Page 68 of Clash of Sin and Secret

“Or he’s got one helluva leak.” I yank his shirt open, throwing the two sides open as I take in his blood-soaked body. “Where’s Jesse?”

“She’s in the clinic with the injured,” someone answers.

Scooping the six-foot-six Viking into my arms, I lift him from the floor. My boot skids in the blood pooled on the marble, but once I get my footing secured, I’m racing to the clinic.

Vampires have incredible healing abilities, so if Huntley’s still bleeding this badly after this long…something is very wrong.

Scottie

I have no chance of keeping up with Zane when he’s in a dead run, but I’ve spent enough hours in the clinic over my lifetime to know my way there. When Tucker and I arrive, we rush straight past the group of battered and broken seethe members crowding the little waiting area and into the examination room beyond.

The panic in that room is thick, the worry on Zane’s face alarming.

Jesse has been the doctor in charge of the Vasari vampires since long before I was born. She’s uber smart, intuitive, and focused. And, being a vampire, she moves with incredible speed and precision.

As she scans Huntley, Zane works with her to remove the Viking’s clothes. I rush forward to help. My fingers tremble as we uncover his body.

There are areas of claw slices knitting back together, bruises fading before our eyes…and yet blood spills from Huntley’s wounds, pooling on the ground.

“What is it? Why isn’t he healing?”

Vampires often ignore physical injuries because they are crazy good at healing. So why is he still bleeding?

“When was the last time he fed?” Jesse asks, looking first to Zane and then to me. “And I mean a quality feeding. Warm body. Fresh blood.”

Zane frowns. “I don’t know. Not since before the raid, for sure. But even then…I don’t remember.”

Jesse frowns. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall, right?”

Zane curses. “He’s been so worked up since the attack. And I—well, he’s been busy doing double-duty, guarding me and searching for our enemies.”

Jesse’s hands move over Huntley’s body blurringly fast, her touch both methodical and clinical. “Put pressure here.” She points to a jagged slice across Huntley’s torso. “Hold the two sides of the wound together while I hang more blood.”

My hands are slick with Huntley’s sickly sweet blood, but it feels like I’m drowning in panic more than anything else.

Zane finishes with Huntley’s boots and slices up both of the legs of his pants to get those off, too. His jaw is set tight, worry swirling in his emerald eyes. “Why the fuck didn’t he tell us he’d been gored?”

“A healthy mix of adrenaline masking the severity of the wounds and male pride.” Doc Jesse finishes hanging two more bags of blood. One is vampire blood and is being fed into the intravenous tube in his arm. The second is human blood and is draining into the mouthpiece she has strapped over his face.

“You mentioned fresh, warm human blood being better,” I say, looking up from where I’m still holding his torso together. “He can feed on me.”

Zane lets off a long, feral growl, and I meet his narrowed gaze. “This is Huntley we’re talking about. You’re not really going to get into a territorial pissing match over my blood if it can save him, are you?”

The fact that it takes Zane so long to reply is telling about how possessive Zane is about another man taking my blood.

But even before he can answer, Jesse replaces my hands with hers and edges me out of her way. “It’s a kind offer, Scotland, and a good thought, but not tonight. In fact, I need you and Tucker to leave the clinic.”

“What? No!” My protest comes out sharper than intended. “Huntley’s in trouble. I need to be here.”

“But having you two here is the opposite of what Huntley needs.” Jesse’s comment hangs in the air between us as she works fastidiously over Huntley’s injuries. “When his healing catches up with his injuries, he’ll wake. With this much trauma to his system, his vampire instincts will override the man. He’ll be in a feeding frenzy and the two of you will be nothing to his beast but a handy buffet option.”

“Then let him feed off me.” I blurt out before I can think better of it. “He saved my life last week. I’ll return the favor.”

Zane growls again and shoots me a withering glare. “No. If Huntley’s beast is in control, he could rip out your jugular or slice your femoral artery. It’s too dangerous. Tucker, take her back to the residence.”

“What if I donate and I’m not in the room?” I ask.

Jesse shakes her head. “That’s noble, but it would take too long. I’m topping him off with bagged blood to stabilize him overnight. He’ll have better control tomorrow after some rest. You can revisit the idea then if you still want to help.”

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