Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Bronte didn't know what was going on. Her vision was blurry, her ears rang, and all she could feel was agonizing pain in her shoulder.
Percy held the blonde close to him, his heart beating out of his chest. "B? You okay?"
"Huh?" she asked, her head slowly turning to look at him. She felt as if her reaction time had slowed down. Her white sweater was getting darker by the second, the blood dripping down it and onto her dress.
Percy wrapped one of Bronte's arms around his neck and placed his hand on her waist. His grip was tight, as he gritted his teeth. Percy felt as if everything was his fault. The two teens had been in danger before and had each other's backs in battle, but this was the first time either of them had been hurt this badly.
Of course it had to be Bronte. If only Percy just followed her and didn't go off on his own, she wouldn't have been in this position. He wouldn't have caused her to get hurt.
Percy didn't know what kind of monster Dr. Thorn was, but he was fast. Maybe he could defend himself if he could get my shield activated. All that it would take was a touch of his wristwatch.
But defending the di Angelo kids was another matter. And now that Bronte was injured, they definitely needed help.
"Bah! My poison causes pain, Jackson. It will not kill the girl. Let go of her and walk!" Dr. Thorn snarled with his accent.
Percy stared daggers at the man. There was no way he was going to let go of her.
Bronte, on the other hand, tried to remove her arm from his neck, stating that she could walk. She didn't want to cause any more trouble or get Percy hurt.
The raven haired boy only held onto her tighter, not releasing her. He knew she could barely take a few steps before crumbling.
Percy knew of one way to call for help. He closed his eyes as Thorn herded the four further outside. He pictured Grover's face. He focused on his feelings of fear and danger–which, considering the situation he was in, wasn't that hard. Percy watched as blood dripped down from Bronte's arm and down into the white snow, creating a small trail of their every step.
Last summer, Grover had created an empathy link. He'd sent the raven haired boy visions in his dreams to let him know when he was in trouble. As far as Percy knew, they were still linked, but he'd never tried to contact Grover before.
Hey, Grover! Percy thought. Some bad shit happened! Bronte's hurt! Thorn's kidnapping us! He's a poisonous spike-throwing maniac! Help!
Thorn inarched them into the woods. They took a snowy path dimly lit by old-fashioned lamplights.
Bronte's shoulder ached. The wind blowing through her ripped sweater was so cold that she felt like a Brosicle.
Percy noticed the blonde shivering, and held her tighter, rubbing her uninjured arm. He didn't know whether or not she was shaking from the poison, or the cold, or even just nerves, but either way, he wanted to be there for her. "I'm so sorry, B," Percy mumbled for the tenth time.
