Chapter 51 Quick Feelings
“Quick, get two blankets!” Brandon shouted at Hendrik, who rushed immediately and found two blankets in one of the other rooms.
Brandon wrapped Izabella in one, while he gave the other one to Renwick, who was still taking care of Raphael.
Brandon checked his watch. Then wrote the words TK 0133 on Izabella’s forehead with her own blood. He needed that to remember when exactly the tourniquet was applied, as the limb could survive for only a few hours, six the longest. That was the latest that they needed to take Izabella somewhere where she could get proper medical help.
A minute later and Raphael stirred. He looked down at his abdomen, lifting his t-
shirt.
“I don’t think you should…” Brandon advised him, but it was too late.
Raphael revealed the wound. It was amazing. Brandon never even imagined that it could heal so quickly. Raphael looked at his wound, then at Renwick, then at Izabella, lying
unconscious.
“What happened!?” Raphael rushed over to Izabella and showered her face with kisses.
“She gave you her blood,” Renwick explained.
“What?” Raphael closed his eyes, and pressed his cheek against hers. It was cold. “Why did you let her do that?”
“Because you would have died otherwise,” Brandon told him gravely.
“So, you pushed her to the brink of death?” Raphael growled.
“She did it because she wanted to, no one made her,” Brandon explained. “You should show more gratitude.”
“Um, guys?” Hendrik had overtaken the window lookout but the expression on his face wasn’t promising.
They all turned to him, on pins and needless.
“Maybe you’d best leave that chat for later, because we’ve got company…”
The moment he said those words, someone knocked on the door. It was ridiculous under the circumstances. Here they were, expecting someone to barge in and the enemies chose to knock on the door politely.
They all looked at Brandon. Raphael stood by Izabella’s side. Brandon waited. He had no
idea what he was waiting for. Maybe he wanted to buy some time, maybe he was waiting for a new idea to pop into his mind. He was lost and they all turned to him for guidance. He couldn’t freeze now.
The knock was heard again.
“Why aren’t they blowing the door open?” Renwick whispered and Brandon shushed
him.
“Wait…” Brandon muttered.
A second later and the door swung open, as if a bomb had exploded right in front of it. Dust and debris swirled in the air, making it hard to see. Raphael shielded Izabella’s slumbering body with his own, bending over her. The rest of the guys moved a little back, covering their eyes. A few seconds passed before they could all open their eyes again.
When Izabella regained consciousness, the first thing she saw was Raphael bending over her. His face was right next to hers. She tried to smile but was too weak. She glanced at her arm and saw the tourniquet.
“Someone did a nice job,” she thought to herself, unable to speak a word.
She turned a little and saw the rest of the guys.
“What’s… happening…” she managed to mutter, before a figure appeared in the
door.
The light shone on its back, so no one could recognize who it was. For a few seconds,
he just stood there, tall and lanky, as if he was waiting for a formal invitation. The light behind him died down a little and, now, he was illuIzabellated by the light coming from within.
Izabella didn’t recognize his face, but she recognized his tattoo. It was the same vampire ankh tattoo she’d seen on the guy from the Barracuda, when she went to meet up with Emile.
“I know him…” she whispered to Raphael, who looked at her, then back at the guy.
She wasn’t sure if any of them recognized him.
“What? No welcoming committee?” the guy spoke and she immediately froze upon hearing his voice.
“What are you doing here, Karpov!?” Brandon growled at him, standing in front of his sister and Raphael.
Thorne, Hendrik and Renwick did the same. Izabella was barely conscious, using the last morsels of her energy to remain awake, to find out who was really behind this whole thing.
“I see Goldilocks isn’t feeling all that well,” Karpov hissed, taking a step inside. “But, she’s obviously much better than our good friend Dante over there.”
The floor creaked underneath his leather soled boots. He was pale and looked as if he’d just gotten out of the hospital. His frame was weak but Izabella and the rest of them knew better than to underestimate his strength simply based on the way he looked.
“You killed Dante?” Brandon asked. “Why?”
It didn’t make any sense. They could have worked together, seeing they were already on the same side. The dark side.