Wilde's Fire (Darkness Falls #1) (9 page)

“A neurotoxin,” I say, standing, ready to leave. “If I can get back home, I can probably get an antidote that will save him.”

Arland catches my hand before I can go anywhere. “I cannot risk your life by taking you there right now. Your screams brought a lot of unwelcome daemons to the area. My soldiers have been trying to fight them off, but for now, the danger is too great. I will have Flanna and Lann continue to monitor the surrounding areas every morning. I am sorry about your friend, but the most you can do for him now is keep him comfortable while the poison takes over.”

“I have to try. Please, take me back.” I whisper urgently to him.

Arland shakes his head.

I’m not going to win this one. If his purpose is to protect me, he’s going to do just that. Until he feels the circumstances are safe, I will not be able to see my family or save Brad.

“You won’t mind if I stay with him, then?”

Tugging my hand free, I leave, without giving Arland a second glance. I’m sure he spoke the truth, but the pain of knowing Brad is going to die is too much for me to bear, and that’s all I can think about now. I’ve already experienced the horrible, mind-numbing grief his death will cause me once; I don’t think I can handle experiencing that again. For now, I want to spend as much time with my friend as possible.

oughs echo through the base.
Brad
. I run from the kitchen to get to him.

The Healers work together to clean blood from his face and change his blankets. I catch only a glimpse of the crimson before they wipe it away, but I see enough to know his condition has worsened. All the strength I managed to gather throughout the course of today leaks from my soul, leaving me hollow. I stare at the alarming scene before me, afraid to step into the room.

“Would you like to be alone with him, miss?” an old man asks, his tired eyes full of pity.

My heart is heavy. “Yes, please.”

I sigh and take a few steps toward the bed.

The Healers leave the room. The old man shakes his head as he closes the door behind him.

I turn to Brad. He’s asleep. Curling up on the bed next to him, I attempt to sleep as well, but it’s impossible. For the longest time, he doesn’t move, making me think for sure, a few times, he might have died. But every so often, he draws in a ragged breath. When Brad breathes, I breathe.

All I can think about is how it’s my fault we’re here in the first place. If I’d told Brad about the light, or even put a little more thought into how weird it was that he couldn’t see the entry to that stupid cave, we might not have come here. But the way Arland told it, I didn’t have much choice. My eyes close, but the details of every error I made play across them.

Following the light into the cave was the biggest mistake of my life.

Brad’s body is so hot that I have to get out of bed. He’s soaked with sweat. I grab a chair from the corner of the room and place it next to the bed, then lay my head on the edge by his waist.

Time seems to stand still. An hour goes by—maybe two. Brad runs his fingers through my hair. I lift my head, groggy and confused by the overwhelming guilt, as well as the information Arland shared with me earlier. I shouldn’t have walked away from him so soon; there are other things I want to ask, other things I
need
to understand.

Brad’s expression asks the pressing question before he does.

“What’s happening to me?” He plays with the loose hem on the bed sheets.

“They said it’s a poison, similar to a neurotoxin. There’s nothing here to treat it, and it’s too dangerous right now to return home for medicines.” I want to be strong for him, but weakness reveals itself in my strained voice.

“I was prepared to die for you, Kate; I still am.”

I squeeze the edge of the bed for support. “I will try to get home after the daemons have either been killed off or left.”

“
Daemons
? The things that attacked us? Don’t!” Even though his face is swollen beyond recognition, his eyes are still my Brad’s. I know the look he’s giving me; he doesn’t want me to risk my life for him.

“Why? I can’t leave you here to die!” Tears mount an assault, but I hold them back—for now.

“I would rather die here, in bed, with you in my arms, than send you out there. The medicines probably won’t work. Please, promise me you won’t do anything reckless.”

“I promise not to do anything reckless,” I say, my voice flat.

He moans; the agonizing sound torments me.

“Shh, everything is going to be okay,” I say, pushing Brad’s tousled hair from his forehead and wiping his face with a cold cloth from the bedside table. The fabric becomes hot the instant it touches his skin. I remove the cloth, swirl it around the air, and then reapply. My attempts to cool him are futile, but I’d rather be busy. And if cooling him
does
help, then I’ll continue until he’s healed, if that’s what it takes.

Brad’s eyes close for a moment—as if he’s going to sleep—then pop right back open. “Did you know I wanted to marry you? From the very first day I met you, I’ve known I wanted to be with you forever. Promise me you’ll find someone who loves you the way you deserve; find someone who loves you like I do.”

He grabs my hand, squeezes it. Dropping the cloth, I cannot respond, cannot keep up the façade of strength. Tears race down my cheeks, pain fills my heart, and air refuses to fill my lungs. Giving an automatic nod, I grab the cloth again, dab Brad’s head, but remain quiet.

Two promises I cannot possibly keep, within five minutes of each other. This day keeps getting worse for us both.

Questions swim around the forefront of my mind. Would I have married him? Sure, I’ve thought about marriage, kids, and what kind of life I wanted to have, but I haven’t had a boyfriend before, so I haven’t considered who I might spend my future with. Would it have been Brad? I cannot see a life without him in it, in some fashion. I cannot fathom the depths of his love for me. Why did he never tell me? Why didn’t he ask me if I’d date him? Was he afraid my answer would be no?
Would
my answer have been no? The rambling questions pop up as fast as corn kernels in the microwave, leaving me as battered as the bag they pop in.

Brad’s eyes glaze over as he watches me think. I’m not sure what level of consciousness he’s in. A few times, his eyes roll back in his head, causing me to go into a panic. Before I scream for help, his eyes always come back to their proper place, looking at me. After he falls asleep again, I lie beside him and fall asleep, too.

Flashes of violent images set on a loop plague my dreams: the coscarthas attack Brad and me, killing us both. Arland jumps into a lake to save me from being pulled under by a snake-like creature, only to drown. Everyone I’ve met here at base is set on fire, bodies flailing on the ground before me. I’m forced to watch as their skin melts. Something—some
creature
—stabs a woman through the heart with a stake; a child screams at her feet.

I awaken, trembling with fear. Sitting up, I realize it’s not me trembling, it’s Brad.

“Brad! Help! Someone,
please
!” I jump off the bed and continue to yell, trying to get someone’s attention.

He convulses on the bed. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth. The irises of his eyes roll into the back of his head, revealing only white.

Arland bursts through the door, along with the two elderly Healers. He backs me up to the wall, blocking my view of Brad. I cry out from the innermost recesses of my heart as I watch my best friend’s body shut down.

The woman injects something into Brad’s arm with a large copper syringe, stopping the convulsions.

“Kegan, bring the other,” she says.

Kegan brings over another syringe, filled with something I hope will help Brad.

“This will place him in a deep sleep. He will not be in as much pain. We can take him out of it—if we find he is healing,” the old woman says, looking at Arland.

He hangs his head. “Go ahead, Shay.”

Arland returns his gaze to me and lets my arms go, when I stop fighting against him. I’m the definition of a mess. This is the beginning of the end. If they have to induce a coma, they’re worried the neurotoxin is attacking Brad’s brain.
If
he heals, they can bring him out of it, and it will be as though he were in a deep sleep, but
if
he does not heal, he will at least pass without pain.

Sinking to the floor, I rest my head against the wall. My heart already broke once, when I thought Brad died; now, my heart feels like it has been ripped from my chest.

Arland scoops me into his arms. He carries me into my room, where he lays me on the bed. Curling into a ball, I wrap my arms around my shins and bring my knees to my chest. There are no tears left, no emotions to express, no will left in me to live. I’m empty, and a terrible friend.

“How long have you two been mates?” Arland asks, stretching a wool blanket over me.

“He’s not my
mate
.
” The word makes me feel like the friendship I’ve shared with Brad is cheap.

“Cadman informed me you two were in each other’s arms, kissing, when they came upon you in the clearing. It is really none of my business. I am sorry to have asked. If you do not need anything, I will leave you.” Arland is already by the door.

“No,” I say, sitting up. I can’t handle this. My emotions are out of control. I don’t want Arland to leave. I don’t want to be alone. I feel bad for being so nasty toward him. He has been kind to me; he deserves to have that kindness returned. “Please don’t leave. I’m sorry I got upset.”

“I should not have pried into your personal affairs,” he says, still standing by the door.

“It’s okay. I might have asked the same thing if I were you. Will you stay for a while?”

“Are you sure you do not wish to be alone?” His voice is full of apprehension.

“I’m sure. How did Cadman see us kissing in the dark?” I ask, desperate to start a conversation before he walks out.

Arland grabs the rickety old chair from beside the dresser, then sets it down by the foot of the bed. “Our eyes have become accustomed to seeing great distances in the dark. It is not a trait we are proud of, but one we could not survive without.”