Page 40 of A Spark of Something (A Librarian’s Guide to Witchery #1)
N oble hit the brakes, coming to a stop right next to Ollie’s ladybug. His heart threatened to jump from his throat in panic as he caught sight of Ollie.
Grabbing the medic bag from his passenger seat, Noble jumped out, not bothering to turn his truck off or close his door, just rushing to the other side of the bug.
Noble’s legs almost gave out while he heaved a sigh of relief when the sound of breathing that wasn’t his own reached his ears.
Alive… Ollie was alive. He grimaced as he took the man in. Eyes closed, Ollie’s copper curls were hanging free, and he was looking white as a sheet. His little witch still had on the outfit he’d been wearing on their date, but the left sleeve was now torn and soaked in blood. Blood was also splattered onto his shirt, face, and smeared and speckled on his glasses. There was just a lot of blood.
A black tourniquet was wrapped around the upper part of his arm. Although most of the skin on his left hand was covered with blood, the small patches where there wasn’t any were paler than the rest of him. Gently grabbing his hand, Noble pressed his fingers to Ollie's wrist and found no pulse, which told him that the witch had tightened it just as he should have.
“Ollie?” Noble rasped as he gently cupped the man’s face with one hand. “Ollie,” he repeated, this time giving the man’s cheek a gentle pat.
His little witch’s eyes fluttered open. The man’s face instantly went from confused and pained to a crumbling, sobbing mess. “N-Noble,” Ollie cried.
Without hesitation, he set the medic bag on the dash and carefully lifted the man out of the car into his arms, before shifting his weight onto just one, so he was holding Ollie against his side, with one arm under his butt. Throughout the whole process, he was careful not to touch his left arm, but he noticed that Ollie winced when his right leg bumped against him.
Grabbing his medic bag again with his now free hand, he turned, eyeing the log cabin house and the open door for a moment before making the decision to go in. Someone had hurt Ollie, but they couldn’t still be around. Why leave the man alive if they were?
“Noble, I?—”
“Shh…” he trailed off as he made it to the top of the steps, and spotted the body through the open door.
Based on the hair, he knew it wasn’t Mikael, so he ignored it. Walking in and stepping over the dead man, bloody knife, and trophy, he eyed the room in passing, before heading straight to the opening that led him just where he expected, the kitchen.
“There was?—”
“You can explain after I take care of your injuries,” Noble drawled as he tossed the med pack onto the counter, and dragged a chair over. He placed it sideways beside the sink, before setting Ollie down on it.
He winced at how the little witch’s head started to hang down. His eyes were hidden by his hair, and tears were trailing down his face, while his right hand gripped his knee tightly. For once, he was unable to twist and worry his hands.
As much as Noble wanted to comfort the man, he was way too worried about getting the tourniquet off before Ollie went into shock, and there was too much he had to do first.
Lifting Ollie’s left arm up, he rested it on the side of the sink, before ripping the man’s sleeve, tearing it completely off as the man hissed in pain. Noble blanched at his first clear sight of the injury.
The wound was at least two inches long, and the edges gaped open. It looked deep. But even with how much blood there was, the fact that Ollie hadn’t bled to death told him that an artery hadn’t been hit. Noble tried not to dwell on that thought.
Flipping the tap on, he began to pull everything he’d need from his bag. Starting with a box of gloves, followed by antibacterial soap, two bottles of pure 100% alcohol, saline solution, a large needleless syringe, antiseptic, gauze, medical tape, surgical tools, a suture pack, and finally, an unlabeled bottle of pills.
Quickly washing his hands, Noble slipped on a pair of surgical gloves. He didn’t hesitate as he began to feel around the edges of Ollie’s wound, trying to see how deep it was. As much as he tried to ignore them, the whimpers his little witch let out as he did it were a stab to his heart.
Fucking hell , he cursed in his head. The wound cut down to the bone, which was likely what had stopped the knife he saw on the floor in the other room.
“Ollie…” he said hesitantly. “Do you trust me?”
Slowly, the man’s tear-filled eyes, that were still wide behind his smudged glasses, lifted and met his as he nodded his head. Noble’s heart clenched.
“I can’t take you to the hospital. There would be too many questions that we can’t risk answering right now. But I can’t leave this open, so I need you to let me sew it shut.”
Ollie’s eyes widened further.
“I don’t have any local anesthetic, so this is not going to be pleasant, but it needs to be done.”
He would have fucking had some if he hadn’t stupidly decided, more than a decade ago, that using it was too much of a hassle.
The man’s bottom lip wobbled, and he took a stuttered breath before softly saying, “Okay.”
“Just trust me. I’m going to take care of you.” He ran his hand over the man’s curls. “How’s your head?”
“D-dizzy.”
“You’ve lost a bit of blood already. I don’t have that either, but after we get your wound cleaned and stitched up, we’ll get some fluids into you.”
Ollie murmured what he’d assumed was another okay, but it had come out too weak to understand.
Standing, Noble took a deep breath, before gripping Ollie’s elbow and stretching his arm out over the sink. The man whimpered as soon as the water hit his wound.
Flicking the water off, Noble opened the saline bottle, before tearing open the sealed syringe and filling it with the solution. Ollie hissed each time he flushed the wound with the saline, but overall, Ollie was doing fine…which just made him dread what he had to do next. As flushing the wound, and even stitching it, wasn’t really the painful part.
“Take a deep breath.”
Ollie did…and as he was doing it, Noble quickly grabbed the antiseptic and started disinfecting the wound. At the first touch of the liquid against his exposed flesh, Ollie began to fight against his hold, screaming and thrashing.
“ST-STOP, PL-PLEASE!” the man cried, as he tried to tug his arm away, but he was no match against Noble’s strength.
While feeling like an absolute monster, Noble ignored every pleading word.
For a brief second, the man went slack, clearly having passed out, but he jerked back to consciousness at the next pour of the burning liquid. By the time Noble had emptied the bottle, Ollie was an even shakier, paler mess than before. The man was sobbing hard, but he was no longer begging.
Pulling the gloves off, Noble tossed them aside and crouched down again. He gently cupped the man’s face, wiping tears away as Ollie continued to tremble under his touch. “You did so good, Ollie.”
“Ah—” The man sobbed harder.
“Shhh, the worst part is over, I promise.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead. “The rest is nothing, just small pinches.”
Releasing his face, he rewashed his hands and pulled on a new pair of gloves, before dousing the surgical tools multiple times in the alcohol, and opening the suture pack.
Noble meticulously stitched up each layer; starting with the soft tissue, then muscle, before finally doing the skin. Thankfully, Ollie didn’t fight him. Though him just sitting there crying silently, or whimpering in pain, was as much of a punch to the gut as him screaming.
Slowly releasing the tourniquet, Ollie hissed, as no doubt the sting of the blood flow returning to his limb was not fun, on top of all the other pain. He waited, eyeing the neat stitches. When the color started returning to the limb, and he was sure no blood was going to leak from the wound, he began bandaging him up.
“Done,” Noble rasped thickly as he finished wrapping the wound.
Ollie remained quiet. He was honestly surprised the little witch hadn’t passed out again. Part of him had hoped he would.
Opening the cabinet, Noble grabbed a glass and quickly filled it with water, before opening the pill bottle that was filled with definitely expired antibiotics, and shaking one out. They would work well enough, and with how deep the wound was, the man would need them, witch or not.
“Take this, it’s an antibiotic. Don’t ask where I got them, it’s best if you don't know.”
He pressed the pill to the man’s pale lips, and they parted. He helped Ollie take a drink, holding the glass and tipping it. Noble set it down in the sink once the man had finished, turning the tap off.
Putting the rest of the shit he’d taken out away, he took a deep breath in and out, feeling slightly relieved to be done with the major wound. Noble took out an unopened bandage wrap and crouched again, lower than he had before. Gripping the upper part of Ollie’s right calf, he carefully removed the man’s shoe, which made Ollie wince. Noble grimaced as he lifted the man’s pants leg and eyed the clearly swollen ankle.
Feeling around it, and then moving it slightly, he noted anytime Ollie made a noise, or jerked away from his touch.
“I don’t think it’s broken. It's most likely just a sprain. I’m going to wrap it for now, until I can pick up a brace that will fit you.”
“Why…haven’t you asked?” Ollie whispered, his voice tired and wavering. Though maybe it was less of a whisper and more that the man was exhausted.
Opening the package, he wrapped the little witch’s ankle before straightening up with Ollie's shoe in hand as he finally answered. “It’s not the first body I’ve seen.”
It wouldn’t even be the last.
He tossed Ollie’s shoe in his medic pack and zipped it up. Snagging the paper towel roll off the counter, he dampened a few and started cleaning the blood off Ollie’s face, glasses, and hands the best he could.
The man sniffled, tears still streaming down. “That should concern me, shouldn’t it?”
“It should,” he said truthfully.
“It doesn’t.” Ollie let out a sob. “I-I’m ju-just glad you're he-here.”
Tossing the dirty paper towel he’d been using aside, he cupped the man’s face before pressing a kiss to his forehead again. “Shh, it’s okay.” Noble ran his hands over the man’s soft copper curls. “I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad you called me. Now…tell me what happened. Who is that man?”
“He…” Ollie trailed off and sniffled, though Noble could tell he was hesitating.
“Ollie, who is he, and why are you here?”
The witch winced, and Noble found out why just moments later. He stared wide-eyed, absolutely horrified that the man hadn’t considered all of the ways this little idea of his could have, and partly did, go south.
Frankly, it could have been so much worse, and almost was. A dead body was bad enough, but it was better than Ollie being the one who was dead. Which is what would have happened if the ghost hadn’t been there.
Fuck…a ghost that can kill. Noble couldn’t say he’d ever heard of such a thing. Hurt? Yes. But to kill…it would take longer to build up the energy they’d need to be strong enough to do it, than the person they wanted to kill would likely live. On their own that was…
“It’s—” Ollie whimpered. “It’s m-my fault. If I-I hadn’t c-come he-here.”
“Ollie, I won’t say I’m exactly happy you did this. As the choices you made were incredibly rash and dangerous, but this man, William, being dead, is not your fault. He’s dead because he attacked you.”
Well, he was more dead because he had killed someone, and the person he killed just so happened to have attached themselves to the car of a budding and powerful?—
“You don’t un-understand!” Ollie sobbed as he gripped onto one of his hands that still cupped his face. “If I didn’t see them! If I hadn’t come here! If I wasn’t a witch, none of this would have happened!”
Even though Noble knew he could have just brushed this off as the ramblings of a man suffering from blood loss…he wasn’t going to.