Free 97 (Rise of the Battle Bred) by V. L. Holt

right, Miss?”  A paramedic asked me. I looked down and realized I was covered in blood.
    “It’s not me! My cousin!” I turned and started across the field. I expected to see the two figures again, but there was only one. It looked like…William.
    He stood over another dark shape.
    I reached them, my breaths coming in deep gasps now. “Mick!” My cousin lay upon the ground. In the dim light of the rising sun, I could make out his features. He grimaced. Blood smeared his face and upper arms.
    I saw his bike leaning against the swings, and papers scattered all over the tan bark of the playground. I knelt down and stroked his face. “What happened?”
    The paramedics gently pushed me aside. “Let us get to him, Miss,” One of them said. They brought out their equipment, and I watched helplessly as they prodded Mick for his wounds. They asked him what hurt.
    I stood and William came around to me. He was breathing hard too, and looked at me with a strange expression on his face. “What?”  I asked him. I kept looking at Mick and the paramedics, trying to gauge what was going on.
    William spoke. “He should be fine.”
    I’m sure my brows were meeting my hairline. “How do you know?  What are you doing here?”  I recalled the blur rushing past me, and the heat I felt from a warm body. And William telling me to stay where I was. “How did you know I was here?”
    William still looked at me, concern etching his face. He reached up as if to stroke my cheek, but then his hand fell back to his side. “I saw you racing past my house. I thought you might need help.”
    “What were you doing up this early?”  I asked him. I tried to ignore the frisson of pleasure that tickled the pit of my belly at his pronouncement.
    “My Misrillet…” he answered with a shrug.
    “Oh, right,” I peered around William’s bulk to see what the medics were doing. They mumbled to each other and into a walkie talkie. More sirens sounded and a squad car showed up.
    William touched my arm. “Really. He’s going to be okay.”
    I nodded. I watched the cop get out of the car. Crady’s dad was a detective.
    He started walking across the field toward us. Then my mom’s car screeched to a stop behind the cop car.
    Crady spilled out wearing bunny slippers and a frou frou robe. Her sleep mask was on her head; she looked like a pastry on legs, legs which were now pumping madly while she raced to us.
    I ran to her and we met in a blast of worry. “Thanks for coming!” I said.
    “What happened?”  She asked at the same time.
    “I don’t know. The medics are taking care of him. He could barely talk on the phone. There was blood…”
    Crady stepped back from me and looked at me in the dawn light. “Is this his blood?”  She asked me.
    I looked down. I was a hot mess. My arms were scraped up and bleeding, especially my elbows and one shoulder. I had holes in my pajama bottoms, and my feet were scraped up too. As I stared at my wounds, I felt the adrenaline fade and the hot sting of pain start flaring across my body. Suddenly, I felt exhausted.
    My mom came up to us. One look and she demanded I return to her car. “I’ve got this,” She said to me with conviction when I protested. “I called Mick’s parents. They’re coming too. If they don’t get here, I’ll ride with him to the hospital. You need to get home and get cleaned up.”
    Crady nodded vigorously. “I’ll help her. I can drive her home.”
    “Thank you, Crady,” Mom said. She nodded to William, not asking what he was doing there.
    William looked at Crady and me expectantly.
    Crady seemed to guess what he was thinking. “Of course you need to come with us. You can help me clean her up. She’s going to need minor surgery, I think,” Crady said drily.
    We started back across the field, and my feet chose this moment to start to really hurt. I began limping every time I stepped on a rock or twig.
    Without a second thought, William picked me up and carried me to