Page 47 of Unholy Gambit: Checkmate in Blood
“Some stuff, you don’t fuck with. I’m one-third demon, and you’re surprised I believe in ghosts and demons?”
Well,fuck. When he put it like that…
Chapter 13
Axel carried her through a side door of the complex and up the stairs to the eighth floor. She was bleeding still — not fast, she was in no danger unless it got infected, but the sharp, copper scent of his Aurélie’s essence in the air meant he’d failed her.
Aury pointed to a closet, he opened it, and she said, “Fuck. She has the big kit with her. Grab the small one. It should have what we need.”
He held her with one arm, grabbed it with the other, and strode to her bedroom. He gently settled her on the bed, and then pushed her down when she tried to sit up.
“I won’t break because of a cut on my leg!” She sat up again. “Chill! I’ve been hurt worse and survived, we just need to clean it, so it doesn’t get infected.”
He shook his head at her, but let her sit up, propped back on her hands. The wound was only seeping blood. She wasn’t going to lose much more with her heart higher than the injury.
“At least the dress didn’t get hurt,” she said. “I even managed to keep it out of the blood. Can you hand me one of the oversized shirts out of the closet, please?”
He gave her an incredulous look, and she lifted a brow. “Or I could stand up and go get it myself.”
Damned hard-headed human. He walked into her closet and returned with the black shirt he could see in her thoughts.
He turned while she pulled the dress off and put the tee on, and then turned back to look at her.
“Thank you,” she said with a sweet smile, as if she wasn’t sitting there with an open gash on her leg, worried about a fucking dress.
He glared at her. “Your leg is bleeding, you’re holding tension in your lower back that has it on the edge of going into spasms, I just carried you off a fucking haunted hill where an invisible bastard slashed the fuck out of your leg, and you were worried about your dress getting blood on it?!”
“You’re pissed.” The surprise in her voice telling him she’d been oblivious. “It was also about not having my boobs all front and center, not just keeping the dress clean.” She gave a tiny shrug. “This shirt is black, so if some blood gets on the bottom, it won’t stain it, but mostly, I’m not spilling cleavage all over the place.”
He gave her a steady look, and she sighed. “I’m sorry I worried you. Thank you for taking care of me.”
Only slightly mollified, he opened the trauma kit, strode to the bathroom, washed his hands, found a dark towel, returned to her, carefully slid it under her leg, and settled the saline, gauze, and tape in easy reach.
Aury had a flashback of all the doctor visits. Hospital stays. He could sense her thoughts, focusing on his face while he worked, telling herself it was different. A minor little wound.
He leaned in, cleaned the cut with the saline. “You were accurate. It’s borderline but should be okay with butterfly bandages.”
She’d winced a little from the saline, so he decided to take it upon himself to turn her pain sensors off before he put the antiseptic on.
“I’d have done that if I couldn’t handle it.” Her scent told him she was edging past irritated, but her voice was completely calm. Reasonable. “Pain is important. It’s how you know if something is healing or getting worse. I need a baseline reading now. Turn it back on, please.”
He didn’t look up to respond. “I can tell by scent if there’s a problem.”
“Handy. Turn it back on, Axel.”
He shook his head, but he did as she asked.
He took his time with the butterfly strips, his hands steady, sure.
* * * *
“You’ve done this before,” Aury commented. The pain was back, but he wasn’t hurting her any worse while he pulled everything back together with the adhesive strips.
He glanced up, looked back to the job at hand. “I’ve lived a long time.”
“I’m pretty sure butterfly bandages haven’t been around seven hundred years.”
He chuckled. “And you’d be right.”
