I may not owe him anything, really, but I still owe him something, you know?
(Or maybe this whole act is just the manifestation of my guilt over Wallace.)
Which is why, with a deep sigh, I tug the bottle of blood from my bandages, pop the cork out, and press the glass rim against Lassiter’s lips, which are wedged open by the plastic tube. I carefully pour the blood into his mouth, making sure I don’t spill a drop. When the bottle is empty, I retract my hand and hide the little glass of miracle juice back in the same place. Then I wait. For thirty seconds. Sixty. Ninety.
Lassiter’s eyes flutter open. Crystal clear. As if he took a quick power nap and not a serious blow to the head. Slowly, he looks around, assesses his location, the life support, and me, sitting there in a wheelchair, looking like I got mowed down by a speeding train.
He stares at me, worried, a deluge of questions tumbling across his face. All of which I intend to answer.
I figure the best place to start is the beginning.
“Hey, buddy, glad to see you back in the waking world,” I say in my cheeriest voice, “because I have the craziest story to tell you.”
To Be Continued
IN DAY KILLER
Coming Spring 2018
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About Clara Coulson
Clara Coulson was born and raised in backwoods Virginia, USA. Currently in her mid-twenties, Clara holds a degree in English and Finance from the College of William & Mary and recently retired from the hustle and bustle of Washington, DC to return to the homeland and pick up the quiet writing life.
Clara spends most of her time (when she's not writing) dreaming up new story ideas, studying Japanese, and slowly reading through the several-hundred-book backlog in her budding home library. If she's not occupied with any of those things, then you can probably find her playing with her two cats or lurking in the shadows of various social media websites.
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Doom Sayer (City of Crows Book 4) Page 25