Page 61 of Demons and Darlings


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“What do you want me to do?” I asked. “What do you need?”

“I’ve lost too much blood,” he said. “I need you to stitch it shut.”

“Are you out of your mind?” I hissed back. “I can’t stitch yourstabbingwound!”

“You can,” he grunted with more force, “and you have to. Or else I’ll die, Lyra.”

Shit, shit, shit.Where’s Natalie when you need her?

“Fine,” I said, running back to my kitchen. “I think I have an old sewing kit in here…” I dug through my drawers. Alek was lucky as hell that I had taken up sewing for a while a few years ago. He was very, very lucky.

I grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and the tiny sewing kit before returning.

“This is going to hurt, you know.”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “It will.”

My hands shook as I grabbed ahold of his blood-soaked hoodie and pushed it up. I immediately saw where he was bleeding from.

And immediately cursed.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this. What if I mess it up?” My hands started shaking.

“You can’t mess it up, Lyra. I heal faster than humans, so I just need you to close the wound. Even if it’s shit, it will work.”

“Fine,” I said, grabbing the bottle of rubbing alcohol and flipping the cap open. I pressed the towel to the wound one last time before pouring the liquid all over his abdomen.

He hissed in pain but didn’t move.

With my shaking hands, I threaded the needle and leaned over him.

His toned body flexed under my touch, but he didn’t resist. Not as I pressed the sliced flesh together with my fingers.

And not as I dove the small needle into his skin.

In fact, Alek was surprisingly quiet, aside from a few hisses of pain as I pulled the thread taut through his skin.

I worked as quickly as I could, stitching and wiping blood and stitching some more, until the entire wound was shut.

It wasn’t pretty, but the bleeding had already slowed.

“There,” I said. “Let me put a bandage over it so you don’t bleed all over my apartment.” I grabbed a bunch of white gauze and tape and quickly secured it over the wound. “And if this gets infected, it’s not my fault.”

I looked at Alek’s face for the first time all night. He was staring at me—half in awe, half in delusional pain.

“What?” I asked him.

He didn’t look away. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just… I think I already got blood all over your apartment.”

I shook my head and began wiping up the small pool of blood he had left. “Can you stand?”

I helped him stand from the floor and walk to the bathroom, where he began washing the blood off his skin.

I left him there while I got back to work on the apartment floor.

I wanted to ask him who the hell had stabbed him, and—more importantly—why he had come here.

After not speaking to me for weeks and not holding up his side of our deal.

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