Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(88)

"Be sure he is sitting or lying down and that his hand is below the level of his heart."

"Already did that."

"Is he conscious?"

Pamela's eyes met Apollo's. "Yes," she said.

"In a great deal of pain?"

"Yes, he says it feels like fire." Her voice broke.

"Pamela, it is very important that you keep him calm. Do not let him panic. He needs to stay as quiet as possible."

"I understand." Get control! she ordered herself. If she fell apart, he had no one.

"Okay, do you have water?"

"Yes."

"Wash the wound, but be careful not to move his hand or arm around too much."

"I'll do that now, hang on." She put the phone on the ground next to her and grabbed the other bottle of water. "There's help on the way, but the bite needs to be washed out right away. I hope it doesn't hurt, but it might. You're supposed to stay as quiet as you can, so even if it hurts try not to jerk away."

"Do what you must. I will not pull away from you."

When she cupped his hand gently in hers, he closed his eyes, and as she poured the bottled water over the deep fang marks, the only movement he made was the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

She wiped the blood-tinged water from her hands onto her shorts and picked up the phone.

"That's done. What else?"

"Remove any rings, bracelets or watch he has on that hand or arm."

"He's not wearing any."

"Good. Now all you can do is keep him calm and treat him for shock."

"Shouldn't I make a tourniquet or something?"

"No, the bite is too close to his wrist joint. Keeping him quiet and making sure that he doesn't lose any body heat will help him more. Do not let him sleep. He may have a rapid pulse or labored breathing. He may also go into seizures, or even become unconscious. Rattlesnake venom is extremely painful. Be prepared for his reaction to the pain."

"When will the paramedics get here?" It was hard for her to speak through the fear beating around inside her breast.

"They will be there in less than twenty minutes. Stay calm, Pamela. A rattlesnake bite is a serious event, but it does not have to be fatal."

The word fatal knifed her heart.

"I - I am feeling - " Apollo began, but broke off as he tilted sideways, eyes fluttering.

"Gotta go," Pamela told the dispatcher before tossing the phone aside and scrambling over to Apollo. "No!" she said, straightening him back against the boulder. "You can't pass out." She touched his face. His skin felt hot. "Don't leave me!"

His eyes fluttered once more, and then opened. He blinked rapidly, as if he was having trouble focusing on her face.

"Pamela," he said faintly.

"Apollo, stay with me," she said. Reaching into the basket, she pulled out one of the linen napkins, wet it with a little of the water left in his bottle, and gently wiped the sweat from his face.

"That feels good," he murmured, "cool... nice." He grimaced as another tide of molten lava rolled up through his arm. "So this is what it feels like to be burned. Ironic, isn't it, that it should happen to me?" he panted.

"It'll be okay," she said, wiping his brow. "The paramedics will be here any second. They'll bring the antivenin. You'll be okay. You have to be okay."

Apollo blinked again, trying to clear his vision. "You're crying." His unwounded hand tried to brush the tears from her cheeks but ended up falling weakly back to his side. "Don't cry, sweet Pamela. I already told you that the Greek Underworld is a rare and beautiful place. Like you, my soul mate, are a rare and beautiful woman."

"Don't talk about the Underworld!" Fresh tears rolled soundlessly down her face. "You can't die. You're Apollo, God of Light!"

"At this moment the God of Light is very much a mortal man." He paused. His panting was making it difficult to talk. The fire in his arm was spreading quickly. He could feel it clawing up his shoulder and spilling like hot tar into his chest. "Pamela, listen to me. Hades told me that soul mates always find each other. Life after life, they circle back together. Remember that..." The burning in his chest seemed to explode, and his face convulsed in pain. As he crumpled in on himself, Apollo closed his eyes against the agony and he slipped into black nothingness.

"No!" Pamela cried. With hands that shook so hard she could barely control them, she touched his face. Seconds ago it had felt hot; now it was cool and damp. She felt for his pulse and found nothing. No! It couldn't happen like this. It couldn't be allowed to happen like this. She stood up and threw back her head and screamed her rage to the heavens.

"Zeus! Your son is dying! Where are you? Save him - open your damn precious portal and take him home. What kind of father are you?"

Above her, the air suddenly shimmered and then, like the fold of an invisible curtain being opened, a section of the sky parted, and a young man stepped through to hover over her. He was wearing a short tunic, much like the one Apollo had worn the night they met, and golden sandals that had gilded wings flapping at his heels - the same wings that were on his helmetlike hat and the crystal wand he held. His short, curly hair was white-blond, and his handsome face looked mildly amused.