by Janie Marie
Jane panted; her energy seemed to drain with every beat of her heart. The wound on her arm was much more severe than she’d expected. It was only a scratch, but it was deep. She had not been hurt as an immortal yet, but the others appeared to be healing from their injuries. She wasn’t.
The monster growled, and a feral hiss escaped her lips in response. Her vision tunneled, focusing on the creature she’d been terrified of earlier. She was her own monster now. She wanted destruction.
She sliced across its chest, excited to see the muscle tear. But the wolf took her by surprise and hit her across the face with its clawed hand. The blow stunned her, and her face began to throb.
She turned to swing again, but the beast knocked her sword from her grasp, then grabbed her by the throat. It lifted her right off the ground and pulled her close to its horrifying jaws.
Thrashing in its hold, she delivered punch after punch to its massive head until it finally dropped her to the ground. She grabbed her throat, coughing painfully and went to stand so she could ready herself for the next attack. She just had to keep him off long enough for the others to reach her.
As she began to straighten, a powerful blow to her chest forced all the air from her lungs. A silent cry formed in her throat as tears burned her already watery eyes. She tried to breathe, but she couldn’t.
The wolf snapped its jaws in her face. Somehow, Jane didn’t flinch. She grabbed and held the wolf’s wrist to hold it in place as it began to pull away.
Fury pulsed through her body and her mind gave over to something else…
With her free hand, she pulled the knife David had given her earlier. Finally, she produced sound, and it was the loudest roar she’d ever heard. Everything blurred between black and white, but she continued to yell and plunged the dagger straight into the monster’s heart.
Fire rose inside her, and she impaled the infected werewolf into the tree behind him.
At the sound of a loud roar, David watched an enormous wave of silvery blue energy shoot toward him, knocking him down. Nothing was safe. It exploded in all directions, knocking everyone to their backs. The force of the blast bent trees; some even snapped in half while buildings rattled and windows shattered. Even the small house nearest them had been completely blown apart.
Everyone looked around in shock before they pulled themselves up to resume battle.
David quickly searched for Jane in the chaos. He didn’t know what the light was, and he needed to find her. He should have never left her.
Movement caught his eye, and he turned to see Lancelot scramble to his feet and retreat. Always a coward.
David growled but kept searching for Jane again while his brothers reentered battle with the confused wolves. It didn’t take long to find her.
He smiled, proud and relieved to see her standing. Her back was to him, and she staggered sideways to reveal an impaled wolf that, by the looks of it, had been blown to pieces. Nearly all the skin was peeled away. Nothing but muscle and bone remained.
David stood up, and his smile fell.
Jane turned to face him. Her pained and confused expression didn’t make sense until she removed her hand from her chest and looked down. Dark, red blood filled a gaping hole in her chest.
He looked back up to her face in complete terror.
Crying, she looked like she was trying to speak, but instead, she coughed, spilling far too much blood from her mouth before crumbling to her knees.
“Jane!” David ran to her as she slumped to the ground. He reached her side and turned over her broken body.
“No!” he shouted, seeing the gruesome hole in her chest. Blood pumped out of the wound and poured down the sides of her body. He put his hands over it to stop the bleeding, but it was too wide for him to cover.
“David,” she whimpered.
“Hang on, Jane,” he said. She cried out when he pressed down on the bloody wound. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.” Tears stung his eyes when she screamed for him to stop. “ARTHUR! BED!”
He was completely oblivious to the others while they finished off the last of the wolves. All he could do was stare into Jane’s frightened eyes as she continued to cry, their beautiful hazel color quickly swirled from one shade to the next.
“Dear, God.” Arthur dropped to his side. “David, let me see.”
David shook his head no. “It’s too deep. Why isn’t she healing?”
Arthur looked at the mangled body nailed to the tree and found a blood-soaked silver hand hanging at its side.
“It’s silver,” Arthur said in complete fear. “She probably has pieces lodged inside her.”
David’s heart stopped for a moment while Arthur looked around franticly. Never had he known Arthur to lose his composure, but David was witnessing a scared king. It shattered his hope that she would be okay.
Gawain fell to his knees on her other side and lifted her limp hand. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking as she sobbed louder.
David’s heart was being crushed. The others gathered around them. “NO!” he roared when someone tried to pull him away.
They all had cuts and bruises that were slow to heal. Obviously, Jane’s wolf wasn’t the only monster that wore a poisonous contraption.
Jane’s cries quieted, and her eyelids began to shut.
“No, Jane. Stay awake, baby,” David begged, darting his panicked eyes between hers. “Here, take my blood.” He offered her his wrist, but she barely opened her mouth. He raised his arm and bit, then held his bleeding wrist over her lips. “Drink!”
A few small gulps took all her strength, but it was no use. She was already choking on her own blood.
Arthur yelled orders out, but David didn’t listen. He only looked away when Bedivere arrived and pushed his hands away to begin working on her wound.
Jane’s eyelids closed again and his blood began spilling out of her mouth.
“No, Jane! Stay with me. Please don’t leave me.”
Her eyes fluttered open again and locked onto his. He’d never felt so much pain in all his life.
“Don’t leave me—please, baby,” he whispered, caressing her hair with his bloody hand. “I can’t lose you.”
Arthur sent Tristan and Bors to their camp so they could prepare for Jane. Kay and Lamorak’s teams were to stay and clean up, and the rest would help transport Jane.
Arthur squeezed his shoulder. “David, we need to move her back to camp. The silver needs to be removed for her to stand any chance of surviving.” David didn’t respond and kept his gaze on Jane. Arthur sighed and looked over at the others. “Get ready to move her.”
David didn’t look away from her face. He hoped she at least knew he was there. He didn’t know if she could tell what was happening anymore. All she did was blink her watery eyes every few seconds.
“Please, my love,” he whispered. “I only just found you.”
She was fading quickly. He knew she couldn’t hear him anymore, but he said the words he had wanted to say the first moment he held her. “I love you, Jane.”
Her eyes shut.
Arthur leaned down. “She heard you.”
A WHOLE NEW KIND OF CHAOS began once David reached the house.
With Bedivere still applying pressure on Jane’s wound, they made their way to the bedroom where Tristan and Bors had placed a table, waiting with several bags of blood to be administered intravenously. Emergency medical supplies were lined up on a separate table they had dragged in, creating a makeshift emergency room.
David laid her down, staring at her pale face until Bedivere pushed him out of the way. His friend went to work immediately, tending the gaping hole in the center of her chest.
Tristan inserted a catheter into her arm, and after he was done, Bors hooked up the line to start the transfusion.
David didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even realize he was only standing there until Arthur was pulling him to a chaise and lifting his legs. “Gawain, let’s draw his blood.”
Gaw
ain was there within seconds, handing Arthur a 16-gauge needle and tourniquet. Arthur inserted the needle in the vein near the elbow while Gawain attached the flexible bag to hold the blood.
“Raise your arm,” Arthur said.
David followed instruction and the bag started filling immediately.
Bors placed an oxygen mask on Jane and wiped the blood from her face while Tristan prepared sedatives to keep her out so they could work. They didn’t have the equipment to put her under anesthesia, like she should be, so they improvised.
“Silver fragments are lodged in her chest,” Bedivere muttered. “Her sternum is fractured and some ribs are broken. Somehow he missed her heart, but she has a lacerated lung. I need to put a chest tube in to drain the blood and air. That should stabilize her long enough for me to remove the silver fragments. Her spleen is ruptured, too. It should start to repair after I get the silver out.” He paused, letting out a frustrated breath. “She’s just lost so much blood. It might not be eno—”
He stopped talking and set to work, with Bors and Tristan elevating her and maneuvering her arm behind her head. Bedivere put on gloves while Geraint assembled the drainage system. After Bedivere was ready, he identified the incision line with a marker. Tristan then handed him a needle, and Bedivere injected the local anesthetic solution for the initial incision. She had already passed out from pain, but they all knew she could wake at any moment.
Getting a longer needle, Bedivere delivered the anesthetic to a wide area. Blood and fluid aspirated into the syringe. “Ten-blade,” he said.
Tristan handed it to him, and Bedivere made a small incision along her rib.
“Kelly clamp.” Bedivere took the clamp and used it to dissect a tract in her tissue and then stuck his finger in the incision before adding more local anesthetic. He then used a clamp to pass through the muscles, twisting it with force that made David’s stomach turn.
Bedivere opened the clamp and pulled it out. It was a gruesome process, but he couldn’t look away.
When David tried to stand, Arthur pushed him down. “Just wait. Let them finish and then you can go to her.”
David nodded as Bedivere inserted a tube through the incision. After he finished, Geraint attached the tube to the drainage device. Bedivere then sutured the tube in place, and they finished by taping gauze to support it.
Bedivere finished his work on the tube, and Bors lowered her back onto the table. He arranged a cloth over her exposed breasts but left the massive wound accessible.
Arthur helped David to his feet and led him to a chair near Jane’s head. He sat, then Arthur went to help Bors lift a drape, blocking his view of her wound.
Gawain handed the first bag of David’s blood to Geraint to hook up to Jane’s IV line.
“Should I start another bag?” Gawain asked.
“No, let him recover before he gives more,” Bedivere answered without looking up.
At first, David was hesitant to touch her, but he finally reached up and brushed back the bloody hair from her forehead. Most of her face was hidden under the oxygen mask, but he still saw his Jane. There weren’t enough words to express how sorry he felt for not protecting her or how much he loved her, so he kept smoothing her bloodied hair back and tried his hardest to ignore the sounds around him. Her shattered ribs grinding against each other as she struggled to breathe made that impossible, though.
Arthur pulled her limp hand out from under the drape and put it in his. “She can feel you,” he murmured before leaving the room.
David caressed the back of her clammy hand with his thumb and lifted it to his lips, placing a kiss there. He was barely aware of what the others were doing to her. He heard Bedivere muttering a few words every now and then, but the actual words didn’t make any sense.
When a sucking noise sounded, he looked over to see Tristan suctioning blood from her chest wall. The sight of how much blood she was losing made his eyes burn. He didn’t know how she was still alive.
He opened his mouth to ask Bedivere if he really thought she’d make it, but a small groan made them all freeze.
“She’s waking up,” said Bors.
“Give her morphine,” Bedivere instructed him. Bors nodded and injected it through her IV.
David felt her fingers moving in his hand and looked down to see her eyes fluttering open as another groan became muffled under her oxygen mask.
He leaned over her, placing his hand on the side of her face. “Jane, it’s all right. We’re giving you something for the pain. Bedivere is fixing you up.” He stroked her hair, and she moaned out again. “I know it hurts, baby.” He kissed her forehead. “Just hold on. You’re doing great.”
She focused on him for a few seconds; then her eyes rolled back as her body began to convulse. He panicked, watching her muscles spasm for a few more seconds before stopping completely.
“Jane?” he whispered.
Her head rolled to the side.
“Relax.” Bedivere stepped closer and checked her pulse. “It’s all right. She just passed out from the pain.”
“I thought you gave her something!” David snapped, carefully positioning her head again.
“She has a hole in her chest, David,” Bedivere said matter-of-factly as he went back to work on Jane’s wound. “She’s in shock—morphine is only going to do so much. I think she will stay out this time. We can search the hospitals for more drugs if we must, but I have got the fragments out now. I’m going to close her up and dress her wound. Get more blood in you so we can draw again for her. She’s not out of the dark yet.”
After a while, Arthur returned to the room when they were wrapping her wound. “How did it go?”
Bedivere turned to look at Arthur. “As well as it could, given the conditions. This is the most severe injury I have ever attempted to treat. I don’t have the equipment I would like, but this is the best I can do. I am going to keep her sedated and give her morphine while she heals. I’m still worried about her breathing. I know the rules change with donated blood from Others, but she already has a lung injury—they may still react to the blood transfusion and shut down. Plus, she’s in shock. We need to put her on the bed and get her warm.”
Arthur patted Bedivere on the shoulder. “I know you boys are doing your best.” He walked toward David and handed him a glass. “Start drinking.” He was about to refuse, but Arthur spoke again. “She needs you to be strong. Drink. We will draw more blood for her soon.”
Arthur was right. He could not afford to fall apart. David took the glass offered and drank.
He glanced over at his best friend. Gawain was wiping the blood from her face with a wet cloth. In a way, David was angry that Gawain left Jane in the battle, but he couldn’t blame his friend. She was his Other, not Gawain’s.
David had promised to keep her safe, and he’d let her down at the first chance he had to show her how great he was. At least Gawain had tried to get to her. Unlike him who wouldn’t leave the fight with Lance.
I’m the worst fucking soul mate to ever exist, David thought, not caring his brother-in-law was nearby and no doubt reading his thoughts.
Tristan and Bors removed the tarp that had been blocking the wound from his sight. He saw her bandages and the chest tube sticking out of her right side below her armpit. Swelling and bruising were visible along the edges of the bandages. The pink tinge appearing on the white cloth and tape hinted at the damage that lay beneath it.
Tristan covered her with a blanket. “Let’s move her to the bed.”
David didn’t want them to hurt her, but he didn’t want her on a hard table. He stood as the others took positions around her, grabbing the sheet under her.
“Lift,” said Bedivere.
David kept her head and arm still as they carefully carried her to the bed. After they had her where Bedivere instructed her, they pulled out the bloody sheet they’d used to carry her.
“She’s lost too much,” said Gawain, staring at the bloody towels and blankets covering the
table and floor. “How much blood did she lose, Bed?”
“At least forty percent of her blood volume, probably more.”
“She’s not going to make it,” Gawain said. “She’s going to d—”
“Shut the fuck up!” David yelled, his body shaking. “She’s not going to die!”
Gawain roughly shoved the table out of his way. “We shouldn’t have brought her. Look what they did to her! Lancelot made zombie werewolves. She wasn’t ready for that.”
“If you are only going to cry, get the fuck out of here!” David snarled, baring his fangs.
Arthur gestured for Tristan to take Gawain out of the room, and Geraint started to clean up the mess while Bors and Bedivere fixed several blankets around Jane, adding heated packs to help warm her.
Arthur stared at him for a few moments. “David, you need to rest.”
David watched Gawain leave the room, then looked back to Jane. “I will not go rest. If something happens, I want to be with her.”
“He didn’t mean what he said,” said Arthur. “He’s worried.”
“What if he’s right?” David asked. “I should have taken her away. Lance built an army greater than we could have imagined. He led us into a fucking trap. Once he saw her, he knew she was my—”
“David, calm down,” Bedivere said. “There is nowhere she could have gone, and she would have fought you every step of the way if you tried to take her far from her children.”
Arthur nodded. “He’s right. We know for some reason the dead are drawn to her. Since we are too, it’s safe to assume that Lance is as well. He would have followed her. She’s been fighting by herself for months. She has always been destined to battle beside you.”
David growled and turned to Arthur. “But we all know newly made immortals get ripped apart if they face a pack. We should have scouted longer—been more certain of their numbers.”
Arthur laughed. “Do you think she would have been thrilled to wait until a pack that size came close to her family?” David looked back to Jane. “You are looking for what-ifs. What happened, happened. Yes, she’s lost half the blood in her body, but she’s one of us. She has the advantage of us adding your blood, and with the silver out, she’s healing.”