Perilous Flames [clifford a.u]

chapter forty one - invigorate

CHAPTER FORTY ONE - INVIGORATE

My lungs tightened, suddenly making the unbearable gasp inside of me come out in a strangled sob. "Luke," I breathed again, finding it hard to actually comprehend that this was reality. "You're here...How?"

A laugh--or what sounded like a laugh but was more like a wheeze--escaped Luke. "I was expecting a better reaction, honestly. Like maybe a fist pump in the air or a prayer to the gods above or something." He chuckled again, as if he found his words that funny. It had immediately backfired though, as the laugh had dangerously turned into a ragged cough and suddenly he was bending forward, spitting blood onto the grass. 

The Asian girl--Seraphine--went rigid at his reaction and quickly tucked her gun away before looking at me. "Please," she spoke up, her voice warm and slightly deeper than I expected. "Please help him, he's losing a lot of blood."

Her plea, at first, was distant to my mind as it was too focused--too zeroed in on the blood that dripped from his mouth.

My fault--this is my fault. He's like this because of me. 

My chest was growing with guilt and anxiety and I wanted to drop to my knees and apologize a thousand times over on how much I fucked up to Luke, but there wasn't time. Not when Luke was literally on the brink of possible death in front of me. Not when Seraphine was looking at me with desperation in her eyes--like I was her last source of help on this earth. 

Forcefully, I snapped myself from my shocked state and moved forward, making careful work to bring Luke's other free arm around my shoulder. Instantly, his stance grew slightly straighter, his support now equally stabilized between me and the other girl. "The front door," I directed her. "We need to get him through the front door." 

She quickly nodded and then we were walking as quickly as we can, rounding the house while making sure to be gentle in handling Luke. 

His breathing was ragged, coming out in choppy wheezes and the stench of blood on him was strong. He was seriously injured, that much was clear.

"What the hell happened?" I asked as we finally rounded the last corner and made it onto the front yard. 

The yard was entirely lit this time, the lights overhead bright as a beacon, making it easier to see the group of guards and Wendy crowding the front porch. 

"Hey, over here!" I suddenly shouted at the sight at them. At the sound of my voice, the group's heads turned to us in a flash, causing some to point their guns at us, their fingers hovered over the trigger. "It's me, I need help!" I yelled at them, hoping to the gods that they wouldn't shoot.

But once they had recognized me, their weapons immediately lowered. Their faces, however, were drawn with confusion and suspicion, obviously directed to the two strangers next to me.

Wendy was the only one to stumble down the steps in worry, though. Her eyes first landed on me, traveling over my body, searching for any wound or injury, and once she was satisfied that I was okay, they went to inspect Luke and Seraphine. 

And they stood on Luke.

Once she saw the massive amount of spilled blood, she instantly grabbed the arm of the nearest guard next to her and pointed back at us, muttering a few words to him in the process. The puzzling expression was still on his features but he didn't hesitate to bound all the way down the steps and make his way towards us.

When he finally reached us, his eyes darted to Seraphine first, probably speculating the danger she might be and then he glanced at me. "May I, miss?" He gestured to Luke, arms open.