Page 77 of Blood Stone
Yet.
Timing was everything now. Timing was critical.
Move, he told himself.
Nial was looking down at his stomach, where a dark stain was spreading on the black tee-shirt. The shirt had been ripped open. And he was starting to fall.
Winter was staring at Nial. She hadn’t processed what had happened to him yet and she wasn’t feeling the pain herself. She could only see the blood on Nial’s skin. Her mind hadn’t caught up with all the facts.
Garrett gripped Nial’s shoulder, straightening him up and holding him upright. “Stay on your feet,” he muttered in his ear. “Whatever you do, don’t crumble now.”
Nial nodded. His eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the suddenly difficult task of simply standing. “Winter,” he breathed.
“I’ve got her,” Garrett assured him and squeezed his shoulder. He took the two steps between Nial and Winter and hooked his arm around her. “Come on, Annette,” he said, in a louder voice. “These night shoots really don’t agree with you, do they? Let’s find you somewhere to lie down.”
“What?” Winter asked, her expression vacant and bewildered.
Garrett half dragged and half carried her toward the catering van, intending to slip around behind it.
The scene was breaking up now. Crew members were spreading out around them. Kate would be returning to her chair, and her P.A., the young thing that was still plagued with pimples, would hover by with her clipboard. They had to get away from everyone now their attention had relaxed from the hard focus upon getting the scene in the can.
The last thing Kate needed was an assassination scare and neither Nial nor Winter could afford to let it be known a sniper’s bullet had just passed through both of them, yet they were still alive.
Sebastian hurried up to them and picked up Winter’s other arm. “I saw her start to slither,” he said, his voice low. “What happened? Is she ill?”
Garrett should his head. “Not here,” he said shortly, saving his breath for carrying her. Winter had become almost a complete deadweight and he was using strength and power to make it look like she was still doing most of the walking. “Help Nial, instead.”
“Nial?” Sebastian repeated, alarmed. He let Winter go and turned back to where Nial, Garrett presumed, was following behind them.
“What the fuck?” Sebastian breathed softly. “Ó jesus liaigh, mháthair Mary. You didn’t duck, you dumbfuck?”
“Didn’t see it coming,” Nial replied, sounding tired. “Armour-piercing round. I couldn’t stop it from taking Winter, either. Someone has to dig the bullet out of the side of the camera mount it drilled into, before it’s found.”
“I’ll get it,” Garrett said. “As soon as I know you two are okay.” He rounded the back of the van. It was cool and quiet and dark here. Better still, it was relatively private. He propped Winter against the wheel, sitting up. Her eyes were closed.
Sebastian lowered Nial to the ground next to her and he settled on his knees, studying her. He was alert and aware and the flesh peeping through the jagged hole in his tee-shirt showed pale and whole. He had healed already.
Not so Winter.
Sebastian ripped her business-like jacket open. The silky shirt underneath was covered in blood. He moaned, his hands hovering over the mess. Delicately, he reached around behind her, feeling her spine and back. He lifted his hands up. They were covered in blood, too. In the dark, the blood was an ochre-brown, but the coppery smell was an unmistakeable siren song that told Garrett he needed to feed very soon. He felt his nostrils flare.
“Straight through,” Nial breathed. “High velocity sniper rifle. A human would be dead, or close to it.”
“How does this work?” Garrett asked. “Why isn’t she healing like you?”
“She has to be conscious to heal herself. It’s a deliberate act.”
“You mean we have to wake her, make her feel the pain and fix it?” Garrett asked, appalled.
Sebastian breathed heavily, controlling his reactions.
“It’s that, or let her die,” Nial replied.
Garrett hesitated.
Nial pushed him aside, leaned forward and smacked Winter sharply across the face. “Winter!”
Winter moaned, a deep furrow creasing between her brows.
