Chapter 9 On Our Watch
Koa
“Come on, Casimir!” I muttered under my breath, glancing back at the open doorway. “Where are you with that moon-damned med kit? I’m sweating bullets here!”
Not that we had a lot in the kit that would benefit our beloved right now. As dhampirs, we healed fast from all but the most gruesome injuries, so we didn’t stock first aid supplies. Bone saws, antitoxins, and hex elixirs, sure. Sutures and bandages? Maybe. Painkillers? Definitely not.
Cas will fix that ASAP, I thought with grim satisfaction. He’ll put together a whole med kit just for her.
The girl’s breathing hitched. My spine straightened before I realized I’d moved, fingertips hovering an inch above her collar bone.
She had that storybook princess thing going on.
If Sleeping Beauty had taken a detour through a woodchipper.
Golden corkscrew curls were damp with sweat and blood.
Dirt smudged her cute little nose. Her bottom lip had a healing split.
A bruise darkened her temple. One ankle was pink and swollen. A red welt sliced along her jaw.
And that’s just what I could see.
I reached for her hand, careful not to wake her despite the anger coursing through me. The only thing I wanted more than to make her assailant pay was to see her eyes open again.
“You’re safe,” I whispered. My voice came out wrong, soft edges where there should’ve been gravel. “I’m here now, beloved. I’ll protect you forever.”
It was a promise I didn’t take lightly. I wasn’t the kind of man who made promises. But for her, I’d carve the words into stone with my fingernails.
Gently, I pressed my lips against her knuckles, feeling the warmth of her skin against my mouth. It was tender and soft, and a shiver of something new went through me, something raw and protective. My free hand drifted to the back of my neck, expecting tension. Found slack muscle instead.
Huh.
I noticed something else peculiar, too: My fists weren’t clenched. Even the low growl that seemed to live in my throat these days was quiet, replaced by something softer, something I didn’t have a name for yet. She did that to me. Calmed the storm without even trying.
And I’d only met her ten minutes ago.
So fast, I thought. It’s happening so fast. But it’s real. I know it is. I feel it in my bones. I feel it in my soul.
“Please, wake up soon,” I murmured. “We need to know your name, sweet girl.”
Even without it, every cell in my body already screamed ours.
The silence was broken by the sound of the door swinging open. Zane strode in, a tray balanced in one hand, two bowls stacked haphazardly.
“I made puppy gruel!” He grinned like he’d just discovered the end of the rainbow.
“Puppy gruel?”
“The pup’s important to her,” he said with a shrug as he organized his bowls, “so he’s important to us. That’s how this works, right?”
“Yeah. That’s how it works.” I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. I sobered quickly, though, when my eyes caught flashes of red. “She’s bleeding through her shirt and jeans in places.”
“I’ll help you play doctor as soon as Cas gets back with the med kit.” A ceramic bowl clinked. “Come on, fluffster. Soup’s on.”
The pup’s whimper snapped my head around. Zane crouched next to the bed and dribbled broth into the pup’s mouth.
“You’re feeding him like he’s a newborn,” I muttered. “He has teeth. He can chew.”
“He’s weak, and I’m doing my best to keep our beloved’s baby alive.” Zane’s smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “Unless you want to explain to her why the fuzz ball kicked it?”
The pup licked broth off his thumb, and my shoulders dropped an inch. Seeing Zane with his guard down didn’t happen often. He kept himself hidden beneath jokes, teasing, and sarcasm.
“What’s in those bottles?” I grunted.
“That electrolyte drink. Found it in the pantry.” He glanced at the girl, brown eyes sharp with worry.
“Figured that would be good for her. Kitchen’s locked and loaded, by the way.
Got everything from borscht to beef Wellington.
Pretty sure there’s gold leaf in the spice rack.
When Goldilocks wakes up? She’s getting five-star room service. ”
Her shoe chose that moment to flop off her foot. The sole peeled away like old bark, and Zane snorted.
“Damn, Cinderella! You’re rocking the post-apocalyptic chic look!”
Picking it up, I studied it. Bloody. Muddy. Shot all to hell.
Had she walked to get here? The thought made my chest tighten, even though I knew it was unlikely. She couldn’t have walked half the driveway on that ankle, let alone with all her other injuries.
No, someone brought her to our doorstep, beat her unconscious, and left her there.
As I dropped the shoe to the floor, something hot and sharp flooded my veins. Something familiar. Something welcome.
“Easy, killer.” Zane kept feeding the pup chicken broth. “Save the murder boner for whoever did this.”
I glanced at him, catching a glimpse of his grim expression before it morphed into his usual smirk.
So he did understand what starvation and infection meant.
The girl chose that moment to move, golden curls catching the lamplight. My throat tightened as I waited for something. Anything.
Then the pup whined. So quiet I almost missed it. It was the same sound my heart made when her lashes fluttered. A pained whimper, and my breath hitched.
Zane froze.
“She waking up?”
“Breathing changed forty seconds ago.” I leaned closer. “Play nice.”
“Me? Always.”
He set the broth bowl back on the tray, and together we watched and waited. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us moved. We just waited.
Then the door exploded inward. Casimir’s combat boots sent the pup’s water bowl skittering across the floor. He wheeled in our med kit, a footlocker-sized suitcase filled with enough supplies to make a triage nurse swoon.
“Move, Z,” he gritted out. “Now.”
“Drama queen entrance at twelve o’clock.” Zane scooped the pup to his chest and stepped aside.
“Easy.” I blocked Cas’ lunge toward the bed. “She’s coming around.”
“She could have broken bones, internal damage. Her ankle alone—”
“Will wait ninety moon-damned seconds.” My palm met his sternum. “You’ll scare her.”
Cas’ nostrils flared. Behind him, the wall clock ticked three times before he stepped back, fingers twitching toward the girl’s swollen ankle.
Turning, he hefted the med kit up onto the dresser with a thud that echoed in the silence, and I could see his green eyes scanning her injuries, calculating the best course of action.
“Fine.” His voice cracked. “Ninety seconds. I’m counting.”
The pup yipped, and we both turned.
Zane stood with the wolf under his arm like a football, the pup’s legs dangling halfway to the floor, as he stared at our beloved, his gaze willing her to wake up and say something.
Unfortunately, she only cracked her eyes open for a second, their gray depths blurry with pain, before letting out a little sigh and falling back to sleep.
“There. Satisfied? Now strip her,” Cas barked.
“The hell we will,” I growled back, standing between him and her.
“Full assessment requires full access.” He swiveled to the dresser, then spun back with enough gauze to mummify a rhino.
“She’s not one of your fang-rotted anatomy diagrams,” I snarled. “You want to play field medic? Earn her trust first.”
“Infection doesn’t wait for permission slips.” Cas snapped a pair of shears in my face. “Jeans first. We need to check her—”
“Over my dead body.”
“Koala Bear,” Z broke in, “the girl’s sporting more bloodstains than a Tarantino flick. You wanna play peek-a-boo with her spleen?”
He was being dramatic as usual. The only blood was on her left sleeve and on her jeans by her knee.
Every instinct said protect, but logic whispered heal. Compromise tasted like ash.
“Bra and panties stay,” I rumbled at last. “Bikinis show more, so it’s not completely invading her privacy.”
“Oh, for the love of the eternal night!” Zane stage-whispered to the pup. “They’re debating modesty while Death’s doing the cha-cha on her pulse. Real classy, guys.”
“Three seconds to decide, Ko. You strip her, or I do.”
Her breathing hitched in a tiny, wounded sound that unraveled my resolve. I caught Casimir’s wrist mid-reach.
“Together. Slow. Gentle. No sudden moves.”
“And scene!” Zane made jazz hands. “Next on Brotherly Love Triangle: Code Blue in the ER!”
“You.” Cas pointed his middle finger at Zane. “Babysit that animal like a good boy.”
“Joke’s on you. Furball cuddles are my kink.” Zane squished the pup against his chest. “C’mon, tail-wagger. Let’s watch the perverts work.”
“She’s not exactly in a position to consent,” I murmured. “I don’t like it, but Cas is right. We have to know what we’re dealing with.”
“Sure, okay, Ko.” Zane snorted, his usual smirk creeping back. “You just want justification to see her naked—”
“Zane!” Casimir growled, his expression morphing from annoyed to angry. “If you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll duct tape you to the ceiling!”
“Oh, yeah, like that’s a punishment.”
Ignoring their bickering, I reached for her other worn-out shoe. Like its partner, the sole was nearly gone, the fabric frayed.
Seeing it, Cas went nuclear.
“What is that?” Dropping the shears, he snatched the shoe. “Damnation! This isn’t footwear! This is a podiatric abomination with aglets! Look at her blisters! They’re bleeding! Do you comprehend the sepsis risk from this mold-laden—”
“Cruor, Cas. They’re just shoes,” I muttered.
“Just shoes?” he roared, brandishing the canvas sneaker like evidence in a trial. “Proper footwear is fundamental to operational readiness! Arch support impacts mobility! Traction affects escape velocity!”
Cas wasn’t ranting about tread patterns and mold. No, this was his heart screaming in rage because our girl had been hurting long before crashing into our lives.