Accepting Fate - (Slums to Riches, Book one)

Chapter 22

Logan rushed to Michael and checked his vitals. "He's still alive, but his pulse is weak. Whatever you were going to do, do it fast."

Angelique shook her head and wrung her hands together. "I don't know what to do. I always know everything, but I didn't study for this. My brother is going to die and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I'm not a doctor."

The slap came hard and fast. Her hand went up to her stinging cheek and her tears dried as shock took over.

"Get your head out of your ass and do something. Mickey needs you, not this sniveling fool!" Andrew shouted.

She blinked and then stared down at the unconscious boy. She could always trust Andrew to get her head on straight, even if it hurt at times. However, his methods had Logan glaring and growling, ready to strike. She applied pressure to her heated cheek and sent some healing magic into herself.

"Of course," she shouted. The foreign words repeated in her minds again, followed by some images. "I'm such an idiot. I had the solution all along." She shoved Andrew back towards the door. "Get out. I need to concentrate."

"No way. I'm not leaving until he's on his feet again."

She knelt down opposite Logan. "Please get them out of here. I can't be disturbed. Do not let them back in, no matter what you hear."

The boys fought valiantly, but with the help of Ben, Logan closed the door behind them. The shouting continued for about a minute and then everything went silent, so she concentrated on the words.

When she laid her hands on Michael's stomach, she doubled over. Pain ripped through every muscle in her torso and a bitter taste filled her mouth with each breath. She concentrated on the pain, trying to find its origin. It appeared as though his appendix ruptured, which might poison his entire body in seconds.

She mumbled the words as they played through her mind, repeating them over and over. Her hands glowed and a fowl, brown sweat seeped out of his pores. She didn't stop until her pain diminished and Michael's bloated stomach deflated.

As the light faded, she moved her hands around his stomach and repeated the mantra when they flared up again, until they dulled and blinked out completely.

While she rubbed her hands together to warm them, Michael blinked his eyes open.

"Hey, there he is. I know you must still be in a lot of pain, but how is your stomach now?"

His brown hair fell over his eyes as he turned to look behind her. "My stomach is fine, but my throat is on fire. I wanted to get some water, but I didn't make it to the table." His voice came out as a croak. When she turned to the table, the contents lay shattered on the floor.

"Logan, could you bring me a glass of water and a straw, please?"

The words barely left her lips when a knock sounded and Cook walked in with a tray. "I sent them to the kitchen to have breakfast. I thought this young man could use some tea to regain some strength. Lord knows when last he ate. Those other two are scoffing down burgers as though they haven't seen food in years."

They ate demon slime for eight years. What did she expect?

Cook glanced at her as she waved her hand at the overturned table. She forgot for a moment Cook could hear her thoughts. Cook set the tray on the table and handed Angelique a cup.

"You drink that one, while I help Michael with his tea."

Angelique wrapped her fingers around the heated cup and sipped slowly.

Cook gently raised Michael's head and held a straw to his lips. "Careful now, it's still warm."

He started off with small sips, but then swallowed mouthfuls as he grew accustomed to the temperature of the tea. Finally, he laid down again and sighed.