Enticing Blood

*chapter seven

Melanie silently dabbed a cotton ball along Wylde's lip, swiping up the access blood with the fluffy white ball. The cut was already healed, after she had manually stitched it back together, and did the same to the gash on his chest—but the blood still lingered, smearing across his skin and making him a scarlet mess.

Wylde had said that when you manually stitched the wounds back together, they would heal faster. Supposedly, demon wounds from their weapons and or body parts, took longer to heal than regular ones. Demons were the most lethal, right alongside vampires.

Melanie was a little nauseous with the thought of stitching Wylde back together, but he instructed her along the way, and once she was finished, she appreciated her handiwork, and cleaned him up with a couple cotton balls.

"Thank you." He whispered, his eyes watching her carefully. A smile broke Melanie's grim expression and she chuckled, shaking her head slowly.

"You already thanked me, Wylde." Melanie whispered. "Five times." She added, looking up at him.

Wylde scoffed, but he closed his eyes as Melanie switched out the cotton ball for a damp rag and swiped it across his forehead where the blood of the demons was smeared.

"You should thank Dean, though." Wylde finally said, opening his eyes.

"She already did." A voice cut in, and Melanie turned her head and saw Dean standing in the doorway, his arms crossed across his chest. The lighting of the room made the boy look lethal, reflecting off his tanned skin and toned muscle that rippled under his flesh. "How are you feeling, Wylde?" He asked. Wylde held up his hand and gave a single thumbs up.

"Under the care of Dr. Melanie." He snickered. "I think you're next." Melanie examined Dean to see that he too had blood, but across his mouth and under his chin and down his chest. It looked as if he had been feeding on something for an hour and let the thing bleed out on him. He had a long gash across his chest that was still fresh and draining of blood.

Melanie handed Wylde a new black T-shirt and he stood, grabbing the back of his old shirt over his head and yanking down, stripping it off of his body. He pulled the black one over his head and smiled at Melanie, then walked past Dean who still stood in the doorway and left the room.

Dean slowly pushed himself off the frame and made his way to the bed and sat in front of Melanie, his knees bumping into hers. The contact made Melanie jump, although she wasn't sure why. He stripped off his shirt, the muscle beneath his chest rippling under his skin.

Melanie grabbed a new small rag and began wiping away at the blood across Dean's chest, careful of the skin contact between them. Once his chest was clean from any bodily substance, Melanie then grabbed the needle and thread and slightly poked through his skin, just at the edge of the wound. Dean winced, since his pain tolerance wasn't as high as Wylde's, but he was quiet the rest of the time.

He watched her carefully as she slowly threaded the needle in and out of his flesh.

Melanie was the first to speak up: "Thank you." Melanie said quietly.

"Stop saying that."

Melanie shut her mouth, her teeth slamming together. She had said it more times than Wylde had, but she felt that she needed to say it more than ever right now.

He had saved her life, after all.

Carefully, after she had finished, Melanie tied the thread in a knot and took a pair of scissors and cut the thread, then she stuck a bandage over the carefully sewn wound and handed him a fresh shirt. He pulled it over his head quickly.

Melanie kept quiet as she wrung out the bloodied rag in a small bowl that was filled with red water, and went back to wipe away blood, this time on his neck. "Tilt your head back." She instructed.