Isabel and the Werewolf Beast (Vampire Tales #1)

12. Dante

Chapter twelve

Dante

T he first book held nothing of importance about how to heal a vampire. If anything, I’d say it was a rouse of a book, one to throw people off what harmed vampires and cured them. It had the usual myths. Vampires didn’t go out in the sunlight.

I couldn’t test that theory since we were stuck in perpetual night.

The reason cited was an extreme sensitivity that would lead to death if a vampire stayed in the sunlight too long. Was it true? Or had the person simply written it to settle human fears about vampires not stalking them during the day?

Another weakness was holy water, but I’d never believed in God. What sort of God existed where parents left their young children to fend for themselves? I highly doubted water blessed by a priest for someone who didn’t exist would cause a vampire harm.

Then there was the picture of a vampire hunting kit. A box of a case filled with crosses, vials of holy water, and stakes.

That was another thing. Stakes. A stake to the heart would kill them. Now that one, I believed because of the amount of blood an injury a wound of that magnitude would cause, and after seeing Isabel lying comatose from bleeding too much what would happen if the bleeding never stopped?

I placed the book on the grass and checked on Isabel. She hadn’t shifted or changed. I rose and stretched out the kinks from sitting on the ground. I needed to try another book or more. Somewhere in that vast library, there was a cure to whatever ailed her.

Was she stable enough to move? But to where?

I scanned the area, but the front of the castle held little interest. Everything interesting was behind the castle away from prying eyes. I squatted and lifted a corner of one bandage. No blood seeped from the wound but a good coating of dried blood stuck to the material. I should clean her. Reapply new bandages. The fountain. I eased one hand under her shoulders and the other under her knees and hoisted her into my arms. Her head lolled back, so I shifted her forward until her head rested against my chest.

Contentment filled me, and a satisfied rumble started from my chest. The beast part of me enjoyed holding Isabel. He’d tried mating with her after all, so I recognized he had affections for her, but this was something else other than lust .

Slowly, so I didn’t harm her, I made my way to the fountain and laid her down beside it. I turned to the back door and made my way inside the bathroom, gathered up a bar of lavender-scented soap, a washcloth, and a plush white towel. Walking back to the fountain, I dunked the washcloth in the water and rubbed the bar of soap on it until I had a nice thick layer of suds, then I peeled off the bandages on one arm. The wounds stayed closed. More gently than I’d ever been capable of in this form, I washed the dried blood from her arm and hand, washing each finger clean too then patted dry her arm. I placed her clean arm on the ground and then did the same to her other arm.

Now she was semi-clean, dark blotches of red blood stained her dress. Should I change her clothes? No, that would likely make my beast return to his lust-filled state. Now what to do with her? The hard cobblestones beside the fountain weren’t an ideal place for me to sit and read more of the books from the library.

I walked a short distance into the gardens, past what appeared to be a herb garden, in the distance a glasshouse stood glowing under the moonlight. That wouldn’t do. Too hot and wet for books. To the side of the glasshouse sat a tree. I walked over to it for a closer look. Underneath the large canopy were an array of twisted branches, some looked like they’d be good to sit in, almost like a chair of sorts. I returned for Isabel and carried her over to the tree, hoping this plant wouldn’t attack her like the ones in the labyrinth.

I placed her at the foot of the tree and waited. Nothing happened, so I sat in the branch and waited some more.

Still, nothing happened.

Seemed like this was a safe spot.

I left Isabel and returned to the castle. Collecting an armful of books on vampires and one on werewolves, I left the library once again. It’d be so much easier if I’d stay in here to read. I walked down the stairs and spotted the other broken curtain, so I placed the books on the curtain, threw in cushions from the couch, and turned the curtain into a rucksack. I carried my prize outside and back to Isabel.

Flicking out the curtain and spreading it across the ground, I stacked the books, placed a cushion beside them then laid another beside that then I lifted Isabel and placed her head on the cushion so her hair fell in a black silk curtain around her head. The wounds on her right arm started seeping blood again. I must have jostled her too much. All I had was a cushion, books, which wouldn’t help, and the curtain she currently laid on, nothing I’d use as another bandage and if I left to get something else, then she’d bleed all over the curtain and I’d have to wreck more of her castle. Without waiting a moment longer, I lowered my head and licked the blood from her arm.

The flavor wasn’t like normal blood. It was sweet and made the inside of my mouth tingle. I swiped my tongue around the inside of my mouth savoring every drop. Another drop of blood welled to her wounds, so I swiped that one away too. More sweetness exploded across my tongue. She was so tasty that I wanted to devour her, but then my head buzzed, and my eyesight grew hazy. I remembered the sting of the plant. Had it poisoned her? And I’d just ingested it too? What a fool I was.

I ran over to the fountain and scooped handfuls of water into my mouth trying to dilute whatever I’d licked from her blood. Nothing worked, so I ran to the grass and vomited. Wiping the back of my hand over my mouth, I stumbled back to the fountain and rinsed my mouth out. My limbs shook as I made my way back into the castle. I needed books on poison. Plants. Anything that would find an antidote.

For days, I’m assuming days since the night was never-ending, I sat beside Isabel reading, researching. Her wounds had stopped seeping blood. I still suffered weakness from her tainted blood, but I had enough energy to flick through the books, even if it took me longer than normal to read them.

Finally, I found it. The labyrinth was made from Yew plants. Highly toxic alkaloids. My muscle tremors were a side effect. Isabel’s condition was most likely a symptom of the poisoning. There was no known cure. I swore but returned to reading. Atropine sulfate counteracted the symptoms in the heart. Other therapy involved care support such as fluids. I had none of that here. I flicked through the pages looking for an explanation of what atropine sulfate was.

Many books later I found it. Atropa belladonna. Commonly known as a deadly nightshade. A picture sketched in the book reminded me of a plant I saw in the herb garden. I stretched my legs and made my way to the patch of carefully tended soil. There amongst the more common herbs sat a belladonna plant with tiny dark purple berries which according to the book, the deadly nightshade was as poisonous as Yew.

I might be about to make a huge mistake. I should read more books, but how long did Isabel have in that state before she died? Did vampires die from poisoning? I understood so little still. My rage bubbled inside me. I stripped a leaf from the plant before I talked myself out of it. It irritated my skin on contact. I carried it back to Isabel and wiped the leaves over her wounds which had thankfully not bled again.

I threw the leaf away. Sat back and waited for a reaction. When none arose, I picked up another book, but then her body jolted. Her limbs twitched.

And her eyes flew open.