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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nightmare. Max buries his face in my

I can’t let him see the dread that coils in my stomach, the betrayal I feel

with the turmoil in my soul. When we arrive, Granny is whisked away from us,

words a thin veil over the gaping wound in our hearts.

in the sterile

of stale coffee. It’s an

swings his legs back and forth, the sound of his shoes scuffing lightly against the linoleum floor. He’s oblivious to the gravity of the situation. My heart pounds against my ribcage, a relentless drumbeat marking each second of suspense. It’s too loud in the hush of the room, reminding me that I

thought trails off into darkness, a path

respond, the soft tread of footsteps signals an

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Chapter 38

18 228 Nouchers

to deliver news I already know in my marrow. Her expression is gentle, apologetic, the bearer of doom wrapped in pastel colored