The Blood Contract
Chapter 63: Take your shirt off

Chapter 63: Take your shirt off

The journey outside was a difficult one for Lucian, and he couldn’t fathom why. The moment he stood up from the sofa in the living room, strength left him, but he ignored it and still moved. "No stupid curse would be able to keep him down," he said to himself.

Now standing outside, at a spot where he could clearly see his person of interest without any obstruction, he leaned against the pillar, which provided him some support.

She had tied her hair into a low ponytail and tied one side of her T-shirt against her waist, revealing a small part of her flat stomach.

He watched how she chatted with Darrell with no care in the world, as if she truly was at her workshop, but that was not what amazed him. It was the way she handled the tools with great precision, as if those pieces of metal were made just for her hands. Also, how she patted the car every now and then like a friend encouraging another friend. The sound of her laughter, the look on her face, her carefree attitude—it was all too mesmerizing to watch, even for him.

He didn’t know how long he spent there, but he only realized he had been lost in thoughts and his imagination when he finally heard the car roar to life—a sound that woke him up instantly.

"Yeahhhhh!!!" Serena’s loud celebratory voice reached his ears as she jubilated over her victory. "Told ya the old boy wasn’t a goner," she said, proud of herself.

Her contagious laughter had him smiling, but exhaustion was quickly catching up. Pushing himself away from the pillar, he headed inside.

He didn’t get to climb the third step of the stairs when something he had been expecting hit him, making him freeze and his jaws clench. The stupid pain had become more frequent now, and he couldn’t fathom why.

Standing on that spot, his body didn’t move. His jaws, however, continued to work while he tried to take deep breaths to stabilize himself.

As usual, about thirty seconds later, the pain died down. The exhaustion, however, remained.

Just as he was about to continue his journey upstairs, a voice had him pausing.

"Mr. Draven," Marlowe called, her face like one who was tired of scolding a stubborn child. "Please come with me to the lab," she said to him when he turned his head around to give her his attention. After she left off speaking, she turned around and started towards the lab.

Lucian followed, wondering what was wrong and why she summoned him to the lab. As soon as he stepped inside, she had a grave expression on her face, even while her body rested slightly against her work table. There was a chair right opposite where she stood.

"What’s wrong, Marlowe?" Lucian probed, suspecting something serious was up—only to hear her say...

"Take off your shirt, Mr. Draven."

"Huh?" Lucian tilted his head in confusion.

"You heard me right. Take your shirt off and sit down."

Lucian still didn’t move. He pinned his confused gaze on the woman, who didn’t look like she was going to say anything further.

Letting out a sigh, his hand finally moved to the first fastened button, and he undid it as he trudged toward the chair.

"Can you at least tell me what’s going on?" he asked, still unfastening his shirt buttons one after the other.

"I’ll know when your shirt is off," Marlowe responded, and Lucian gave up. He took off his shirt and sat down, looking expectantly at her for some explanation.

"Why are you so stubborn, Mr. Draven?" Marlowe asked, heightening Lucian’s confusion even as she grabbed a small flashlight and approached him.

"What do you mean?" Lucian asked, even though all his thinking had given him an idea what the woman was talking about.

"I mean, why do you want to get yourself killed?" Marlowe rephrased the question, turning on the flashlight and examining the cut on his shoulder. "Your wound is still not healing properly, yet you decided to say nothing about it all this while." She turned off the flashlight and shot him a scolding glare. "And your curse is back. Am I right?"

"How did you know that?" Lucian asked in a tired tone.

Marlowe didn’t respond as she instantly got to work, checking his blood pressure, heart rate, and attached a different device to his other arm.

With every single check, her expression turned darker and darker, and by the time she was done, she shot him a disbelieving look. "My God! Do you really not care about your life anymore? Your heart rate is shooting to high heavens, Mr. Draven, and you really decided to stay quiet?"

"What do you expect me to do? Should I be panicking and making everyone panic as well? There is no cure, Marlowe."

"There is a temporary—"

"Don’t you even suggest Serena. I will not accept it. I thought I already made that clear," Lucian cut her off.

"I wasn’t talking about Serena," Marlowe said. "But if it comes to that, then I don’t think you should reject it. Do you think the council will leave her alone if you die before completing this mission?

"What if she uses that ability one more time and doesn’t wake up after it? What if it’s the last time she can use it? I will not accept it, Marlowe. That’s final," Lucian decided, closing the Chapter. "Now, if you weren’t talking about her, what were you talking about?"

Marlowe let out a deep sigh, moving to bring out an I.V. setup. "You know I’ve been working on something to bring you temporary relief. I’ve completed it, but I was waiting for when you’d tell me the curse is back so we can test it out. But you decided to hide it," she spoke with an offended tone. "Good thing I noticed it now," she added, stretching her hand in silent demand for his hand, and Lucian gave her what she demanded, a sigh escaping his lips as well.