Free Symbiont (Parasitology Book 2) by Mira Grant

wrist, which had somehow been wrapped in a dish towel that was rapidly turning bright red with my blood. He was pressing down hard enough that it should have hurt, and probably would when I took a moment to breathe.
    “Come on, sweetie. I know it hurts, but I need you to stay with me here. I need you to keep the pressure on while I get the first aid kit.” Nathan took my free hand in his and pressed it down on the sodden dressing. I did my best to mimic hismotion, pushing down until there was an unpleasant squishing sensation, things shifting under my fingers that had nothing to do with the towel.
    Nathan, at least, looked somewhat relieved by my response. That made one of us.
    “Stay here; I’ll be right back,” he said, and then he was gone, disappearing into the depths of the apartment and leaving me alone to try to fight against my body’s natural desire to bleed to death. Minnie and Beverly stayed with me, their furry bodies plopped down to either side of my chair and their enormous brown eyes fixed on me, like they thought they could just wish everything better.
    “Should’ve designed dog,” I mumbled, my fully coherent thought—that the Intestinal Bodyguard should have been designed for dogs, which would be much easier things to be than humans—turning into so much gibberish by the time it finished making the journey to my mouth. I sighed and sagged in place, finally allowing my eyes to slide closed. The drums were there, in the silence behind my eyelids, although they were neither as strong nor as steady as they usually were. That was probably a bad thing. Then again, what wasn’t a bad thing, anymore?
    I must have blacked out. That shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, considering the combination of shock and blood loss that I was dealing with, but I was still surprised when I opened my eyes and found myself staring up at the living room ceiling, with a pillow supporting my head. I tried to sit up. A wave of dizziness assured me that this was a terrible idea, and that I should stay where I was for as long as possible. Maybe forever.
    I groaned.
    “Oh, good, you’re awake,” said Nathan. He paused. “
Are
you awake? If you’re not awake, just don’t respond. But I’d really prefer it if you were awake.”
    I licked my lips, which were somehow dry and gummy atthe same time. “How long was I out?” I managed to croak, and felt ridiculously proud of myself for accomplishing that much. Everything was still a little gray around the edges, but it was no longer in danger of being swallowed up by shadows, and I thought that was probably a good sign.
    “Two hours,” said Nathan. I heard him get up. His footsteps moved away, followed by the sound of the fridge door opening and closing. Then the steps returned, moving toward me with purpose. “I’ve been monitoring your vital signs. Your pulse has remained mostly steady, though you should have gone to the hospital, given how much blood I’m guessing you lost.”
    “No hospitals,” I whispered, alarmed.
    “No, no hospitals,” Nathan agreed. He sat down on the edge of the couch, setting something on the coffee table. There was a smudge of blood on his chin, and his hair was even more disheveled, making him look younger and lost. “It was killing me not to take you there, but given what we’ve seen so far today, I think it would have killed us both if I’d tried getting you to the ER. Not to mention the danger that the police would get involved.”
    Possibly forcing him to choose between leaving me there and getting arrested, depending on what story SymboGen was spinning about the break-in and theft of their data. I grimaced. “Thank you.”
    “No thanks needed. We’re in this together.” He kissed my forehead tenderly before asking, “Do you think you can sit up if I help you? I want you to drink some juice.”
    “I think so.” I took his arm, making note of the clean white dressing on my wrist as I did so, and allowed him to half help,