Blood Born: Assassin Book 2

Blood Born- chapter 17

"Charlene!" I screamed, running toward her crumpled body.

The guards tried to grab me as I pushed through the crowd. I wrenched free and dropped to my knees. The blood pooled about her head and neck, covering her beautiful hair. Not giving much care to my own gown, I scooped her off the floor and held her close to my body, crying for my dear friend.

"Evelyn!" James yelled for me.

My mother tried to tear me away from her, but I refused to leave Charlene.

The gold gown I wore was destroyed by streaks of blood. I wiped at my cheeks, smearing the crimson liquid across my face.

"What happened?" I asked nobody in particular.

Nobody answered. The women fanned themselves as everyone craned their necks to see better.

"I said what happened!"

Again, nobody answered. They stood, staring at us.

"How is it that nobody saw this happen?"

"Let's get her out of here, Evelyn," James coaxed me to release her body.

I nodded, laying her on the cold stone. A guard swooped down and picked her up, carrying her out of the banquet hall.

"Take her to chambers!" James hollered.

"Aye, sir." The guard breezed down the hall, carrying her as though she were a ragdoll, and up the stairs.

That's what she looked like. A ragdoll. Her head lolled back; her damp, blood-soaked hair hung down, and her arms hung down her body. He laid her on the bed, the white sheets turning a bright red. I walked to her side, brushing the matted hair out of her face. As my hand passed by her mouth, I felt a small whoosh of air.

"She's breathing. She's breathing!"

"What?" Elizabeth asked.

"Someone give me a knife. Now!"

A guard fumbled with the sharp instrument at his waist, handing it over. I grabbed a handful of the gown and sliced it off. Her undergarments were soaked in blood. She sucked in a deep breath of air while gasping. A blood-curdling scream erupted from her lips as I pushed her onto her side, ripping the back of her undergarments, and searching for a wound. I grabbed the torn gown and wiped away as much of the blood from her back as I could. She cried the entire time. Her body grew hot, and I knew infection grew more the longer I took. The blood poured out of a wound on her lower back.

"Here. It's here. Stop the bleeding," I begged the physician.

He knelt beside me and fumbled through a large black bag, digging for something. "Hold the fabric on tightly. Bring hot water and more towels!"

People rushed about as the doctor pulled out a large needle and thread.

"Whiskey!" he shouted.

Someone handed him a decanter of the amber liquid. He pulled the stopper out and gently poured it over Charlene's back. She let out the most horrific scream I'd ever heard.

"Shh, it's alright. You're going to be alright," I whispered to her.

All she did, or could do, was moan in agony.

"What is it?" James asked.

The physician ran his fingers along the smooth edges of the cut and examined it closely. "She was stabbed. The edges are smooth. Very smooth. Moreover, it's small. Fortunately, nothing important was in the way of the blade. This was not intended to kill, simply to cause great distress. Which it is. The poor lady."