by L. S. O'Dea
“You’re right about that.”
“I’m right about most things. You either refuse to admit it or don’t realize it.” He grinned. “Yet.”
She shook her head and headed into the brush. If she stayed one more minute she’d claw that smug look off his face.
“Where are you going?” He followed her.
“To get some herbs for your hands.” If she didn’t tell him, he’d pester until she did.
“They’re fine.”
“They are not fine.” She grabbed his wrists, grimacing at the raw, blistery mess. They were worse than she’d thought. “They’ll get infected. They may be half-way there already.” She bent closer, sniffing. No infection, just the scent of raw, bloody flesh. Good.
“I had worse injuries in prison and they weren’t treated.” He pulled his hands from hers and started to put them in his pants pocket and winced. “I’m not going to let some infection stop me.”
“They’re oozing blood.”
Say stopped in a nearby tree, grunted and licked his lips.
“Exactly. The predators smell the blood and know food is around.” She jabbed him in the chest and he flinched. “Oh, stop being a baby. I didn’t poke you that hard.”
“Fine, but I’ll help you gather the herbs.”
“Do you know what yarrow looks like?”
“No, but you can show me.”
“Go to the river and wash up.” Oh, what she wouldn’t give for his silence now.
“It’s getting dark. Jackson said the River-Men were more active at night.”
“They are but you don’t have to worry. They won’t be in this water.”
“Are you sure? You said you’d never seen one come after a boat or jump.”
He was so annoying. “It isn’t like I’ve spent my time studying them, but I do know that they won’t be in this water. It isn’t deep enough. If they’re there, you’ll see them.”
He eyed her warily.
He was scared and she didn’t blame him. “You’ll be fine. I’ll only be gone a few minutes.” She put her hand on his chest.
He flinched again. “I’m not scared.” He unsheathed his knife, his jaw clenching as he struggled to grasp the weapon. “If you’re not back in five minutes, I’m coming to find you.”
“Just wash your hands.” She turned and left. Like he’d be any help. He wouldn’t even be able to find her in the woods.
The yarrow was easy to locate and it only took a few moments to gather what she needed. She loaded up her backpack and headed to the stream.
Hugh was leaning against a tree by the river. A wide grin lit his face when he saw her. “There you are. I was getting ready to look for you. It may have taken some time. My tracking skills are a bit rusty.”
“I’m glad that I hurried then, because otherwise I’d be running all over the forest trying to find you.” She cringed inwardly at her tone. She should apologize, but there was something about him, especially when he smiled, that put her on edge.
His grinned died. “You don’t have to stay with me any longer. Point me in the direction of the city. I’m sure we’re close. I can—”
“So you can renege on your promise to help us win this war? I don’t think so.”
“I said I’d help and I will. Don’t question my word.” He started to run his hand through his hair and then dropped his arm, glaring at his hand. “It’s the only thing I have left.” He took a deep breath. “Seriously, though. If you can get me to the city, I’ll be okay. I still have a few contacts.”
“Just stop, okay. You can’t do this alone. You have no friends in the city, no contacts.”
His jaw hardened. His eyes were angry but there was pain lurking in their shadows.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” Her words had been unnecessary, cruel.
“Don’t ever apologize for speaking the truth.” He motioned at her backpack. “Don’t you have some herbal remedy to make? We’re losing time that Reese doesn’t have.”
He was a master at turning her guilt into anger. She dropped her backpack by the river and took out the yarrow and a small bowl she used for food. She mixed the herb with water to form a paste. Then, she pulled her blanket from her backpack and sliced several strips off the bottom. “Give me your hand.”
He walked over and sat on the ground next to her. “They’re fine.” He stuck his arm toward her. “But you won’t rest until you’ve gotten your way and I don’t want to listen to you griping at me the rest of this trip.”
“They’re not fine.” She would not poke him with her claws just to prove how not fine they were. She wouldn’t. She slathered paste on his injuries and couldn’t help but smile at his sharp intake of breath. “See. Healthy skin doesn’t hurt when it’s touched with a little water and yarrow.” She wrapped a strip of cloth around his hand.
“It wasn’t the paste. It was you slapping it on my hand.”
“I did not slap you.” But now she wanted to. She should let his wounds get infected, but since he was traveling with her, she couldn’t. She had to protect him and avoiding predators was easier than fighting them. She shoved his arm back toward him. “The other one.”
He turned, giving her his other hand. “Try and be gentle. I know it’s not in your nature but...”
She wanted to spread the paste with her claws but she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t in the habit of hurting the injured and his skin was torn up. She smoothed the balm over his wounds with her fingertips. “Everyone else that I tend says I have a gentle touch.” She glanced up at him. “But, I’ve never taken care of an Almighty. You must be more sensitive.” She had no qualms about hurting his ego.
He met her eyes, a slight smile on his lips. “You would’ve slayed me days ago with that smart mouth of yours if I were sensitive. I think it has more to do with who you tend.”
“What do you mean by that?” She started winding a strip of cloth around his hand.
“Your usual patient is male, right?”
“Yeah.” She glanced at him warily as she finished wrapping his hand. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He used his knuckles to lift her chin so she was looking right at him. “They’re probably so smitten with you that they don’t feel anything.”
He was staring at her lips again. She couldn’t help it. She wanted him to kiss her. She had no idea why. He was annoying and arrogant and she wanted to slap him most of the time, but right now, here alone with the night approaching, she wanted to kiss him. She leaned forward slightly. His eyes darkened and then he dropped his hand and shifted away from her.
“I’m too old to be fooled by your gorgeous eyes and”—his gaze roamed down her frame—“body. I’ve been around you enough to know that you’d drive a sane man crazy.”
She was going to kill him. She was really going to kill him. “That’s great because not only are you a weak Almighty, but you’re a jerk and a coward.”
“I’m not a coward because I don’t want to fight your war.”
“Too bad, because we have a deal or did you lie when you said your word meant something?” Right now, she didn’t care if he led their army. All she wanted to do was get as far away from him as possible. His words had hurt, but she was done crying over males, especially Almighty males.
“We have a deal.” He stood. “And we should get moving.”
“Not yet. Take off your shirt.”
He raised one eyebrow.
“It’s full of blood. We need to bury it.” It didn’t have anything to do with her wanting to see him without his shirt again. That was just a perk. “I put two others in your backpack.”
“Should I take off my pants too?” He pulled the shirt over his head, wincing a bit at using his hands.
Her eyes roamed down the lower half of his body. He had nice legs, long and strong. He cleared his throat and her eyes flew to his face.
“Holy Araldo, what happened to you?” She jumped to her feet. She’d thought the blood on his sh
irt had been from his hands, but his chest was filled with punctures and scratches, some fresh, some already partially healed. Her face paled as she touched the skin near one of the largest, fresh wounds. “I did this.”
“It’s nothing.” He stepped back, grabbing his backpack from the ground.
“When?” Those marks were hers, but she’d never poked him that hard. Never.
He pulled out a shirt and she grabbed his arm, stopping him from putting it on.
“We need to clean these.” She couldn’t take her eyes from the wounds.
“They’re fine.” He tried to break her hold but she wouldn’t let go.
“No.” She tugged on his wrist and he let her lead him to the water. She cut another strip from her blanket, wet it and gently touched one of the lesser scratches. “I...I don’t remember doing this.” She glanced up at him and he was watching her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Like I said, it’s nothing. You didn’t mean to do it.” His voice was quiet but there was a roughness to it.
“When did I do this?” She moved on to another cut. “Please tell me.”
“The swamp. After you jumped.”
She’d climbed him like a tree, not thinking of what her claws would do. The only thing in her mind had been getting away from the River-Man. He hadn’t made one sound, not one complaint. She had no idea how to make this right. She’d hurt him. Some of those punctures were deep. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve...you should’ve...”
“It’s okay.” He took the cloth from her and stepped away to rinse it in the river. “You were scared and fleeing for your life. You’d just saved my life.” He straightened and began cleaning his other wounds.
“And you’d saved mine.”
He tipped his head in acceptance of that statement.
“I still shouldn’t have done what I did. I climbed—”
“I’m happy to act as your tree anytime you need to get away from some deadly monster.” He grinned.
“Did they do this to you in jail?” Her fingers trailed to the older cuts.
“No.” He flushed.
“That’s right. You weren’t injured on the rock island.” Her fingers traced a long scratch that trailed from his waist downward. “This didn’t happen in the forest. The only other place...Ray’s.” Her eyes flew to his face. His gaze was hooded, watching her. Her face heated and she bent to pick up the bowl. “I’m going to need more yarrow.”
He didn’t say a word, but he continued to stare at her.
“There’s blood on your jeans.” Were there scratches from Ray’s girls down there too? “I put extra pants in your backpack.” She grabbed a large leaf and scraped the rest of the poultice onto it, handing it to him. “I’ll make up some more while you go and”—she waved her hand at his body—“apply this.”
By the time she’d returned, he had on a clean pair of pants. She bent by the water and made more paste. She’d never realized that mating could be so...so...painful. She glanced at him. Did he like being clawed? She frowned. Not when she poked him. He yelled at her for that. She walked over to him and shoved the bowl of yarrow into his gut. He could put it on himself. She was done tending to him. She bent and gathered his clothes.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m going to bury these.” She couldn’t look at him. She kept seeing him with those other females and it made her want to puke.
“Give me a minute and I’ll go with you.”
“Just clean your wounds.” She stormed away. She knew even less about what happened between males and females when they mated than she’d thought. She’d never imagined clawing her partner, but Ray’s girls knew what males liked so it must be something that happened a lot.
She dug a hole and buried his clothes by the river. She didn’t care what had gone on with him and Ray’s girls. It had nothing to do with her. It was none of her business. So, why couldn’t she stop imagining it—them kissing him and scratching him in places she couldn’t even picture. She splashed water on her face and returned to where she’d left him, praying that in the dimming light he couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks.
She led him to a large tree that was similar to the one where she’d first met Gaar only smaller, a lot smaller. There were several trees like this scattered throughout the forest. She preferred sleeping up high but if she had to sleep on the ground or hide out for a length of time, one of these “hollows” was the preferred location. With Hugh as her traveling companion, sleeping up high would be difficult.
“We’ll rest here tonight.” This tree didn’t have a door like the one Gaar usually used, so she moved the branches that were bent to cover the small opening, pulled her knife and peered inside. “It’s empty.” She stepped back. “You first.”
He ducked and went inside the tree.
Say was curled up on a nearby branch, watching her.
“You can sleep in here with us, if you like.” She wanted to beg the Servant to join them, but that’d be the fastest way to ensure that he wouldn’t. He was quite the contrary little fellow. “Hugh won’t like it, but we can make room for you.”
Say blinked and turned his back to her.
Well, that settled that. She was going to be wedged in the dark alone with a male who—no matter how much she fought it—she half-wanted to kiss and half-wanted to strangle. She took a deep breath. She’d sleep. She couldn’t kiss him and he couldn’t annoy her if she were sleeping. She bent to enter the tree and bumped into Hugh on his way out.
“Ouch.” She rubbed her head. “Why are you coming out? Is there something in there?” She tried to peer around him.
He touched his head and winced, dropping his hand. “You go in first. If anything comes, I should be at the opening.”
That was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. It wasn’t her fault he drove her crazy. It was his. “What are you going to do that I can’t? Even sleeping I can smell and hear anything that approaches. If something does head this way, I’ll know before it gets here. You wouldn’t know until it was eating you.” She clamped her mouth shut. She could’ve stopped a sentence earlier.
“Right. I forgot. You know everything.” He started to turn and then stopped. “Oh wait. You didn’t know that River-Men could jump. That might’ve been a good thing to know before sending me out on a rope like a carnival snack.” He shot her a disgusted look and crawled back into the hollow.
She followed. At least she didn’t have to worry about wanting to kiss him. She had no idea why she’d even thought about that. He was a jerk. She attempted to adjust her position so that they wouldn’t touch but it was impossible. She elbowed him in the back and side as she tried to get comfortable.
“Ouch. Aren’t you settled yet?” He glared at her over his shoulder.
“Not quite.” She poked him in the ribs again. Tonight, she was going to be very particular about how to position herself for the greatest comfort.
“If you don’t stop jabbing me, I’m going to roll over. Maybe, we’ll fit better curled up nice and close.”
“If you touch me, I will stab you.”
“Then stop hitting me.”
She shifted once more with a slight elbow to his side.
“That’s it.” He started to roll over.
“I’m done.” She curled on her side, not sure what she’d do if he followed through with his threat. They both knew she wasn’t going to stab him.
He grunted and turned back around. “Goodnight.”
She remained silent, closing her eyes and trying to sleep. The minutes ticked by. There was no sound inside the tree but their breathing. He hadn’t fallen asleep yet either. She was exhausted, but she was also angry and a little curious. She’d never slept this close to a male besides Gaar and Jethro that one night on the island when he’d held her in his arms.
CHAPTER 33: HUGH
A SCREAM STARTLED HUGH awake. He sat up, knocking his head against the inside of the tree. “What is it?” He pulled out his knife and turned toward th
e opening when Trinity screamed again.
“No. No.” She thrashed in her sleep.
He took a deep breath as he sheathed his knife and then shook her. “Trinity, wake up.”
She squeaked, lashing out, claws slicing into his arms and chest.
“Wake up.” He tried to get ahold of her hands but she was fast and she scratched him again. He grabbed one wrist and shoved her arm behind her back, rolling her over and pinning it underneath her. He caught her other hand between them and used the weight of his body to keep her from slashing him again. Her claws dug into his shirt. “Damnit, wake up.” She was reopening his wounds, but if he let her go, she’d attack again. He whispered in her ear. “You’re fine. Safe. It’s a dream. I’ve got you.” As he mumbled anything soothing that popped into his head, her struggles lessened and then stopped.
“Hugh?” Her voice was cautious but not scared, although her heart beat fast against his chest.
He leaned up so he could see her. “You were having a dream. A bad one.” He should move. She wasn’t going to hurt him now, but he didn’t want to. She felt right in his arms and under him. He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, her eyes never leaving his as her hand came up and touched his face. “You’re alive.”
“Yeah, no thanks to you. You’re lethal with those claws.” His tone was soft and teasing.
“Did I hurt you again?” Her hand trailed down his neck.
He flinched as her fingers brushed a tender spot. He rolled away, missing the softness of her beneath him.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. It wasn’t you. Not in my dream.” She leaned over him, her fingers roaming over his chest.
“It’s okay. I know.” He caught her hands before they touched too much and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. She was driving him crazy. He wanted to protect her, kiss her and strangle her all at the same time.
Her eyes were on his mouth, her body pressed against his. “I couldn’t save you in my dream.” She pulled her hands free and rested them against his chest. Her head dipped a little closer. In a second her lips would be on his.
