“You need it,” Bonnie insisted. “Lupita says it will work, and I trust her. Her grandmother was a village healer, and I’m positive she knows what she’s doing. Drink it.” She put all the force and insistence into her tone that she could.
This time, he swallowed, once, twice and a third time, took a deep breath and gulped down the rest. He screwed his face up in a comical expression of disgust, but the liquid was down. Before he could protest further, Lupita smeared a thick layer of the greenish-black paste across his hand, making sure she covered all of the little red tracks and the two fang marks. Then she wrapped a bandana around his hand and tied it snugly to keep the salve in place.
She stood up, nodding to herself in satisfaction. “We do this again later,” she said, “but it will star
