Fine Lines: Burn Outs #2 by Hermit Dani & Star Nevi

Author:Hermit, Dani & Star, Nevi [Hermit, Dani]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Boris wasn’t entirely certain which drugs Curtis had taken, but he knew an overdose when he saw one. Leaving Matt and Thomas to recover Colton was a hard choice, but even a lousy junkie like Curtis didn’t deserve to die alone in a dingy bar.

What Curtis needed was the overdose kit the Priests used to make sure he travelled with. Obviously, since he was no longer under the supervision of the Priests, Curtis no longer carried it. What kind of person was this Necromancer if he was willing to let Curtis go out into the world where temptation lurked around every corner without any kind of precautions?

Boris remembered the vial of blue goo. Curtis had talked about it being the best high of his life. But when he’d forced some into Boris’s mouth, there had been no high. Just an awful cold medicine taste. He was going to have to get it analyzed, but Boris now suspected that was the precaution.

But not knowing what it was, he wasn’t about to give some to Curtis. What he needed was to get him to an emergency room, but that would throw up too many red flags. The Necromancer was certain to find them. So, the next best thing was to get an ambulance to Curtis. The ones who regularly worked this sort of neighborhood frequently had a regimen of overdose counteracting drugs. Hopefully whatever Curtis took wasn’t something uncommon.

Again, Boris was left with the dilemma of calling an ambulance to the bar. That would be logged. Curtis’s name might be recorded. Red flag.

So he did the next best thing. He stole one.

Leaving it on the side of the building kept the ambulance out of sight. Hopefully, it would be a little while before anyone noticed that it was gone from the parking garage. And thankfully, his form had reverted to his usual one. No more trying to hide ears and tail while he moved around. And he was larger, stronger in this form. There was very little chance that he’d be able to carry Curtis to the ambulance as Cat Fight.

“Okay, buddy,” Boris tried to sound like he wasn’t verging on murdering Curtis himself. “Let’s go. We’ve got to get some medicine in you and this isn’t the place.” He tried to pull the barely aware Curtis to his feet.

“Oh, hello, Bori. You’re early. Is it time to go for breakfast? You look just like the pictures of you holding the numbers in the news.” He leaned against Boris. “I’m not feeling so great though. Wait here. I’ll go make myself more presentable.” He pushed himself off of Boris and stumbled a few feet away.

“Fuck! Get back here.” Boris caught up to Curtis, wondering if his Chosen metabolism was keeping him from actually overdosing and maybe he should just leave him here. Boris grabbed his arm and steered Curtis towards the side door.

“I just want one more hit so I’m more fun to--” Curtis’s legs seemed to give out. “Huh, that’s not good.

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