by H G Lynch
I whispered, “Please.”
He blinked, took another look at me, and blanched. “Shit, Ruairidh, what did you do?” he hissed, dragging me into his room.
I swayed by the foot of the bed and sat down hard. “Catchi demon. Been hunting it. Killed it, but it stuck me in the gut with its spikes.”
Angus grew even paler, his eyes widening and panic flashing across his face. “Jesus, Ru! What were you thinking, going on a hunt without backup! You didn’t even have your sword! Shit!” He paced back and forth, tugging on his hair.
I forced a smile. “Well, whose fault is that? You took my sword, remember?”
He paused in his pacing and swore again, staring at me with terror and guilt in his blue eyes. I waved him off. “Not your fault. I was stupid. Need your help, though. You remember . . . what to do?”
He nodded, setting his jaw. Angus had always been better at patching Dad and me up after a hunt than at fighting the demons himself. He’d spent long nights studying anti-venoms and counter-poisons and reading medical textbooks. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to mix up some anti-venom for a Catchi sting.
He went to his wardrobe and shoved his guitar aside, pulling up the flooring. I grinned weakly, seeing that we had the same idea when it came to stashing things. Too bad the space in there wasn’t big enough to be hiding my sword. Angus rummaged about in the hidey-hole, and came back to me holding bandages, anti-septic spray, a syringe, and a couple of bottles of weird-looking liquid.
I eyed him curiously as he knelt in front of me. “You’ve kept that stuff all these years?”
He shook his head. “I got a new supply when I heard you were moving back in. I suspected I might need them at some point.”
He glanced at me, and I saw the barest hint of a smile there. I tried to laugh, but it hurt too much, and I bent over, cursing.
Angus frowned. “Take off your shirt and lie back.”
I did as commanded, although the pain increased with movement, and blood spilled out of the three pound-sized puncture holes in my gut. Angus saw the holes and shook his head, pressing his lips tight. He took the syringe and stuck it into the first bottle, sucking up the yellow-green liquid until half the syringe was full. He tapped it to get the air bubbles out, and then stuck it into the second bottle, filling the rest of the syringe with cloudy white liquid. He shook the syringe to mix the liquids, and then leaned over me.
“Hang on. This is going to hurt like a bitch.”
I nodded. I knew that much. I’d seen Dad inject himself a couple times before.
I closed my eyes as Angus poked the syringe into the flesh around the holes, injecting the anti-venom a bit at a time. At first, all I felt was the pinch of the needle, but then a slow prickling came over my skin like a bad case of pins-and-needles. Soon the pricking intensified until it felt like someone was ripping me apart with white-hot iron rods. Tears streamed down my face, and I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw popped. I tried to be quiet, so I wouldn’t wake Mum, but it was so hard not to scream as the anti-venom spread through my entire body, bringing the burning agony with it.
It felt as if the sting stretched on forever, and I may have blacked out for a minute or two, but the pain was still there when I came to. After what felt like an eternity in hell, the agony started to ease, rapidly cooling off and leaving my body tingling and numb. I was sweating, gasping, tears soaking my temples, but I pried my eyes open. Angus was sitting on the bed next to me, his hand on my hair as if he’d been stroking it. I hadn’t even felt it. His blue eyes were dark with worry, his forehead pinched.
“How do you feel?” he asked quietly.
“Like I’ve just been dragged naked through a field of razors.”
Angus nodded. “Here. Drink this.” He held out a shot glass full of amber liquid.
“What is it?” I asked, suspecting it was some foul-tasting thing he’d concocted—or even just his piss. It’d be a great way to get revenge for all the shit I’d pulled lately.
“Whiskey. I got it from the kitchen while you were writhing in agony. Thought you might need it.”
I chuckled hoarsely and propped myself on my elbow, taking the glass from him. I knocked back the drink, feeling it burn on the way down, but it was a good kind of burn that washed away some of the bone-chilling numbness. I handed the glass back to him and sighed, looking down at the holes in my stomach.
“It’s not that bad. The holes aren’t deep, and it didn’t hit any major organs. You got lucky this time. But I’m going to need to bandage that up.”
Angus lifted the roll of bandages, and I nodded. He sprayed the wounds with anti-septic spray first, which made me hiss at the stinging sensation. Then he slathered some kind of ointment around the wounds, slapped a gauze pad in place, and wound the bandages around my torso, fixing them in place with a safety pin.
He sat back, eyeing his handiwork, and looked satisfied enough. “There. It’ll take a while for those holes to heal up, so . . . no more fighting demons. At least until you’re healed. Okay?”
I was half asleep, exhausted, but I nodded. “Thanks.”
He sighed. “Come on. Back to your own room. I need to change these sheets since you got blood on them. I’m going to have to wash them before Mum sees them. She’ll pitch a fit if she sees all that blood.”
He grasped my arm and helped me to my feet. I swayed, leaning on him heavily, and he grunted.
“Christ, Ru, how much muscle are you packing these days? You weigh a ton.”
I snorted.
He glanced at me, a smirk clinging to his mouth. “Seriously. Are you on steroids or what?”
“Ha! No. Like I’d risk my balls shrinking. I’d hate to disappoint the ladies.”
He rolled his eyes as he threw open my bedroom door and hauled me over to the bed. I collapsed onto it, rolling over onto my back, and groaned at the bliss of being horizontal again. Angus went and closed the window, shut the curtains, and hovered by my bedside for a minute.
I peered at him through one eye. “Yeah?”
Angus chewed his lip, shifted from foot to foot, and looked at everything but me before saying, “I know we’ve got issues, and I’m not saying I forgive you or anything but . . . don’t get yourself killed, Ru. It would wreck Mum, and . . . I’d miss having someone to hate. Alright?”
I smiled. It was the closest thing to a truce that I was going to get, at least for the time being. “Alright.”
He jerked his head. “Good. So . . . night.”
“Night, Angus.”
He strolled out, shutting the door quietly behind him, and I closed my eyes. Despite the terrible turn the night had taken, I was glad I’d killed that demon, and I figured it was almost worth getting poisoned for that one moment of camaraderie with my brother. It was just like old times; me getting hurt while on a hunt, and him worrying about me and fixing me up before Mum could see.
I drifted off quickly, completely and utterly worn out by the night’s event, and for once, I didn’t have a single nightmare.
Chapter Fifteen
** Islay **
Ruairidh wasn’t at school on Monday. When I asked Angus why, he’d said Ruairidh was really sick with a stomach bug. I wasn’t sure I believed him though, because he wouldn’t meet my eyes when he said it, and he didn’t have the venom in his voice that he usually did when he spoke about his brother.
In fact, Angus looked exhausted, with circles under his eyes, and he wasn’t his normal, bubbly, charming self. I tried to ask what was wrong, but he just dismissed me, which wasn’t like him. I gathered that something had happened between him and Ruairidh over the weekend, but Angus wouldn’t tell me anything.
I was still worrying about him when I made it to my psychology lecture.
Ashley sat right next to me, and as the class got under way and Ms Harbor started talking about Freud, Ash leaned over and whispered to me, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something, and Angus’s not here now, so spill. What’s he like?”
I blinked, confused. “Angus? You know what he’s like. He’s just tired today.”
She glared at me from behind her glasses and waved her hand. “Not him. Ruairidh. I know you’ve been tutoring him. Thanks for not telling me that, by the way. I had to find out from Angus that you were getting all cosy with his big brother.”
I shook my head. “I’m not getting cosy—”
She made an impatient face. “What. Is. He. Like?”
I bit my lip, glancing around the room to make sure nobody could hear us. What was Ruairidh like? Dangerous was the first word that came to mind, but while that was true, it wasn’t all that he was. He was also funny and smart, and a little bit broken. He had a soft side, and he could be gentle and kind when he wanted to be.
Finally, I whispered, “He’s . . . intense.” That seemed like the right word for Ruairidh. He was very, very intense.
Ash grinned, showing off perfect teeth. “Intense like a serial killer? Or intense like you know he’d be insanely good in bed?”
My face heated, and I gaped at her in shock. “Ash!” I hissed. Although, I couldn’t deny she was probably right. Ruairidh just had that cocky air about him that let you know that if you let him into your bed, he’d make it well worth your time. And I couldn’t believe I’d actually just thought that. Dammit.
Ashley gave me a hard stare, pointing at me with the end of her blonde braid. “What? You can’t tell me you’d honestly say no if he gave you one of those smouldering stares and told you he wanted to jump your bones.”
I spluttered for a second, my cheeks scorching. I didn’t know how to answer that, which was so wrong. The answer should have been obvious. In the end, I just muttered, “Fuck. Ruairidh would say ‘fuck.’ Not ‘jump your bones’.”
Ash’s dark hazel eyes widened, and she grinned. “Is that a yes?”
“A yes to what?” I feigned ignorance.
She laughed. “Oh my God, you want him!”
I covered her mouth with my hand, eyes wide. “Shh!” I hissed, glancing around to make sure nobody had heard. “Don’t be stupid,” I grumbled.
She peeled my hand away and whispered, “You’re blushing! I’m right, aren’t I? You totally want to fuck Ruairidh!”
I put my head in my hands, hiding my red face. I was a bad liar most of the time, and I couldn’t lie to Ashley at all—she could see right through me. So, without lifting my head, I murmured, “Okay, okay, I find him attractive. But so does every girl in school.”
“Not every girl in school is tutoring him. Spending that extra quality time with him.” She giggled, and I glared at her through my fingers.
“Yes, because Maths is so sexy.”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “I bet he could make it sexy. You could do the whole teacher-student role play—”
“Jesus, Ash! I’m not sleeping with him!”
Her eyes went round, and I realised I may have said that a little too loudly. I glanced around the class to see everyone staring at me, and I blushed beet-red. I bowed my head, hiding behind my hair, and gave Ash a scorching glare. Ms Harbor cleared her throat and tapped the chalk on the board to get everyone’s attention, thankfully not calling me out on my embarrassing outburst.
When everyone returned to facing front, Ash leaned over and whispered, “It’s probably best you and Ruairidh aren’t . . . fucking. That would really piss Angus off.”
I stared at her until she shrugged and looked away. I put my head down on the desk and tried to forget about Ruairidh for the rest of the lesson.
Ash and I were eating lunch at our usual table when Angus came storming over, looking as if he’d just had an unnecessary colonoscopy—his expression was a mix of pain, disgust, and anger. He slammed his bag down in the seat opposite mine and glared at me so hard, I thought my brain might fry.
Ash lifted her bottle of Pepsi and asked, “What’s your problem? You look like someone just kicked your puppy.”
He didn’t even glance at her. His glower was fixed on me as he asked, not quietly, “Are you sleeping with my brother?”
Ash choked on her drink, and I patted her on the back, my face red. Not just with embarrassment, although there was a lot of that since everyone in a two-metre radius of our table stopped talking and stared at us. I was also massively angry.
I got to my feet and said, “Ash, look after my bag. Angus, can I talk to you in the hallway. Please.”
I stalked out of the canteen without waiting for his reply, but I could feel him following me, like a thundercloud over my shoulder. As soon as we stepped into the empty hallway, I turned around and slapped him hard across the face. “You bastard! How could you do that to me? How many people do you think just heard you ask that? The rumours that are going to spread . . . .” I shook my head, gritting my teeth. “Dammit, Angus!”
He touched his cheek where I’d slapped him, but he still looked angry. “You haven’t answered my question. Are you sleeping with Ruairidh?”
I threw my hands up, ready to scream. “No! I’m not fucking your brother, Angus!” I yelled, loud enough that half the people in the canteen probably heard me.
He flinched at my crass language, and his blue eyes heated like gas flames. “Are you sure about that? Because you’re starting to sound an awful lot like him.”
I almost slapped him again. “Yes,” I hissed through my teeth, “I’m sure. I’m pretty sure I’d remember giving up my virginity to your fucking, pig-headed brother.”
“Then why is everyone saying you are?” he asked, his voice only slightly softer.
Breathing deep breaths through my nose, I looked away. I knew that outburst in History would cause trouble. I was going to have to slap Ash next. “I don’t know,” I lied. “Because they’re gossip whores who love to spread shit and cause trouble?”
His brow furrowed, and some of the anger drained from his face. “So there’s nothing going on between you and my brother?”
I sighed. “No, Angus. Nothing. I’m just his tutor.” Not technically a lie. There was nothing going on between Ruairidh and me. No need to mention that I was starting to think I wanted there to be something going on.
Angus let out a long breath of relief and slumped against the wall. Now that he was calmer, he had the decency to at least look ashamed of himself. “Shit. I’m sorry, Iz. I just . . . when I heard what the guys were saying about you . . . I kind of lost it.”
I said nothing. I wasn’t forgiving him that easily. The consequences of his little show in the canteen would be far-reaching. People would be talking about Ruairidh and me for weeks, watching us whenever we were in the same room to see if we made sexy-eyes at each other. Not to mention, half the girls in school would be gunning for me if they thought I’d gotten Ruairidh into bed when they couldn’t.
Still furious, I made a sound of disgust and walked away from Angus, barging back into the canteen and ignoring the chorus of giggles and whispers around me.
** Ruairidh **
I took Monday and Tuesday off, pretending to Mum that I was sick, when really I just needed to relax and give my wounds some time to start healing. By Wednesday, though, I was bored of lying in bed and eating chicken soup. So I hauled my arse up and dragged myself to class.
As soon as I walked into Maths on Wednesday morning, the entire room went eerily quiet, and I felt everyone’s eyes on me. Well, almost everyone. Only Angus and Islay weren’t looking at me, but staring down at their desks. I met Ash’s gaze and raised a questioning eyebrow. She just blushed and looked away, nudging Islay and whispering something to her. I frowned. What the hell is going on? I wondered as all eyes followed me to my desk. I hadn’t even attracted that much attention on my first day here.
I pretended to ignore the stares and sat in my chair carefully, trying not to pull on my wounds, which were starting to close up amazingly quick thanks to whatever was in that ointment Angus had slathered on me. But they were still tender, and I’d been wary walking through the hallway, avoiding jostling shoulders and jabbing elb
ows.
It wasn’t until after lunch that I finally heard the new rumour that was going around. The information came courtesy of Nate, a guy in my Biochem class. He sidled up to me casually just after class ended, while everyone else was heading for the door.
“Hey, Ruairidh,” he said, jerking his head in a “sup?” gesture.
I eyed him curiously. He’d never spoken to me before, and I had little interest in making friends.
“Nate,” I said flatly, waiting for him to blurt out whatever was on his mind.
Finally, he glanced at me sideways and asked, “So . . . is it true? About you and Islay?”
I blinked. “Is what true?”
He grinned. “Oh, come on, man. Don’t play dumb with me. Is it true you’re banging her?”
My eyebrows went up. “Say again?”
He frowned at me. “Everyone’s talking about it. Apparently, she was talking to Ashley about it in History and some people over heard. Then at lunch, your brother came over all pissed off and asked her straight out if she was sleeping with you. She dragged him out of the canteen, so nobody knows what she said after that, but Angus looked furious. Word is she was sleeping with him first, and then you came along and . . .” Nate shrugged.
I curled my hands into fists to keep from punching him in the face. Fuck. No wonder Angus had been avoiding me since Monday. No wonder Islay wouldn’t look at me in Maths. Jesus, rumours were such a pain in the arse.
Taking a deep breath, I stuck my finger right in Nate’s face, watching his eyes widen, and I snarled, “Listen to me, ‘cause I’m only going to say this once. If you ever talk about Islay, or my brother, like that again, I will personally wrap your tiny nuts around a red-hot poker and shove them up your ass. You got me?”
Nate paled and nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, sure, mate. Whatever.”
“And tell your buddies the same thing. If I hear one more word about me and Islay, or Islay and my brother, you all get the nutcracker treatment.”
Nate scrambled off, red-faced, and I shoved a hand through my hair. Christ. I was going to have to talk to my brother, and to Islay. Yeah, ‘cause that’s going to be a fun conversation, I thought bitterly. I’d be lucky if Angus and I didn’t end up having another fight—and if Islay would ever talk to me again. Shit.