A few minutes later I came back out. “They’ve taken him to a room upstairs. I don’t know anything.”
“Wow, I wonder why they admitted him,” Christy said, and then exchanged a discomforted look with Amy.
“Let’s go find him,” Amy suggested, then headed for the main desk. “Okay, he’s on the fourth floor; room 412,” she said on her return.
I felt weak in the elevator, and a thought came to me. “Hey, his parents don’t even know me. I can’t just walk in on them.”
“Sure you can,” Christy smiled warmly. “Amy and I know them pretty good and we’ll be with you. Besides, don’t you think Marcus will want to see you?”
They sounded more optimistic than I felt.
As we approached room 412, I heard a soft cry and stopped in the middle of the hallway.
“I can’t go in there,” I whispered as I listened to the heart wrenching sound of his mother crying.
“Do you want me to find out what’s going on?” Amy asked.
I nodded.
As she was about to enter the room, Evan walked out. I froze. The sight of him sickened me. I wanted to tell everyone what he’d done, but I knew deep down inside that the evil Evan had caused his brother harm not the normal Evan.
“Hey, how is he?” Christy grabbed his arm, making him stop.
“He’s still asleep. Has a concussion. He’ll be fine.” Evan’s voice was on the verge of sounding robotic. He pushed past Christy and continued down the hallway, without acknowledging me.
“Geez, he’s awfully casual about the whole thing,” Amy said.
“Brooke, you look faint again,” Christy said.
“Get me out of here,” I whispered through numb lips.
Amy and Christy each took one of my arms and walked me to the car. I’d forgotten how hot it was outside.
The drive back to Aunt Rachel’s was a blur. Amy and Christy talked continually above the rap music, but I wasn’t paying any attention.
“If you want to go back later or tomorrow, we’ll take you, okay?” Amy offered as I got out of the car.
“Thanks a lot, and if you hear anything please call me,” I said.
“Right. You call us too. Maybe he’ll be home in the morning,” Christy said on an up note.
Chapter Thirty
My heart felt ripped from my body. I couldn’t sleep, so I lay awake in bed most of the night studying the grimoire, or at least willing myself to read the words. As hard as I tried though, I couldn’t read the ancient fairy Welsh.
After a few hours of sleep, I got up, had a shower, and waited curled into the corner of the porch swing for the rest of Deadwich to wake up. The morning was cool and cloudy—a far cry from yesterday, but fitting.
Amy arrived at Aunt Rachel’s around nine. I didn’t even have to call her.
She handed me a gym bag and sat down beside me on the porch swing. I looked at her confused.
“It’s Marcus’ stuff from the locker room at school. I thought you might want to take care of it for him, so I told Justin I’d get it to him.” She smiled half-heartedly.
“Oh. I’ll make sure he gets it,” I said, feeling as if I had a piece of him with me now.
“I came to take you to the hospital. He’s still there. I called Evan before I came over. His parents stayed all night. There’s no change.”
A cool numbness flooded my face. “I’ll go get ready. Do you want to come in?”
“No. I’ll wait here, thanks.”
It was highly likely that I would meet Marcus’ parents today, so I was conflicted with what to wear. Really, I didn’t care, but through the numbness, I knew I should look presentable—not that they would even notice me, but still.
I kept my jeans on and exchanged the band tee I was wearing for a more conservative top. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and left off the make-up. I shoved the grimoire inside my purse and grabbed a banana and a bottle of water from the kitchen before leaving.
“But my brother’s unconscious and my parents stayed all night. They’re expecting me to relieve them,” Amy fibbed expertly, with crocodile tears in her eyes, to the woman at the front desk.
“What did you say his name was honey?” The woman asked again in a more sympathetic tone.
If I hadn’t been so grief-stricken, I would have rolled my eyes at Amy’s expert performance.
“Marcus Knight.” Amy wiped away a tear as she’d said it.
“Oh,” the woman said after checking the computer.
Her grim smile knocked the breath out from me.
“What?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“He’s been moved to ICU. Second floor. Room 208.”
I let out a sharp breath.
“I’m afraid your friend will have to wait down here until visiting hours begin at eleven,” the receptionist said to Amy then looked at me apologetically.
“She’s my sister,” Amy said without hesitation.
“Oh, alright then. ICU is open to immediate family twenty-four hours a day.”
“Thanks,” Amy said. “C’mon, Brooke.”
As I approached the doorway of room 208, the muted sound of a heart monitor brought everything to reality. The soft voices within sounded full of concern. I listened from outside his door.
“Daniel is A positive, but I’m B negative. Can’t I give him blood?” his mother practically begged the doctor.
It was worse than I’d thought.
“I’m afraid not, Mrs. Knight. The only blood an O negative person can receive is O negative.” The doctor paused and then said, “And because of its rarity, there’s a shortage of O negative blood in the hospital right now.”
Why did he need blood?
“Well there must be something you can do, for crying out loud. This is a hospital.” Marcus’ father sounded edgy. I couldn’t blame him.
Without another thought, I stepped away from Amy. With a shaking hand, I pushed on the door to Marcus’ room. It squeaked opened. Marcus’ parents, the nurse, and the doctor turned to see me standing in the doorway.
“I’m O negative,” I said softly. The heart monitor was slightly louder now that I was standing inside of the doorway, but not as loud as my heartbeat.
The anguish I was feeling was mirrored on Marcus’ parents’ faces. The doctor held out his hand for me to come into the room further. I took a couple steps toward the bed, noticing Marcus’ still body for the first time.
“Is this your daughter?” the doctor asked optimistic.
“No,” his mother said curiously. “You must be Brooke.” She managed a soft smile.
I nodded. Without further hesitation, she walked over to me and put her hand on my back, bringing me all the way in to their little family circle of grief.
“Marcus speaks about you quite often.”
Her words surprised me. “How is he? I was here yesterday, but—”
“You should have come in with us, but you’re here now.” She patted my back and gave me a fragile smile. “Daniel, this is Brooke. Brooke, this is Daniel and I’m Veronica.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Brooke. I wish it was under better circumstances,” Marcus’ dad said, before lowering his gaze to the speckled floor tile.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I said.
Then I remembered what had so boldly brought me in here. I looked at the doctor. “I’m O negative. I can give him blood.” In any other circumstance, the thought would have repulsed me, but Marcus lying still, under the pale-blue hospital sheets, terrified me more.
“How old are you, Brooke?” the doctor asked.
“I’ll be seventeen in a few weeks, and I weigh one hundred and twelve pounds. I read the chart in the emergency waiting room yesterday,” I said, explaining how I knew what the guidelines were for giving blood.
“That still makes you sixteen,” the doctor said.
My face fell.
“However, with a parent’s consent, you can still donate.”
“How much does he need? You can take
as much as you want.”
His mom gave me a gentle squeeze. In fact, she hadn’t let go of me since she’d found out who I was.
“That’s very generous of you, Brooke, but I’m afraid, you can only give one pint,” the doctor said.
“Oh. Why does he need blood, anyway?”
The doctor explained to me as if I were the mother. “Marcus has become anemic overnight. We can’t find anything really wrong with him, except for the minor head trauma he’s suffered.”
“Head trauma?” I repeated.
“He has a mild concussion. His motor responses are good and he should be awake by now, but he seems to have slipped into a coma for no apparent reason, and now he’s become anemic. A blood transfusion will help him immensely.”
I looked at Marcus’ mom and said, “I’ll go and call my mom.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Absolutely.”
Amy was in the hallway waiting for me. “Wow. You’re really going to let them take all that blood from you?”
“Of course. He would do it for me.”
I grabbed my cell phone and dialed home. “Hi Mom, I need you to come to the Salem Medical Center—”
“Brooke, are you alright?”
Her sharp tone prickled the inside of my ear.
“Yes. I’m fine, just listen … .”
I went on to explain the dire situation to her. At first, she was apprehensive about letting me give blood, but when the desperation in my voice sunk through to her, she promised to come immediately.
When I went back into Marcus’ room, his mom asked if I would mind if she and his dad went downstairs for coffee. I think it was their subtle way of giving me some alone-time with their son. When they left, so did the nurse. The doctor had already gone.
Careful not to disturb the tubing and wires that protruded from under the sheets everywhere, I sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. Precious life was slipping away in front me, and my heart ached beyond anything imaginable.
An oxygen tube had been placed below Marcus’ nose. An IV dripped clear liquid into a vein in one arm.
I looked at the blood-stained bandage taped to his forehead and swallowed hard to fight against the tears. His arms lay outside the sheets. I pushed the sleeve on his left arm up, exposing the double spiral tattoo and bent close enough to lay the warm amulet against the ink.
At the same time as a shimmer of energy passed into me, under the tattoo, Marcus’ biceps twitched ever-so-slightly.
“Do you feel that?” I whispered. “I’m going to make you better. I’m giving you my blood.” The last word squeaked out. “I know you’d give me yours.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, splashing onto his arm. All the while, my eyes stayed fixed to the tattoo, in anticipation of another twitch. None came.
After a few minutes, I pulled my tear-streaked face back to look at his. Instead of tanned, his skin had picked up a dull gray tone. Gently, I caressed the sides of his face, brushing the tips of my fingers over the one eyebrow that wasn’t covered by the bloodied bandage. His skin felt unnaturally hot. I lowered my face until it was mere inches from his.
“I love you. I’ll fix you, so you can fix me like you promised.”
I lowered my quivering lips to his pale ones. There was no response. I lingered there until the tears came again and then sat up.
I grabbed a couple of tissues from the box on the night stand and wiped my eyes. After that, I sat on the edge of the bed, numb, watching Marcus’ unresponsive face, praying for the slightest movement.
The constant beep of the heart monitor became comforting. It was his only way of communicating.
About an hour later, his and my parents entered the room together with Amy. Quickly, but gently, I picked up Marcus’ hand from my thigh where I held it, placed it back on the bed, and stood.
“Mom, Dad!” I was surprised to see them both.
“Baby,” Mom said, holding her arms out to me. She grabbed me in a desperate hug, which I eased myself out of. “Your father and I are both O negative. We’re going to donate, too.”
“Oh,” I said surprised. “Thanks.”
“Glad to help,” Dad said.
Marcus’ mom spoke then. “I met your parents downstairs. We had coffee before we came up. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, of course not.”
Amy, who stood beside me, whispered in my ear, “I asked every appropriate looking couple if they were your parents as they came in the door.”
“Thanks.”
Overwhelmed by my parents’ generosity, I fought back a new wave of tears.
Chapter Thirty-One
Against its will, my body surrendered its fight against unconsciousness. The illusion of sinking farther and farther into the cushions of the recliner as I grew heavier and heavier overwhelmed my senses. No longer able to hold my eyes open, I concentrated on my breathing while struggling in vain to stay alert.
“Listen, Mom,” I let my head roll to the side and forced my eyelids open into slits, careful not to look at the blood-filled tube protruding from her arm, “if I faint, don’t let them stop, okay.” As I said it, I felt myself losing the battle. “Please promise … .”
“Brooke? Nurse! I think she fainted.”
Mom and the nurse sounded as if they were talking under water—a distant muffled sound. My heavy breathing was the next sound I heard. Gradual noise from the outside world pulled me back. Something cold and wet lay across my forehead. I concentrated all my energy toward the refreshing coolness.
“Are you okay baby?”
“Uh huh,” I breathed.
I pushed my heavy lids up, looked down at my arm, and sighed with relief. Still attached to me, the plastic tubing sucked the fairy blood from my vein.
“I’m okay now,” I said once fully conscious.
“I’m very proud of you,” Mom said.
I nodded, unable to lift my heavy head off the back of the recliner. It was just her, me and the nurse in the room. Dad was in the hallway filling out his form, waiting his turn—with Amy, who I had discovered was comfortable talking to just about anyone.
“This probably isn’t the right time to bring this up, but I’m really sorry I made you leave Boston. I’ve been feeling guilty about the whole thing, and if you want to come home, your dad and I really want you to.”
With strength I didn’t realize I had yet, I peeled my head from the back of the recliner and looked at Mom incredulously. “Forget it! I’m not leaving Deadwich.” As if I would even consider moving back to Boston now.
“Okay, calm down. I just want you to know that you can if you want to.”
I let my head fall against the backrest of the chair and took a deep shuddering breath.
“Well, on that note, we’re going to Deadwich to look at a house in a couple of weeks. It’s on the Peninsula.”
I perked up, forgetting for a moment about the blood-sucking tube in my arm. “Really?”
“Yes. You remember the Peninsula, don’t you? We used to visit the Carver’s there, during the summers when we went to Aunt Rachel’s.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course I remember. I only live two blocks away from there. Marcus lives on the Peninsula,” I added, trying to act casual. Although I knew, perceptive as Mom was, she’d see right through the act.
“Is that a fact? Poor kid. What exactly happened, anyway?” she asked.
I told her the story that everyone believed, except Evan and me.
“Hopefully, this blood will help him.”
“It will,” I said with confidence. “It has to.”
“You really like this boy, don’t you?”
The subject was unavoidable. So I decided to be honest and get it over with. After a deep breath I said, “I don’t expect you to understand this, because you think I’m so young, but trust me when I say that Marcus is the one.”
“I understand more than you think. Remember, your father and I were both sixteen when we me
t and fell in love.”
Gross. I had no reply. I tried to keep the image of my parents in love at sixteen from entering my mind.
Twenty minutes later, the two synthetic bags were completely filled with our blood. The nurse wouldn’t allow me to leave the room until I drank a bottle of juice and rested for a bit.
“How soon can he have it?” I asked her while she stuck a bandage to the inside of my elbow.
“The blood will have to be tested first.”
“For what?” I asked innocently. I had pictured them rushing into Marcus’ room, with the fresh, warm blood and hooking it up to his arm immediately.
“For disease and other abnormalities.” She checked my blood pressure as she answered my many questions and when she finished, she said I was ready to go. “You’ve been very brave.” She smiled at me.
“I fainted,” I said, embarrassed.
“A lot of people faint, believe me.”
Mom wanted to walk me back to the room, but I made her stay with Dad. Amy promised her that she’d stay with me.
“Did it hurt?” Amy asked, fascinated.
“Actually, it didn’t hurt at all. I just fainted because I’m such a wuss when it comes to hospital stuff. But now that I’ve done it, and I have such rare blood, I think I’ll do it again, often. You should try it.” I coaxed her.
“Maybe I will,” Amy said, exhibiting what seemed to be a new sense of admiration for me. “How do you feel now?”
“Great.” And I did, knowing that with little effort on my part, I was giving someone else a chance at life.
It would be the next day before Marcus would receive the blood we’d donated. There was a slight blushing of his cheeks and lips, but that was the extent of any new signs of life he’d shown after the transfusion. He was still in a coma, and the doctors were still baffled as to why.
Tuesday I resumed my school life, although concentration was impossible. Sammy and Megan resumed their hatred of me and didn’t seem to care about Marcus’ health. They acted happy and normal. Robyn, however, was different. She seemed sympathetic, but kept her distance.
Uncle Edmund stopped by the school during lunch on Tuesday to ask me if I wanted to go to the hospital with him, so I skipped afternoon classes and went.