scurried after him.
”What's Cornelius doing, Ian? Shouldn't he be here, checking on his handiwork?” I touched Jerry's cheek. Was it my imagination or did he feel a little cooler? ”Take his temperature.”
”I will. And, as for Cornelius, now he's working on Campbell's memory problem. He thinks he may have a way to restore his past. I a.s.sume that's important to both of you.” Ian threw off his gloves, then pulled out his thermometer. He shoved it into Jerry's mouth, then rested the back of his hand on Jerry's forehead. ”Feels better, I think. And his foot jerked. I think he's coming around.”
”Oh, G.o.d, I hope so.” I couldn't think about Jerry's memory until I was sure Jerry survived this thing. The thermometer signaled and Ian pulled it out. ”What does it say?”
”He's better.” Ian grabbed Jerry's jaw. ”Wake up, Campbell. Talk to him, Glory.” He tapped Jerry's cheeks, harder than I thought necessary. I shoved Ian's hands aside.
”I will if you move.” I leaned down and kissed Jerry softly. ”Please, wake up, Jeremiah. I need you.” I kissed his cheeks then his eyelids. I felt them flutter against my lips. ”He's coming around!” His eyes opened and he stared up at me.
”Gloriana? What happened?” He closed his eyes again. ”Head hurts.”
”That's only natural after a fever like that. I have something I could give him for it, but I think we should wait to see what Cornelius comes up with.” Ian touched Jerry's shoulder. ”Campbell, hold up your hand.”
”Leave me alone, MacDonald.” Jerry turned his head toward me.
”Do it, Jerry. Ian is trying to see if the sorcerer's potion got rid of your flaming fingers.” I wasn't about to test his hands myself. At least his mouth hadn't burned mine. ”Jerry, will you touch something? For a test?”