Page 12 of Only Cold Depths
Kyrion’s lips pinched into a thin, grim line at my black humor. “In addition to sensing your injuries, I can also tell when you’re lying.”
“So our truebond is nothing but a giant tattletale?” I muttered. “Wonderful.”
He stabbed his finger at my burned arm. “Bond aside, anyone could see that your skin is more thanjust alittle charred. Hold still.”
Kyrion pulled his silver bandolier of supplies from his back around to his chest. He plucked a skinbond injector out of one of the slots, then plunged it into my arm, right above my elbow where the burn stopped.
A skinbond did just what its name implied—it stitched cut, bruised, broken, and otherwise injured skin, muscles, and bones back together. A cool wave of chemicals flooded my veins, soothing the intense burning. I sighed with relief. Some of the redness faded from my skin, although the blisters, tightness, and throbbing remained, as did the deep puncture wound.
“You’re still hurting,” Kyrion murmured, his voice lower and more concerned than before. “Here. This should help.”
He gently cupped my left cheek in his right hand, and his thumb stroked over my skin, making me shiver, despite my injuries. Kyrion’s dark blue eyes glimmered like stars, and the sticky cobweb of him in my mind surged, pulsed, and expanded, until I was securely wrapped in the threads of his magic. A strange sensation flowed through my body, as though I was being bundled into a cool cocoon, and each new smooth, silky layer lessened my pain.
I glanced down again. My burned arm looked the same as before, and I could still feel the tightness and throbbing, but the sensations were muted, as though they were on the outside of the cocoon that was protecting my mind and body from the stark, vivid pain.
“What did you do?” I asked, staring up at Kyrion.
“I created a psionic shield to help you block out the pain. A trick my father showed me. Chauncey would do the same for Desdemona whenever Holloway took my mother’s power.” Kyrion grimaced and dropped his hand from my cheek as though his right arm was suddenly hurting him as much as mine had been hurting me.
My eyes narrowed. “Wait. Did you just take my pain for your own? Psionically absorb it so thatyouwould experience it instead ofme?”
He shrugged, but it was a guilty, uncomfortable motion.
“You didn’t have to do that, Kyr,” I protested. “Igot caught and injured by the bounty hunters, soIshould be the one suffering the pain and consequences, notyou.”
His face softened, and he gently brushed my hair back over my shoulder, his fingers skimming along my collarbone and making me shiver again.
“Iwantedto do it,” Kyrion countered in a low, fierce voice. “I will always protectyou, Vesper, no matter what the cost is tome.”
My heart soared at his words, even as guilt stabbed into my chest like a sharp needle pinning a flapping butterfly to a display board. If only I’d been smarter, faster, and stronger, then neither one of us would be hurting.
“Besides, I’ve had far worse injuries as an Arrow. I know how to erect psionic shields to numb the pain until I can get medical treatment.” The corner of Kyrion’s mouth quirked up into a rueful expression. “Although I’m not nearly as good at creating shields as Zane is. He could take a mortal wound and keep fighting, at least until his power gave out and his psionic shield finally cracked.”
My heart lurched at the mention of my brother, but I shoved Zane out of my mind. Instead, I looked out over the bounty hunters. Smoke wafted up off their burned bodies, and the acrid stench of blaster fire lingered in the air like a cloud of death.
“Don’t feel sorry for them,” Kyrion growled. “The bounty hunters brought this on themselves. They didn’t have to chase after you.”
“You’re right. Iknowyou’re right. It’s just . . .”
“What?”
I blew out a breath. “I hate that people are dying because Holloway put that bounty on us.”
“I hate it too,” Kyrion replied in a soft voice. “But it was either them or you, and I will choose you every single time.”
Once again, my heart soared, but before I could tell him I felt the same way, sirens blared in the distance. We both flinched at the high-pitched screeches.
Kyrion cursed. “Someone must have heard the explosion and blaster fire and alerted the authorities. We need to find another way out of here.”
He moved past Rina’s blitzer and ran toward the back of the junkyard. I limped over to my shopping bag, dropped to my knees, and scooped the wayward fruits and vegetables back into the cloth. We still needed fresh food, and I wasn’t about to leave a single mango behind.
My fingers brushed up against the ice-blue box with the butterfly pin. I considered leaving the cursed thing behind, but I couldn’t risk the purchase being traced back to me, so I shoved it into the bag as well.
I glanced around, making sure I hadn’t missed anything, and my gaze landed on Rina’s body. Her mouth was frozen in a pain-filled grimace, and her sightless eyes glared at me in accusation. Blood was still trickling out of the ugly wound in her chest, and the drops had already formed a dull, rusty pool underneath her body.
“Vesper!” Kyrion called out. “Back here!”
I slung the shopping bag onto my left shoulder and got to my feet. The abrupt motion made the pain of my burned right arm flare up again, like a stream of scalding lava oozing through the cool cocoon Kyrion had built around my mind. An instant later, more of Kyrion’s power surged through the bond, rebuilding the cocoon and numbing the hot, jagged edges of my injury.
