A FEW GOOD MEN
I stepped outside onto the front porch and spotted Aidan still tied up in the same rocker. Aidan’s head slightly nodded my way. His eyelids were heavy. He appeared drained and his face carried the color of agony. I didn’t notice any blood lining the magick rope or his white shirt. A good indication that the rope wasn’t cutting into his skin. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the druid was ill. Yet how was that possible when he was an immortal?
He started a violent bout of coughing. His face paled and his lips changed to blue. He was choking, struggling to breathe. I huffed a loud sigh and spun on my heels, heading back inside.
When I returned, I had a glass of tap water and a cloth for the blood he just coughed up. I wiped the blood that drooled from the corner of hi
