Page 16 of The Eagle and the Shrew

“To only drop off food?” Anson asked, wondering why Nari thought that the agents who had been interrogating him over the past few months stopping by would ease his mind. Did she expect them all to sit around the fire and sing “Kumbaya”? Maybe she thought he’d be better with familiar faces. Though he wasn’t thrilled with them joining them at the cabin, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. As long as they didn’t put him in the hot seat again. The red-haired agent scared him a little. Not that he would admit that to Nari.

“And medical supplies. You need a splint for that arm.” She pointed at his sore arm. He wondered if it was still fractured. It probably was. Shifters healed pretty quick, but fusing bones was different from skin knitting itself back together. It took more time.

He snorted and immediately grabbed for his ribs. Maybe he wasn’t as healed up as he hoped. “Damn it.” At this rate, he would never rescue his sister.

As if reading his mind, Nari softly said, “We’ll get her back.”

A knock at the door interrupted his nod. He turned to see the agents who’d questioned him back when he was first captured. A part of him wanted to assist them. He was desperate to get Ariel back, but Grimm scrambled his mind so much that he thought no one—except the man who had his sister—was capable of helping. Knowing that was illogical didn’t seem to help. The thought of giving any useful information to the agents sickened him.

Seeing the agents again brought back a slew of emotions. Anson felt stuck on the teeter-totter of helping them or pretending to assist. He swallowed his emotions as best he could, hoping that after breakfast the ache and nausea in his stomach would settle some. While he definitely did not trust the agents, he did his best to accept Nari’s judgement of their situation. She had rescued him from the crash site. And hadn’t eaten him. Though it was beyond frowned upon to eat another shifter, Anson’s mistrust of others did have him genuinely doubting at times the eagle shifter would pass up a tasty shrew snack.

Nari waved the agents in as she crossed from the kitchen to the front of the cabin. The agent with the red, curly hair entered first, her wedge heels slapping the floor like webbed bird feet. Anson had been so consumed with his personal feelings about the agents that he almost missed the fact that something was happening between the two women in the room. Agent Sparks’ sharp gaze locked straight on Nari, and the usually poised eagle seemed to shrivel under it. Anson was relieved to see he wasn’t the only one intimidated by the curly-haired agent.

The few seconds of silence seemed full of tension until Agent Sparks waved her hand to clear the air. “I’m not going to hurt you, Nari, “ she said with a chuckle. “It’s just a car, and I have insurance. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

Nari kept her distance. “I can pay for whatever the insurance doesn’t.”

Then it clicked. Shit. The red sports car they were driving around in was this woman’s car! No wonder Nari was keeping her distance. That had been a nice vehicle. Until they wrapped it around a telephone pole.

“Nonsense. It was a work-related incident. FUC is on the hook for that.” She gave a reassuring smile, her bright red lipstick bringing out the rosy undertones of her medium-brown skin. Then she held out a pink reusable bag covered in rhinestones or sequins or something that made it shine in a way very unlike that of a traditional first aid kit. Flashy. Just like the sports car. It told him a lot about Agent Sparks. “Here’s the medical supplies you requested.”

“Thank you, Cass.” Anson noticed Nari’s use of Agent Sparks’ first name. He wondered if the two ASS agents had a history together.

Anson’s gaze drifted to the man in the cowboy boots—Agent Stone, the hound dog shifter.

“I have your groceries,” Agent Stone said as he sauntered through the cabin to the kitchen and placed the bag of food on the counter.

Nari followed him, her posture more relaxed now that she and Agent Sparks had cleared the air. “We just woke up. I haven’t had the chance to discuss anything with Anson.”

What else was there to discuss? Anson had no idea how long Agent Stone and Nari had been talking before he woke up. All he’d heard was what seemed to be the tail end of their discussion, when Agent Stone had offered to bring supplies.

“We can make time now,” Anson stated. “Do you have a lead on finding my sister?”

“Not exactly.” Nari frowned. “How about before we get into it, you let me take a look at your arm?”

Agent Sparks spoke up. “Why don’t Grayson and I work on making breakfast while you two tend to the bandages?”

Agent Stone grunted in agreement. Anson allowed Nari to lead him back to the living room, the pink, glitzy first aid bag gripped firmly in her hand, the glitter and gemstones on the cloth catching the morning light, sparkling like tiny stars.

Nari beckoned him to sit next to her on the couch. Dust wafted up as she sat down. Anson wondered how he’d been able to sleep on it without noticing how worn out it was. He told himself there was no harm in sitting on the couch now. With a grimace, he sat next to Nari, trying his best to pretend the torn fabric wasn’t dirty. At least it was better than that motel they’d stayed in. He started rubbing his hands on his pants all the same, trying to get rid of any contamination. Anson knew that logically he couldn’t rub anything off his hands, but it did quiet the rising anxiety. At least briefly, anyway.

“Does it hurt to sit?” Nari asked, probably noting the look of discomfort on his face.

“No, I—” He gulped down the heat of embarrassment, centering himself. “I just noticed how disgusting this couch is.”

Nari clasped her hands together, a bright smile lighting up her face. “That’s great news!”

“It is?” He wasn’t sure why the couch being gross was such a great thing. He was trying his best not to feel his skin crawl from disgust. Or run away screaming. Though his body probably wouldn’t allow him to get away that fast.

“Of course. Last night, you were too banged up to notice. It means your body has made a lot of progress in healing itself.” Anson tried his best to return her smile. “May I?” Nari asked, indicating that she wanted to inspect the bruising on his arm. He nodded. She gently lifted the sleeve of his T-shirt to peer at the skin underneath. “It’s still pretty bruised. How does it feel?”

Anson didn’t even try to lift his arm; he knew the answer. “Not great, but better than yesterday.”

Nari pulled the pink bag closer to her. Sunlight filtering through the window reflected off the gemstones on the bag, sending small balls of light across Nari’s face. She poked around the contents until finding what she needed, pulling out a black arm splint to help immobilize the limb. “I’m going to do my best to not hurt you while I strap this on.”

Anson stifled a chuckle, doing his best not to blurt out a sexual joke. Instead, he centered himself to better deal with the pain and said, “Just get it over with.” He pressed his lips together, trying his best to ignore any discomfort as Nari gently moved his arm to slide it into the splint. Her soft fingertips glided across his skin, sending shivers through his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to not let on how much he enjoyed her touch. He thirsted for it like parched earth desired rain.

“Does that hurt?”

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