Page 26 of Handcuffed to the Bear

CHAPTER9

When Jack’s eyes closed,Casey’s panic spiked. He looked like he’d passed out, and maybe he was dying, and what was she supposed to dothen?

“Jack!” she said, shaking him.

“Ngghhh. Fuck.” His eyes flickered open, dark brown with glistening reflections of the sky. “You’re the one who said I oughta lay down.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t tell if you were, um—”Dyingsounded a little too desperate. “... all right,” she tried.

“I will be. Gimme a minute.” He closed his eyes again, and without opening them, he said, “My body’s healing. It just ... takes a lot out of a person. I’ll be okay.”

Casey had a terrible feeling that Jack was not okay and not likely to be okay anytime soon. His whole left arm was a red, wet mess. There wasn’t just nice clean blood like on TV, but different colors of red and dull, bloody whitesomething, like exposed gristle or tissue. A long flap of skin hung down.

Her first-aid experience consisted solely of television and books. She was capable of putting on band-aids when she cut herself in the kitchen, and that was about it. She’d always meant to take a CPR course but never seemed to get around to it. And now here she was, in the middle of the woods with the biggest, most badass guy she’d ever met, who had just turned white and keeled over while bleeding all over the place.

Shifters healed faster than normal humans, but could even a shifter heal something likethat?

Staring at his arm, she didn’t even understand most of what she was looking at. The only thing she knew for sure was that blood didn’t seem to be spurting out. She’d read enough and seen enough TV to know that spurting blood was bad. Like, fatal kinds of bad. Instead it was leaking slowly, soaking from his arm directly into the forest floor.

Beyond that, she had a vague idea that applying pressure would be helpful, but she had no idea what to apply pressurewith, or what part of the arm to apply itto. Was this the sort of situation where a tourniquet would come in handy? Yeah, she thought, good luck finding something to make it out of.

“Casey,” Jack said through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’m here.” On the bright side, she didn’t feel in any danger of throwing up or passing out. The gory mess of his arm was actually kind of fascinating, in its own way. And it took her mind off how much her foot was hurting.

“I need to elevate my arm. Do you see anything to prop it up with?”

“Um, not really. But hang on a minute.”

The ground here consisted of a mix of half-rotted leaves and pine needles. It seemed like the worst possible thing to be getting all over any part of the human body that looked like his arm did. However, it was soft and she was able to scrape it quickly into a pile underneath his arm. She was also able to do it without touching his arm much, which seemed like a good idea. His jaw was clenched, his face white.

“Jack, you’re bleeding a lot. Do you need a tourniquet?”

“No.” His eyes cracked open. “That’s only for the worst kinds of bleeding, when it’s a case of losing the limb to save a person’s life. I don’t think I’m that far gone yet.”

“What can I do, then?”

“Pressure dressing.” He sounded tired. His eyes closed.

“Jack. Hey.” She prodded him until he opened his eyes again. “I don’t have one. We’re in the middle of the woods, remember? What is there out here in the woods that I can use to stop bleeding?”

This, at least, got him to focus on her, looking a trifle more alert as he thought about it. “Sphagnum moss. It’s mildly antiseptic and was used for dressing wounds before the modern era.”

“Where should I look for some?”

“We,” Jack said. He closed his eyes again, screwed his face up, and then made an effort and sat up. Bits of dirt and leaf litter stuck to his arm. She’dknownthat was a bad idea.

“You’re supposed to stay lying down!”

“Can’t,” he said. “Need something to make a dressing out of, and you can’t go anywhere without me, remember?”

“Oh, shit.”Fuckthe stupid handcuffs.

“And besides, we gotta get moving again. We might as well be sending up a big red flag to the rest of the pride sayingHere we are, come get us.”

“Right.” For a moment, Jack turning white and keeling over had washed everything else out of her brain, including their desperate peril.

Now, as she helped him up, the hunted-animal feeling came rushing back. Every rustle in the forest, every snapped twig, made her jump. The hairs were standing up at the back of her neck.

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