Caressed by Ice p-3

by Nalini Singh

  Cauterizing the pain, he shoved with enough Tk that the wolf released him, giving him a chance to get back on his feet. His arm hung by his side, useless until he could knit the nerve and muscle together. Bleeding from the arm and from deep gashes in his chest, he arrowed his abilities and forced power into his right fist. When the wolf launched himself a second time, he smashed his fist into the animal’s windpipe. It went down but only for a second before slamming into his chest and bringing him to the ground once again.

  Wolf jaws neared, their lethal intent clear—to crush his neck.

  Judd had been trying not to kill, certain this was a SnowDancer—and which one. He hadn’t forgotten Riley’s calculating calm at the meeting today. But now he had no choice. He was bleeding too badly. Gathering everything he had, he prepared to punch into the changeling’s mind. The wolf would be dead in about one second flat.

  CHAPTER 23

  “Judd!” The scream was so unexpected, he froze. So did the wolf. A second later, it jumped off his body and streaked off into the darkness. He could have reached out and destroyed it at that distance, but he held back. If that wolf was one of Brenna’s brothers…

  “Judd.” Hands cradled his face as he sat up. Trembling fingers wiped raindrops from his skin. “My God! Your arm is shredded!”

  “Brenna, what are you doing here?” He was already sending power down his arm, starting to knit the bone—the capability to heal himself was an adjunct of his Tk-Cell abilities.

  “I can’t believe you’re giving me shit when you’re bleeding to death!” She grabbed his uninjured arm, slung it around her shoulders, and pulled him to his feet. She was slight, so even with her changeling strength, it took considerable effort.

  He’d lost more blood that he’d realized—his thinking was going fuzzy, causing him to fumble as he tried to fix the damage done to him. He should’ve killed his attacker in that split-second window between sound and hit, instead of trying to deflect. But then Brenna would’ve looked at him with hate in her eyes. Unacceptable.

  “Come on, the car’s not far.” She put an arm around his waist. “Why didn’t you teleport away when he attacked?”

  “Requires concentration.” He’d had no time to settle his thoughts into the right patterns. “I’ll drive,” he said as they reached the car.

  She deactivated the lock by placing his thumb against it, then slid back the passenger door. “I thought you Psy were logical. You’re in no condition to drive.”

  But he wanted to. Vaguely aware that that wasn’t a rational desire, he let her half drop him into the passenger seat and close the door. Only when she was inside, too, did he start using all available power to minimize the injuries. Despite his erratic concentration, his arm was nearly back to functional, though it looked mauled. However, the blood loss was having a cumulative impact. He could hardly think, much less focus on fixing the holes in his torso. As a result, the gaping cuts continued to bleed.

  “Lara’s too far.” Brenna started the car. “Hospital! There’s one—”

  “No.”

  When it looked as if she was going to ignore him, he grabbed her with his injured arm, shooting pain up his body. “I can’t be DNA traced. The kids.”

  “Oh, God, I forgot.” She wrapped something around his arm. “You’re losing too much blood to wait till we get back to the den.” It was already soaking through what he now realized was the damp wool of her coat. “Your chest, baby, your chest!”

  He knew he needed help—the wolf had damaged a major artery or vein, he couldn’t tell which at this point. He was able to keep the wounds from bleeding out but that was all. “Tamsyn’s close. Coordinates.” He managed to tell her the location of the DarkRiver healer’s home before blackness descended.

  Brenna brought the car to a screeching halt in front of a large ranch-style home about twenty minutes later. A scowling DarkRiver male opened the door before she’d even gotten around the engine. She recognized him as Tamsyn’s mate. “Help me!”

  He ran to the passenger-side door. “Shit,” he said when he saw Judd. “Move.” Pushing her aside, he grabbed Judd’s unconscious form and went to put him in a fireman’s carry.

  “No!” She slapped a hand on Nate’s back, bare since he was dressed only in a pair of old jeans. “His chest—”

  Nate looked down and seemed to notice what Judd’s torn sweater and jacket had hidden. “Christ.” Slinging Judd’s arm around his neck, he half dragged, half carried the other man into the house. “Damn Psy’s heavier than he looks.”

  She’d noticed that, too. Judd seemed to have a higher bone mass than most other Psy. But right at that moment, all she cared about was the fact that he was breathing. Following on Nate’s heels, she barely remembered to close the door behind her.

  “Put him on the table.” A crisp feminine command. “Kit—go up and make sure the cubs don’t come down.”

  “Sure.” A tall auburn-haired teenager with sleepy eyes slipped past her.

  “Chair.” Judd’s voice kicked her heart into hyperdrive. “Not table.” A demand.

  “He’s as stubborn as the rest of you,” Tamsyn muttered, belting her robe. “Put him in the chair before he collapses and makes a mess of my floor.”

  Brenna hovered as Nate obeyed Tamsyn’s command. “Who did he piss off this time?” the leopard asked, as Judd dragged himself upright in the chair, eyes not fully focused.

  “Honey, could you get me the stitch gun?” Tamsyn was already working with healer efficiency, cutting off the clothing on Judd’s upper body.

  Judd didn’t make a sound or betray pain in any other way. But when his eyes met Brenna’s, she was sure she saw worry in them. For her. Why? Not wanting to be in Tamsyn’s way but needing to touch him, she waited until the healer had disposed of the clothing before going to stand at his uninjured side, one hand on his shoulder. His skin burned.

  Startled, she bit back her gasp. Judd’s skin had always felt slightly cooler than hers, as did Sascha’s and Faith’s. But tonight, he was an open flame. “Can I do anything to help?” she asked when he didn’t push off her hand.

  “Here.” The healer handed her a damp cloth. “Gently wipe off the blood on his chest so I can see how deep the wounds are.”

  “Not that deep,” Judd muttered, the words slurred but understandable.

  “Be quiet.” Tamsyn’s tone was pure steel. “You could be a cat—bleeding to death but refusing to admit it.”

  Nate walked in at that moment with a small metal case. “Julian’s still asleep. Roman woke, but Kit’s got him occupied.”

  Nodding, Tamsyn began to clean the obvious blood off Judd’s arm as Brenna did the same to his chest. At least he’d stopped dripping fresh blood; it was clotting faster than she would’ve believed possible even a few minutes ago.

  “Changeling wolf claws and teeth, if I’m not mistaken,” Tamsyn said, looking to Brenna for confirmation.

  “Yes. In full wolf form.” She didn’t know if that made any difference, but it seemed to be the sort of thing a healer would want to know.

  “That shouldn’t be a problem, but I’ll give him an antibiotic shot anyway. Judd, are you allergic to anything?”

  Judd shook his head very slowly. “Antibiotic fine.”

  “Good thing we’re not infectious,” Nate said from his position leaning against the counter, “or you’d be going furry pretty damn soon.”

  Brenna jerked up her head, about to tell him to stop with the cracks, when she realized he was trying to distract Judd from what had to be excruciating pain. Not that you could tell from looking at him.

  She’d grown up around hard men—Riley was a SnowDancer lieutenant and when Andrew wasn’t babysitting her, he controlled the volatile San Diego sector for Hawke. Her father had been a soldier, too. But even her brothers would’ve winced at least once by now, and she knew for sure that they’d have sworn a blue streak and probably picked a fight with Nate to keep their minds off their mangled skin.

  Not Judd. H
e was as unmoving as a statue.

  Cleaning away the blood, she accidentally touched the raw edge of a wound. Her stomach clenched as if the hurt were her own. “I’m sorry, baby.” Just because he showed nothing didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Surely even Psy were incapable of shutting down their pain receptors.

  His gaze never moved off her. The contact was intense in spite of the creeping fog in his eyes, but she held it, unable and unwilling to leave him to suffer in the cold loneliness of Psy Silence.

  “I’m going to start stitching you up,” Tamsyn said, breaking the heart-pounding connection. “Here comes the antiseptic.”

  Brenna had her hand on Judd’s chest as she wiped away a final red streak and even so close, she didn’t feel him flinch. That was beyond control—it was terrifying. What had Judd been through to gain such merciless command over his physical responses?

  She saw Tamsyn pull out the stitch gun. “Wait! Aren’t you going to anesthetize him?” Those snapping stitches hurt.

  “Psy have odd reactions to drugs, anesthetics included. Sascha and Faith put themselves under.” The healer met Judd’s eyes. “Can you do that for me?”

  He gave a small nod. “Yes.” Closing his eyes, he went absolutely still. Brenna couldn’t even hear him breathe.

  Handing Nate the bloody towel, Brenna gripped Judd’s hand and watched Tamsyn begin repairing muscle damage with a tiny internal-use stitch gun. “You’re very good.”

  “I have a medical degree. Figured I might as well back up the healing gifts with good solid knowledge and equipment so I don’t spend my healing energy unnecessarily.” There was a darkness to the other woman’s tone, as if she were remembering a time when her gifts hadn’t been enough to save a life. “And you know how it is—we can assist each other with ideas and strategies, but changeling healers’ gifts only really work well within our own animal species. I can’t even get the gift to recognize Judd.”

  Brenna nodded. “What did you mean about the drugs?”

  “Hmmm.” She handed a slender metallic torch over to Brenna. “Shine that here so I can see what I’m doing.”

  Keeping one hand on Judd’s, she did as asked. The beam delineated every tear, every shredded piece of flesh. Worry clawed through her veins, but she made sure her hand didn’t shake.

  “It’s got something to do with their abilities and how energy is processed,” Tamsyn said, picking up the thread of the conversation. “That’s why Jax messes them up so bad.”

  Nate’s explanation was blunter. “Drugs fuck with their powers. Sascha refuses to touch even beer or wine.”

  It put a whole new spin on what Judd had told her about Jax. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Makes you wonder why they take Jax in the first place,” Nate said. “Doesn’t go with their need for control.”

  “Maybe they want to forget what they’ve become.” Tamsyn’s tone was sad. “Jax degrades memory, too.”

  Nate grunted. “Whatever the reason, it’s still the weak ones who take it.”

  She understood. No matter what the race—changeling, human, or Psy—it was the weak, broken, or damaged members who succumbed. Brenna’s lips tightened. Pain was no excuse for becoming an addict—she hadn’t taken the easy way out and oh, how she’d wanted to. But the worst were the dealers, the scum who preyed on the vulnerable.

  “So,” Nate asked, “you know who did this?”

  Her stomach curdled. “Can we talk about that afterward? I think Judd should be awake for it.”

  “Fair enough. I have to let Lucas and Hawke know you’re here.”

  “Can you hold off for a few hours?” It would give Judd time to recover at least a little and she needed him at her back. If what she believed was true, then she couldn’t do this alone.

  The leopard male studied her for several seconds. “Give me a good reason.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath. The iron-rich scent of blood was overpowering to her senses. Her eyes snapped open. “Because I scented my family on Judd before the rain washed the markers away.”

  “Shit.”

  Judd returned to consciousness two hours after they’d arrived, his eyes looking a touch feverish but otherwise clear. Too clear, given the extent of his injuries.

  “What, you gave yourself a psychic blood transfusion?” Tamsyn asked in a tart tone at odds with the concern on her face.

  Judd flexed the hand of his bandaged arm, the thin white gauze appearing deceptively weak. “I need some food to replace the energy I lost.” Not an answer.

  Tamsyn scowled, but Brenna felt only warmth from her. Like Lara and Sascha, the DarkRiver healer was inherently gentle. “Why does everyone think they can get fed in my kitchen?”

  Nate hugged his mate from behind, kissing the curve of her neck in open affection. “Because even Psy know you’re a soft touch.”

  The other woman’s scowl disappeared and she turned to steal a proper kiss from her mate. “Why do I put up with you?”

  Nate murmured something so low that Brenna couldn’t hear. Looking away from their easy intimacy, an intimacy which held hints of the deepest sensuality and love, she found Judd watching the pair. He glanced at her only after Tamsyn broke from Nate to walk toward the cooler. Dark chocolate eyes met hers. “That’s what you should have.”

  His candor shook her…because it meant he’d accepted this thing between them, this beautiful, powerful thing. “Yeah? Well, maybe I want you instead.” She didn’t care that their relationship didn’t fit into any established box, didn’t care that her wolf didn’t recognize him as her mate. “Just you.”

  “I made lasagna for dinner,” Tamsyn called out. “That work for you?”

  He continued to look at her, as if he’d drink her up with his eyes. “Anything is fine.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t waste my lasagna on you, then.” Tamsyn grabbed a container from the cooling unit. “How about some cardboard instead?”

  Brenna found herself amused in spite of the blood that continued to scent the air and the taut expectation that stretched between her and Judd. Lips twitching, she waited for his response.

  “Cardboard has no nutritional value.” Utterly toneless. “Lasagna would be a better choice.”

  Tamsyn threw up her hands. “I’d forgotten how bad you lot could be. Then again, Sascha was never as bad as you.”

  Something crashed upstairs.

  Tamsyn didn’t seem to notice, but then said, “Honey, could you go up and see if Kit’s surviving our little darlings? Sounds like they’re both up.”

  “He’s fine.” Nate didn’t budge.

  “I won’t attack your mate,” Judd said to the leopard. “I have no reason to.”

  Nate’s response was a grunt. Brenna scowled. It was true that predatory males tended to be extraordinarily protective where their mates were concerned, but surely Judd had earned the cats’ respect by now.

  Fur ruffled, she was about to voice her feelings when Judd glanced at her and gave a slight shake of his head. “It is his home.” His voice was pitched to reach her ears alone. “He has a mate and children to protect and I am an intruder.”

  “You helped get Sascha and Faith out of the Net. You’ve been their friend,” she hissed, raging at the unfairness of it.

  “No.” Judd pulled his hand from hers. “I’ve always acted in my own best interest.”

  “That’s not who you are.” She refused to let him try to convince her otherwise.

  His eyes fixed on hers, the gold flecks darkening to amber. “An assassin who looks after his own skin? That’s exactly what I am, Brenna. I would rather die than harm you, but anyone else? I could kill them without blinking. It’s what I was born to do.”

  Brenna knew she should be happy that Judd had admitted as much as he had about his feelings toward her, but she was still fuming over his intransigence on everything else when she walked into the living room at around seven the next morning. He was attempting to button a vivid blue shirt over his bandaged chest. Even
injured, he was so beautifully built that her mouth went dry and her face flushed. The hunger was piercing, seducing her into moving forward.

  “Let me.” His arm had to be painful. And she couldn’t begin to think about the wounds on his chest. If they had gone a little deeper…

  “Brenna.” He didn’t halt her, but his tone held a dominant undertone she recognized all too well, having grown up with men who suffered from the same chauvinistic streak.

  “I’ve never seen you in any color but black. Blue looks good on you.” She buttoned the shirt over his bandages with tender care. The garment was a fraction loose, Judd’s build more lightly muscular than Nate’s. Her Psy was built for stealth and speed, his body a well-honed weapon…one she ached to stroke. The idea of running her hands over the smooth, powerful lines of his body made her fingers tremble.

  One male hand closed over her wrist. “We have to discuss this before your brothers arrive.”

  Tears in her throat. “We’ve got time to have a cup of coffee.”

  “No, we don’t. Nate made the calls long enough ago that they have to be close.”

  She knew the DarkRiver male had delayed as long as he could, but wished it had been forever. “Just one cup,” she cajoled.

  Tugging at her hand, he forced her to look up. “Why are you avoiding the subject?” The gold flecks in his eyes were sparking bright—it wasn’t her imagination, they really were. Before she could ask him what that meant, there was a commotion out front and her brothers stormed into the living room followed by Nate and Lucas.

  CHAPTER 24

  Riley’s face went hunting-still as he saw Judd’s hand around her wrist. “I swear to God, if you don’t stop touching her, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” Brenna demanded, pulling away her hand but only so she could face Riley. “Finish off the job you started last night?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Andrew reached out as if to grab her and drag her to his side.