Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 38

I can’t tear my gaze away either. The paramedics are a flurry of action, their defibrillator pads and IV lines weapons working against the silent thief that is death. But even as they work, the leaden feeling in my chest tells me it’s a battle already lost and they know it too, they are just trying for Max‘ s sake.

mmand

cuts through the tense air,

“Clear!” The sharp

followed by the harsh zap of electricity. Granny’s body jerks, a grotesque jolt of life, but her chest remains still. Again and again, they try, each attempt a glimmer of hope that dies as quickly as it sparks.

“Let’s move!” One paramedic calls out, they scoop Granny onto a gurney. They’re rushing out the door, and I’m right on their heels.

“Shit… Max!” The reminder hits me like a physical blow. I can’t leave him; he’s my responsibility. I whirl around, spotting his small frame rooted to the spot, terror etched into every line of his face where Granny just lay.

“She didn’t wake up,” he tells me. I blink at him and swallow the lump forming in my throat. I don’t know how to reassure him when I can barely gather my own sense right now.

“Come on, buddy, we’ve got to go to the hospital.” My voice is steady, but inside, I’m shattering. When he doesn’t move, I scoop him up in my arms, his little body clinging to mine.

We race to the ambulance, its doors gaping open like a portal

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his face in my neck, his breath hitching in quiet

I don’t know if I am lying to him or myself, but what else can I do? I can’t let him see the

a blur, the sirens a wailing lament that seems to resonate with the turmoil in my soul. When we arrive, Granny is whisked away from us, disappearing behind sterile doors that separate the living from those who teeter on the

a thin veil over the gaping wound in our hearts. I nod, unable to trust my

We sit in the sterile expanse of the hospital waiting room, surrounded by a stench that

odor of stale

heart pounds against my

a path I’m

soft tread of footsteps signals an approach. My gaze

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Chapter 38

18 228 Nouchers

my marrow. Her expression is gentle, apologetic, the bearer of