Page 39 of A Spark of Something (A Librarian’s Guide to Witchery #1)

H ah—a whimper slipped out as Ollie’s gaze trailed from the trophy to the prone man, and then to the growing puddle of dark crimson that was soaking the rug beneath him.

He tried to listen past the sound of his own heart beating away loudly in his head. But there was nothing. Nothing except his own breathing and heartbeat. William wasn’t breathing anymore.

“Oh, God… Oh, God,” Ollie gasped, before trying to push to his feet. He screamed as pain shot through his left arm the second he attempted to push up with it.

Flopping back down with a whine, Ollie tentatively held his arm in front of him, while his trembling worsened as the seconds passed. He eyed the torn sleeve, but the pain was too much for him to dare mess with the blood-soaked fabric. The deep dark rusty-red had soaked his sleeve to the cuff around his wrist. His skin felt uncomfortably slick, and he could feel blood dripping down, even if he couldn’t see it.

The worst part was that now he was no longer fighting for his life, there was nothing to distract him from the wound.

Tears slipped down his face as the pain intensified, as did an overwhelming feeling of helplessness that caused his chest to tighten while his breathing became faster. Carefully resting his throbbing arm against his chest, his jaw clenched as he tried to breathe through the pain, while cold sweat formed on his brow.

Ollie sat there for a few moments, before trying to get up again. With his good arm, he grabbed onto the wall, using it to pull himself up, only to fall against it hard with a yelp. His shoulder slammed into the wood as his right ankle gave way the minute he put weight on it.

His shoulder now holding his entire weight, Ollie let out a pathetic whimper while he looked down and tried to rotate his right foot. He stopped at the first sharp slice of pain that lanced through his ankle. Ollie couldn’t tell if he had broken it or sprained it, but it must have happened when William tackled him, even though he’d felt nothing at the time.

Yay for adrenaline, he thought with a slightly hysterical laugh.

Swallowing hard, Ollie’s gaze slowly trailed down until it rested on the unmoving man. Staring at the blood puddle that had now grown, the tightness in his chest worsened, his breath when finally looked at the source of it. Stomach giving a hard jerk, he gagged as he saw what could only be brain matter through the man’s crushed skull… “Oh, n-no…”

Dead… William was…dead… Ollie’s face scrunched up as he tried to stop the tears and his welling panic, but both seemed to only come faster. Whimpering as the tightness in his chest became a sharp stabbing pain, his breathing quickly became fast and gasping, while the edges of his vision started to fade and the pain worsened.

Slamming his eyes shut, Ollie desperately tried to breathe in deeply, and out slowly through his nose, but that’s when the smell of copper hit him in the face and pulled a sob past his lips. He choked, and he would have grabbed at his chest in pain, since it felt as if his heart was giving out, but his left arm was in the way.

Head swaying, Ollie forced himself to breathe through his mouth while he tried to forget where he was, what had happened, and what the smell that seemed to invade his senses meant, as he just leaned there crying.

He couldn’t forget, of course, but eventually his breathing slowed. The sharp pain in his chest faded, while the other aches made themselves well known. Worrying even as he no longer hyperventilated, his head felt no more stable than before. In fact, he was starting to feel even more dizzy.

Slowly, Ollie opened his eyes. It took everything in him to stop the panic from rushing right back as he saw the body, his vision rolling a bit as he did.

What have I done…? Someone was dead because of him. But… No! He hadn’t killed William! It wasn’t… “No… This…wasn’t s-supposed to ha-happen!”

The ghost hadn’t even been able to talk before today!? He shouldn’t have been able to… It was…Ollie’s fault, wasn’t it? It was him…

Another sob slipped from his lips. With his weight still held up by the wall and his left foot, he sniffled and roughly rubbed at his eyes with his good hand. Ollie whimpered fearfully as one of his knuckles left a steak of blood on the inside of his glasses, adding to the blood already on them.

“Oh, God… Wh-what do I d-do?” He eyed William again.

He…he tried to kill me , Ollie thought. He couldn’t—no, he wouldn’t—spend time feeling bad… He couldn’t because him being alive was the best outcome, even if this was all his fault.

Ollie looked down the hallway towards the front door. He had to get out of there. But…then what? He had to—Ollie shook his head when his vision spun. He forced himself to slow his breathing again, which had ramped back up with his thoughts.

Passing out was not an option though… His gaze flicked down to his still bleeding arm. The blood had now soaked the fabric covering his chest, and was dripping onto his stomach. If he didn’t deal with the wound soon, he could very well pass out from the blood loss…or go into shock… Chronic low blood pressure and blood loss were never a good combination.

“Red! I need to call Red!” Ollie started scowling as soon as the words came out. How the hell would he call Red?! It wasn’t like the cat had a damn cellphone!? And calling the library landline would end with way too many questions as to why he wanted to talk to his cat.

“Jahla!” No…he couldn’t. Ollie couldn’t let her get involved with something like this!

Noble! He’d worked with the mob…in passing. That didn’t mean the man knew how to deal with a dead body though. But Noble could know someone who did? Calling him could also just end with him in jail. Which would still be better than staying here and dying of blood loss.

Taking a deep breath, he eyed the front door again. Get out first…and then call someone. Swallowing hard, Ollie started to limp forward, whimpering through clenched teeth each time he bumped his right foot.

By the time he made it back to his car, after almost falling down the stairs at one point, and badly catching himself on the railing with his right arm, Ollie was shaking constantly, drenched in sweat, and in more pain than before.

Opening the passenger door, thanking whoever the fuck was up there that he hadn’t locked his damn car, he flopped onto the seat. Part of him was still half out of his ladybug, but he sat there wheezing, rapidly blinking as he tried to stop his vision from spinning.

Taking one breath after another, the world was calming down enough to be only a little shaky, even though he still trembled in a way that suggested his blood pressure was possibly dropping. But then, it likely was…

Ollie pulled out his phone, cursing how heavy the dumb thing was now as it shook in his hand.

He eyed the lit screen. “Who to call…”

Did he really have a choice? He couldn’t talk to Red without getting Jahla involved. And…ha, his…godfather wouldn’t answer in time. It had been over a week and the man still hadn’t called him back. It wasn’t unusual. Rowden had always been a busy person. And it…wasn’t like his godfather was ignoring him. He did this with everyone else too. He was sure that he did. Ollie wasn’t special in that regard. He supposed…it was good to know that even distressed messages weren’t enough to warrant a quick response, but then the man likely hadn’t even listened to them yet.

Choking down the sob that tried to bubble out, Ollie called the only person he could.

Noble leaned over the map, glaring at the spots he’d marked. He had tracked Mikael for a while before the bastard had managed to slip out of view. The man sucked at watching his own back, but he was a paranoid fucker. Enough that he was almost positive the man hadn’t slipped away due to noticing Noble, more just out of habit.

He flinched as his phone started ringing, frowning at realizing it wasn’t his ‘work’ phone. Though he supposed he’d soon only have the one.

Rolling his eyes at the thought, Noble snagged it off the table, his expression changing instantly on spotting Ollie’s name.

Accepting the call, he drawled, “Hello there.”

Noble tensed when the only response he got was a shuddered breath.

“Ollie, what’s wrong?”

He heard the man swallow. “N-Noble…somethinggg…” Ollie trailed off as he started to slur, sending Noble’s concerns sky-high.

“Ollie, are you hurt?! Where are you?!”

The man huffed. “I’m bl-bleeding a bit. Okayyy, m-maybee a lot?—”

“Ollie, where are you?!”

Ollie started to sob. “Noble…so-something re-really baad happened.”

“Stop,” he ordered. “Whatever it is, you can tell me when I get there.”

“You don’t?—”

“Tell me where you are!”

Ollie stayed quiet for a moment, before finally giving him the address. Noble typed it into his phone, his eyes widening on seeing he was over an hour away. “Fuck, Ollie, why are you so far out?! I need you to stay safe. I’ll be there soon.”

“No, Noble, you don’t unders-understand,” his little witch said after hiccupping, obviously crying.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Whatever it is, you can explain when I get there. But right now, I need you to use whatever you have to either bind your wounds, or maybe make a tourniquet to try to stop any excessive bleeding. I can help you if you don’t know what to do. What’s around you? Where are you hurt? How’s your head? Are you dizzy?”

“No…I-I know w-what to d-do.”

He grimaced when Ollie didn’t answer most of the questions. “Okay…I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

Ollie let out a puff of air as the call disconnected. He supposed it was probably for the best that Noble hadn’t let him say anything. It likely would have been a bad idea to say over the phone line that he may have killed someone.

Shaking his head, which was becoming increasingly hazy, he said aloud, “I need—” Ollie swallowed. “—tourniquet! Yes, I need to put a tourniquet above the…cut.”

Cut…or was it a stab? Hell, it didn’t matter, he needed to fix this…cause he would really rather not go into hypovolemic shock.

Ollie shook his head again, frowning as he murmured, “With what though…?”

First aid kit! He had a first aid kit under the passenger seat. Ollie grimaced, glancing around. Being sideways in the seat like he was…the only way he’d reach it was if he used his left hand.

Oh, this was not going to be fun.

Clamping his jaw tight, he just barely held back his scream when he stretched his left arm down. Reaching under the seat, as whimpers slipped from his lips, he grabbed the stupid thing before dropping it onto his chest with a pain-filled wail.

Ollie took a few deep breaths, holding his arm very still while trying to wish the pain away. It didn’t work, of course. Cuts were apparently not like broken file cabinets. Opening the first aid case, he pulled out the black strap with an odd metal disk on it, and one end a loop. Hissing while he slipped the looped end on and up his arm, Ollie took another deep breath and pulled on the loose end, crying out as he tugged it as hard as he could, tightening it around his bicep.

As agony laced through him, he stopped fighting against the darkness and let his eyes fall shut.