Page 6 of Tempting Jupiter
“Short for Feeona, but let’s keep that between us, okay? I’d offer to shake hands, but mine are all bloody and yours are, well…” She shrugged and it turned into a shoulder roll. “I’d better look at that other wound but let me clean my hands first.”
She started to stand and he wasn’t ready for her to go. “Wait.”
She stopped and looked at him, eyebrows arched high over those intelligent green eyes.
“Help me free my claw first. It will require putting your hands in the blood again.”
She nodded. “Tell me what to do.”
He bent his hand back to try to work the curved tip out. “Press against the skin around the claw.” He cut his instructions short when he saw that she understood exactly what he intended. Her palms rested flat on his belly. The heat of them burned her touch into his memory. Her fingers pressed, gently working his claw out of the injury. When she had it mostly free, he flexed his hand to retract his claws. The trapped one slipped free.
She seemed to shake herself, then stood and strode over to a cleansing station in the corner. “You got a name?”
He could think of no reason to hold back the name chosen for him by the masters of the arena. “Jupiter.”
She looked over her shoulder as she held her hands out toward the cleanser. “Suits you.”
“Does it?” He’d never bothered to ask if the name had meaning.
“Sure.” A chemical mist soaked air whooshed across her hands, removing all traces of his blood. “Old Earth mythology, right? God of sky and thunder.”
They’d named him for a god. The thought galled him.
She threw away the gauze in a waste disposal unit. When she returned, she went back to work, treating his injuries with calm efficiency. Her graceful movements reminded him of Seneca. Smaller and leaner than other Arena Dogs, Seneca had mastered every frightening technique that relied on dexterity, agility, and precision. It had honed him into something deadly but fluid and sensual.
Jupiter needed more information if he was to find his pack brother. “Who brought me to you?”
“Captain Fitzhew and his crew, but not to me specifically. I’m not a medic. I only know the basics.” She pressed her fingers gently around the edge of the shoulder wound. “Injuries are always a possibility in my line of work.”
Gentle as her fingers were, pain spiked through his shoulder. He clenched his teeth and kept his misery to himself. “Your line of work?”
Eyes on his injury, she pressed again. “It doesn’t look infected, and the original sealer is mostly intact.” At the sound of the groan he could no longer contain, her head lifted. She studied his face with a grim expression. “I get things for people who want them.”
He didn’t understand, but he was grateful that she’d returned to the conversation. And what did he know of the human world beyond the arena? “If not for your healing skills…” He stopped to catch a breath. “Why did they bring me to you?”
“Like I said, they didn’t. They brought you here, and I just happened to already be here.” Her lips pressed together in a grim line. “As far as I can tell, whatever’s wrong with your arm isn’t related to this shoulder wound.” She waited until he nodded then got to her feet. “This is the brig, by the way. The lock-up onboard Fitzhew’s ship.”
He barked his frustration at his own lack of knowledge.
“Relax. It’s not so bad.” She tapped the bed above him. “It even has a shiny metal bunk. Only one. Could be crowded.” She shrugged, then closed the box of depleted medical supplies. “Oh, right. Almost forgot, you’re going to kill me.” She turned away and began to clean up. “Maybe that’s what Fitz had in mind. I guess if you do, you’ll have the bunk to yourself.”
He watched her work to clear away the used gauze and stow the supplies under the bunk. Like one of the exotic beasts the masters occasionally brought into the arena, she behaved like no other creature he’d encountered. The unpredictability of those animals made them the most challenging foes. “Why are you helping me?”
“I was tempted to let you bleed out. So I could keep the bunk to myself. But I didn’t want to sleep in here with your dead body.” The cold sarcasm drained away. “And your friend is a hard man to say no to. He asked me to help you.”
“Seneca.” The knowledge that he had survived the attack lifted a weight from his chest. He breathed a little easier, but he needed to be sure his pack brother was still okay.
She crouched over him again. “Is that his name?”
Jupiter nodded. “How long ago did you talk to him?” He tried to sit up, but her hand on his chest stopped him.
“You’re not strong enough for whatever you’re thinking. Seneca’s fine for now. He was walking on his own, and Fitz wants him alive.”
Jupiter used his good arm to get some leverage. “You don’t understand.”
She quirked a narrow eyebrow as she met his gaze. “I did mention this is the brig, right? Even if you get on your feet, you aren’t getting through the pulse field.”
“I have to get to Seneca.” She couldn’t understand their bond. Even among Arena Dogs, his bond with Seneca was special.
