Return of the Dragon Master

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Tom's scream echoed down the street, he knelt on the floor, holding his fractured wrist against his chest, his expensive suit now looking tighter on him. The intimidating look he had was now gone, he looked humiliated and furious.

Lewis stated with a blank expression. “I told you three seconds.” He turned around and walked back to the car.

Irene hadn’t moved, she stood beside the car door, watching Lewis with her gray eyes, she had told him not to do anything and had believed Tom would really hurt him.

She was trying to process everything.

“We can leave,” Lewis said, glancing at her.

Closing her gaping mouth, she got in.

Mark, the driver, pulled around Tom’s abandoned car without a word and drove through the road. In the rear view mirror, Tom was still on his knees, his men gathered uselessly around him.

The car remained silent.

Irene sat straight, her hand folded in her lap, Lewis glanced out the window, neither of them saying anything.

Finally, Irene spoke. “He’ll retaliate.”

“Let him.” Lewis shrugged.

“You don’t know who he is.”

“I don’t need to.”

She studied the side of his face and smirked. “You’re either very confident or very reckless.”

“Your grandmother is dying.” Lewis pointed out, still looking out the window. “That’s what matters right now.”

Her eyes warmed before she turned back to the road. “Yes.” She said quietly.

They soon arrived at the estate, which had grand and secure iron gates that swung open as the car approached. Large stone columns, tall dark windows that have the old money that didn’t need to be announced.

Lewis stared without a comment.

Getting inside, the butler led them upstairs silently, the hallway smelled like something old that Lewis couldn’t place at the moment.

Three doctors stood near the window of the bedroom talking in hushed tones to each other. They looked tired and disappointed but were trying to maintain a cool face. Glancing at Lewis as soon as he appeared in front of them they dismissed him almost immediately.

He was used to that.

His eyes focussed to the woman lying on the bed, her silver hair spread across the pillow and her breath uneven.

One of the doctors walked in behind Lewis. “Miss West, are you really going to consider a quack like him? He’s only going to exploit you.” Dawson pointed at Lewis. “Just look at how haggard he looks, even the lowest-paid doctor in this country doesn’t look that way.”

“Am I here to serve looks or heal a dying patient?” Lewis asked before Irene could answer.

Dawson gritted. “Oh please, it’s obvious that you’re a quack, do something stupid and you will end up killing that old lady.” He turned to Irene. “Miss West, I’m sure you want the best for your grandmother, this man will take the last line of life she’s hanging on.”

“I believe you’ve been trying to heal her and yet what did that yield?” Lewis stared as angry lines formed on Dawson's face.

“Do you have any idea who I learned my medical skills from? No one could rival him, I learned from the very best…. Doctor Gunter.”

Lewis remained neutral. “Learned from the best on how to kill patients? Such a joker.” He scoffed.

Dawson clenched his fists. “How dare you! If he were standing here, you wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye.”

“Why would I want to look at an under-skilled loser? Spare me the thoughts and let me perform my duties.” He reached for Mrs. West Eleanor’s wrists but Dawson beat him to it.

“What do you think you’re trying to do? You don’t even know what sort of sickness she has, I bet you would never figure it out.” He snickered.

Lewis glanced at her pale wrinkly skin, shallow breathing, and knew exactly what had happened, for her to still be alive meant she had a strong will to live.

“Organ failure in addition to an unknown infection,” Irene said beside Lewis. “She’s undergone a series of tests by specialists and still no cure has been found and I can tell she’s obviously a thin line away from death.”

Lewis stared at Dawson who didn’t want to budge. “Mr. Dawson let him check my grandmother, you had your turn and still can’t help her.” Irene sighed.

“But miss…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” She said through gritted teeth.

He reluctantly let go, stepped aside but still in Lewis' space.

“If anything happens to her, you two will be held responsible by the West family,” Dawson warned, feeling his ego being trampled on.

Lewis checked her pulse at the wrist with two fingers, examined the color of her nail beds, stared at the slight discoloration tracing beneath her jaw… the doctors had recorded it as bruising.

Looking closer it wasn’t bruising.

He pressed two fingers to the inner vein of her wrists and shut his eyes, his breathing slowed.

“He doesn’t even have any equipment relating to a doctor, are you sure you didn’t pick up a madman?” Dawson continued to rant.

“Mr. Dawson, if you continue to act this way, I will have to send you out of here.” Irene glared.

Dawson clenched his fists by his side, he had been the family’s doctor for almost a decade and there had never been anything that he couldn’t treat, all of a sudden he was going to be tossed aside because he couldn’t help a woman who was already two legs in the grave?

His breathing slowed as he listened to the pulse, a sharp pain from the dragon ring hit him, without pulling away he continued to listen to the pulse, this time it was sharper.

He opened his eyes. “Clear the room.” He ordered.

Dawson burst into laughter. “Who are you ordering? Everyone here is a top doctor and Miss West here isn’t someone you can boss around… if you call yourself a doctor then do the job yourself.”

“Clear the room,” Lewis repeated, still calm.

Irene glanced at the men and tilted her head toward the door, Dawson clenched his teeth before turning to walk out with the others, clicking the door shut.

Irene stayed. “I’m staying here… to see.”

Lewis looked at her for a moment before turning back to her grandmother Eleanor. He took out a small cloth from his jacket pocket, which Zullian had pressed in his hand six months ago, and told him it was going to come in handy. Unfolding it on the bedside table, it revealed thin needles of different pin sizes.

Picking just two he moved to Eleanor’s neck that had a faint trace of visible dark veins.

Irene watched inquisitively.

“This isn’t an illness,” Lewis said.

Scrunching her brows she asked. “What do you mean?”

“Nightsilk root, administered gradually over two weeks in small doses to metabolize before standard blood work detects it.” He looked up at her. “It mimics organ failure perfectly.” He paused. “Someone with daily access to her has been doing this.”

Irene went stone cold. “Can you stop it?”

“Nothing I can’t manage, although I would need some herbs to fully heal her.” He turned back to Eleanor. “These needles will suppress the poison.” Moving slowly he was about to place the needles on the veins

The door barged open. “Stop you lunatic!”