Damian's Oracle(25)
Darian.
“Do it,” he ordered. He handed Dusty the knife and pulled off the high-collared vest to expose his throat.
Dusty obeyed and punctured deep into his jugular. Damian shoved the other end of the tube into his neck, releasing his power. He sealed his skin around the tube, forced the flow downward, and placed his hands on her, forcing her body to accept his blood. Dizziness made him lean onto the table, and he loosed his regeneration powers.
Dusty watched in silence. The house was crashing down around them. He couldn’t Travel with a dead body; the White God’s magic only worked on living things. She needed to have a pulse.
“D!” Dusty shouted as a chunk of stone crushed a stainless steel cabinet.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Damian urged, watching for signs of life in the woman. He forced his blood out faster and faster.
“We gotta go!” Dusty yelled, slapping him on the back. “Now!”
He felt the flicker of a pulse and prayed it was enough. Damian carefully gathered the woman into his arms and closed his eyes. Dizziness washed over him, and he his body strained to Travel. Silence, and he opened his eyes to find himself kneeling on the NOVA Sector’s kitchen floor. Her eyes were closed, but color bloomed in her cheeks.
“D, put her down. Laney, get the defib!” Dusty barked.
Damian ordered his body to cease the transfusion and pulled the tube from his neck, healing the tear. He gently removed the tube from the Oracle and placed his hand over the wound to heal it. He touched her face, exhausted for the first time in years. He leaned against the cabinets behind him.
“Move, D,” Dusty ordered, snatching the defibrillator from Laney. He cut her shirt open while it charged and placed the paddles against her chest. Her body bucked, and her eyes flew open. The Oracle gasped.
Dusty felt for her pulse before resting against the cabinets opposite him. Damian met his gaze, and they sat in the kitchen, bloodied and breathing hard as they recovered.
“Jule’s gonna be pissed we didn’t invite him,” Dusty said at last and pulled off his gloves, tossing them.
“He would’ve tried to talk us out of it anyway,” Damian said. “He’s not as violent as we are.”
“I think you mean not as violent as I am. He gives me shit all the time,” Dusty corrected him. “Congrats, ikir. You are the proud owner of an Oracle. You figure out how to train one?”
“No fucking clue,” Damian admitted with a ruthless grin.
“May the gods help you. I sure can’t.”
“What is she?” Laney asked, returning to the kitchen. Damian rose and pulled Dusty to his feet.
“That, Laney, is my Oracle,” he said. “Watch her for a bit while we go back and clean up what’s left of Czerno’s goons.”
Laney’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked at the unconscious, blood-spattered woman.
“Yes, ikir,” he murmured and knelt, lifting Sofia off the ground. “I’ll take care of her.”
* * *
She stared at the sunbeams moving across the ceiling, not remembering where she was or how she arrived. Her memories wiggled their way out of the mud of her mind, and she sat upright. She was alive! She touched her face, her arms, her body. At the memory of the pain, she began to shake.
It’s over!
Yet the sensation of fire creeping through her remained. She suddenly realized the curtains were open, and the sun streaming into her window didn’t hurt her eyes. Her memories overshadowed, she threw open the curtains. She shoved the cracked balcony door all the way open. She bathed in the midmorning sun. Morning air had never tasted so wonderful! She didn’t have to wear sunglasses indoors anymore, didn’t have to hide from moonlight!
“You look good.”
She whirled, heart leaping at the sound. Han sat in the corner of her room nearest the door.
“I can go outside!” she exclaimed. “I’m cured!”
“More or less,” he said. She looked again at the sunlit courtyard beyond her window.
“I’m here again,” she murmured, troubled, and faced Han. “I’m … transformed?”
Han nodded grimly.
“Isn’t that good?” she prodded. “Isn’t it what you all wanted?”
“It is,” he confirmed.
“You don’t look happy.”
“It all turned out well, I guess,” he said at last. “As long as you’re okay?”
“I am. I can go outside again.” She sat to pull on shoes and saw the scars around her wrists, evidence of her fight against the bindings Jilian used to strap her onto the table. “Han, what happened to me?”
“It’s better you don’t remember.”