Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

She laughed a little. “You wouldn’t be like them.”
“Probably not,” I agreed. “People are a blend of external
and internal influences, not all controlled variables.
Sometimes, just sometimes, we are who we are. Even in the
sea, a snake is a snake.”
“A lion, a lion,” she added with a smile in her voice.
Blood from the wound dripped from my skin under the
shirt.
“I should’ve taken you to St. Killian’s,” I told her. “There’s
a room down in the catacombs.”
I paused to make sure she was listening.
“You turn left at the bottom of the stairs and keep going,” I
instructed, knowing she was mapping it out in her head.
“When you feel a draft from your left, you’ve hit a hallway,
and you turn right. Drag your hand along the right wall until
you feel the fourth doorway, and then enter it. Water from the
snowmelt on the hills above the church seeps through the
ground and spills down the walls like a tiny waterfall.” My
arms started to fall, unable to hold her anymore. “You can
smell the wet rock, and there’s a little pool where the water sits
before it drains into a well. In the pool, there’s something you
can have. Something of yours I saved. Something you forgot
about.”
She waited a moment, probably thinking.
“I’m not missing anything,” she informed me. “There’s
nothing I’m forgetting, Damon.”
I closed my eyes. “There is so much you’re forgetting,
baby.”
She moved her hand and then sucked in a short breath.
“What is this?” She panted, fear filling her throat. “Damon,
what happened? Are you injured?”
She lifted my shirt, touching my wound. I grunted. Jesus, it
felt on fucking fire now.
She started gasping. “Will, go to the hospital! He’s been
hurt!”