Lost Library: An Urban Fantasy Romance (30 page)

Crouched just inside the bathroom doorway,
Max was closest to Sarah when she fell. There was no flash or sound. No indication at all that something had happened, other than her body lying still and pale on the ground. He couldn’t see any signs of life, but he sure as hell wasn’t leaving her where she was.

He scanned the basement
and the library entrance, but he couldn’t see any sign of Worth. The last sighting he had was Worth retreating into the library, blood trickling from every visible orifice.
What the hell had happened?
Moving with an efficiency and speed born of need, he retrieved Sarah and was back in the small bathroom with her in seconds. Placing her in the tub—the only space large enough for a prone body—he immediately returned to the bathroom entrance and continued scanning the basement.

Seeing no immediate signs of danger, he quickly returned to Sarah. If she was breathing, it was too faint for Max to detect.
At a quick glance, there were no obvious signs of trauma, no bleeding to stop or broken bones to splint. If she had internal or spinal injuries, well, he’d had no choice but to move her to a safer location. As he was moving to check her pulse, he heard Kenna on coms.

“
Frank has an update on life signs.”

“Go ahead.” He moved back to the bathroom door. He’d have to continue his evalu
ation of Sarah later. There wasn’t anything else he could do until everyone was safe.

“
Frank said there’s one dead. Also, one of the life signs just disappeared and then showed up next door. What the hell is happening over there? He’s also reading two questionable signs in the basement in addition to two healthy.” There was a crackle and then silence.

“Received,” Max
replied.

What the hell was questionable
supposed to mean? Critically injured, mortally wounded? He thought of Sarah, and the very faint pulse he had barely detected before he left her. He guessed Sarah wouldn’t scan the same as a healthy person, but just how badly she was injured, he didn’t know. They hadn’t discussed Frank’s talent in any detail; there hadn’t been time.

He reviewed the casualties mentally.
Finishing his tally, Max honed in on Worth. He wondered where the hell Worth had gone—because they were short one live body, and he had entered the basement far enough to see Lizzie and John. Clearly, Lizzie and John weren’t missing. Unfortunately, Max was pretty sure he also knew who the other questionable person was. Lizzie was kneeling, cradling John’s bleeding head in her lap.

Max approached
, moving quickly, handing her his top-layer T-shirt. “Use this. Apply direct, even pressure to the wound.”

Leaving Lizzie with John, he quickly moved into the library. After verifying the man inside was dead, he checked in with Kenna. “
All the bodies Frank listed are accounted for and Worth is our missing man. What’s your ETA at the front door?”

The body in the library had barely looked human, but there was enough—height, hair color—to clearly determine that the dead man was not Worth.

Turning to Lizzie, he said, “After what just happened… I’m not sure I know what happened. But according to the numbers Frank gave, we’re clear. Worth escaped, but everyone else is accounted for. How the hell did he get out? I should have seen him when he left. Lizzie!”

Max was speaking, but Lizzie wasn’t listening. Her focus was solely on John.

“What can I do?” She looked very briefly at
Max, then back again to the wad of cloth held firmly to John’s head.

“He needs to be conscious. Changing to
his wolf will heal him, but he has to will the change. And it needs to happen soon. Changing should knit the wound together again, but it can’t replace blood that isn’t there.”

“
How do we do that? Make him conscious?” she asked.

Max let out a deep breath
. “Get him to the healer as soon as possible.” Into the radio, he said, “ETA at the front door?” His voice was impatient.

“Two minutes,” Kenna responded.

He replied, “Sarah and John are both unconscious. John with a head wound. Sarah has no visible injury. Ask Frank if we can move either of them.”

“Stay where you are. We’re coming to you.”
Kenna’s voice sounded rushed and breathless.

John was hardly
indestructible, but it was hard for Max to think of his friend as vulnerable. He could heal himself
.
Practically with a thought.
Max certainly never envisioned that he would be the one walking away, if one of them was injured. He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but he suspected it was his bullet that had injured his friend. A ricochet—what were the chances?
Fucking magic.

As soon as Sarah and John
were stable, he’d sit Lizzie down and get some answers. But for now…

“Lizzie. Pay attention. Look at me. Where is Worth?”

Lizzie pulled her gaze away from John, then blinked. Her gaze finally focused on Max. “He’s gone. He just…he disappeared. He was bleeding, and then he was gone.”

She turned back to John. Max
recognized the signs of shock. Frank would need to look at her. It was enough to know that Worth wasn’t in the house, confirmed now by both Lizzie and Frank. He left her to meet Frank and Kenna at the door.

With his
head in her lap, Lizzie noticed a fine sheen of sweat on John’s upper lip. As she held Max’s T-shirt to the gash at his temple, she had a strange thought—she’d never seen him sweat. It was such a human thing to do. Like dying. Dying was very human, too.

Her eyes started to swim. She blinked frantically and took a deep breath. The coppery smell of blood filled her nose.
Head wounds bleed a lot. That didn’t necessarily mean it was serious. But he wasn’t waking up, and she couldn’t fool herself into thinking that was okay.

By the time Max returned
, with Frank and Kenna hurrying behind him, Lizzie was a mess of worry and tears. But she kept the T-shirt firmly pressed against John’s head. Her knees ached from kneeling; her hand and arm were tired from holding the same position for so long. Maybe three minutes, ten? She wasn’t sure. But she wasn’t moving.

Frank took a quick look at John then hurried back to the bathroom, near the basement entrance. He emerged almost immediately. Directing his comments to Max, he said, “She’s stable. Get her to the van.”

Turning to Kenna, Frank said, “Go with him. Stay with Sarah until we finish with John. Talk to her and tell her everything is fine. That she’s safe. I’m not sure she’ll hear, but…just talk to her.”

Max emerged from the bathroom with Sarah.
She hung from his arms, unmoving. Kenna worried her lower lip and nodded. She followed behind as Max started up the stairs.

Frank had already moved to John and was gently pushing at Lizzie’s hands. “You can let go
, Lizzie. I’ve got it. You can let go of the cloth.” Grasping both of her hands in his, he said, “I’m Frank. I’m a healer. I’m here to help John.” His simple sentences, combined with the firm pull of his hands on hers, produced the desired result. Lizzie gradually let go.

“Max told me to. That it would stop the bleeding
,” she explained. She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed important to tell this man.

Frank nodded as he looked at the wound. “I understand. Max was right. The bleeding has stopped.
” He caught her eye, then continued, speaking slowly and deliberately. “That’s good. Very good. I’m just going to help it a little more.”

Frank turned his full attention back to John. Placing his hand over the bloody gash, he close
d his eyes. Slowly breathing in, then out. Again. When he lifted his hand, the wound had closed enough to form a scabby surface.

Max returned. “Can we move him?”

Catching Max’s eye, Frank looked meaningfully at Lizzie. “Lizzie. You’re suffering from shock. I’d like to help you. Is that okay?”

Lizzie looked at Max, who nodded his head reassuringly. Then she replied, “Yes. But I don’t want to leave John.”

“That’s fine.” Frank held both her hands, blinked a little in surprise, then settled into his slow and even breathing. A few seconds later, Lizzie’s color was slightly improved, and her gaze clearer.

“What did you do?” she asked. “No
—it doesn’t matter. Thank you.” She smiled weakly at him. “What else can we do for John? Max said he needs to wake up to heal himself.”

She looked down at John, and she must have finally realized
that she was holding a nude man’s head in her lap. She turned a bright crimson. She bit her lip while she waited for Frank to respond.

Frank replied, “Yes. I’m surprised he’s not already awake. We’ll try some old
-fashioned human medicine.” He reached for a backpack she hadn’t noticed before, pulled out a thin blanket, and threw it over John’s still form. He then he pulled out a small packet and placed it near John. Breaking it in half, he moved it back and forth under his nose and then away.

“Argh
!” John woke growling and sneezing. Lizzie had never been so happy to see someone so grumpy.

As Lizzie hugged a sneezing, cussing John, Max turned to Frank and said, “Harrington?”

“On his way. I’d like to get Sarah back to London. Lizzie, you, and John need to stay here and keep an eye on the library. At least until Harrington and his reinforcements arrive.”

Nodding his understanding, Max
asked, “How did Harrington manage it? I thought jurisdiction and authority were an issue?” He kept glancing back at John, reassuring himself that his friend was truly all right.

Frank grimaced. “If I had to guess, I’d say
as soon as we left, he was on the phone with every contact he has within the major European packs, as well as the large spell caster families. As soon as confirmation of the library arrived, he was prepared to provide security. And we provided that confirmation. If ever there was a use for IPPC, this is it.”

Max said,
“I don’t get the politics. How does a Lycan like Harrington and a group that is based on pack cooperation get authority over a bunch of missing books?”

John looked up at that. “Sorry
. Not a Lycan. Thought I told you.” But he was pulled away immediately by Lizzie.

Frank filled in the gaps for Max, but he spoke in a rush.
“Harrington’s a spell caster from an influential caster family. He brought the packs together after the disaster in’09. IPPC isn’t a Lycan organization, that’s just how it started. It is the best—actually, the only—option for securing the library from Worth and others like him.” Frank checked his cell for the time. “I need to check on Sarah.” His face was full of worry. “I’m concerned. Waking her up won’t be as simple as an ammonia ampule. Her core magic has been damaged in some way.”

Max
nodded, a solemn look on his face. “When is Harrington expected?”

“Two hours at most. So if you could please keep an
y other uber-villains from hijacking the library until he arrives, that would be appreciated.” Frank picked up his medical bag and said, “I’m out of here.”

Waving Frank away, Max
turned to John and Lizzie and said, “Harrington can handle the hostages on the fifth floor, the hired help we restrained on the first floor, and…the bodies. I’m sure, with his contacts and resources, he can manage all of the necessary clean up. Hopefully, he’ll be able to help the hostages get back to their families as quickly as possible. All we have to do is keep an eye out for super villains in the interim. You guys up for that?”

Lizzie looked doubtful. “
Do you think it’s possible that word of the library has already leaked out to the public? Because Worth…” She stopped, her face turning a milky color. “He didn’t look so good. I don’t think he’s coming back soon. ”

Lizzie
closed her eyes. But that just made the images of a bloody Worth even sharper in her mind’s eye. She opened her eyes, and looked at Max and John. “Worth was siphoning her magic. And maybe more than just magic—I’m not sure. He did the same to John, but I…it stopped before….” She opened her eyes wide, as if she was trying to keep the gathering moisture from falling. “Can you still change?” she asked John, her voice edged with the beginning of panic.

“Since I’m freezing my
nearly bare ass off and my head hurts like one of my best friends just shot it, I’ll play wolf until you can retrieve my spare clothes.” With that, he changed, leaving the blanket to drift to the ground around his four feet.

Lizzie
felt all the air in her lungs rush out, the sudden relief making her light-headed. She wanted to touch him, to keep reassuring herself he was all right. Her worry must have been plain to him, because he shifted next to her and leaned slightly into her body, moving so her hand rested on his shoulder blades.

S
he grabbed at John’s coat, clenching the dense fur and letting it warm her cold fingers. Immediately, she felt better. “I need to tell someone about the women on the fifth floor.” She stopped suddenly, fingers tightening in John’s fur. “My family. They said they’d hurt my family if I didn’t cooperate. What about my parents? He had surveillance photos of my mom and dad.” Lizzie didn’t want to say Worth’s name out loud.