Chapter 9 On Our Watch #2
We had all just entered a new world and would need time to navigate it, but Cas? Cas was going to attack love like it was a battlefield. I could already imagine the exhaustive supply lists, the endless observational reports, the micromanaging of her favorite lip glosses, the intense hovering…
He’d have a full tactical manual, some shit like “Maintenance Guidelines for the Care of One (1) Beloved,” compiled by the end of the month.
I almost felt bad for her.
As he stormed off, I slipped off her threadbare socks and went to drop them with her shoes—shoe because Cas had marched off with the other one—but Zane slung out one arm, holding a small trash can. With a nod, I dumped her socks in it, then tossed her shoe in there, too.
“Think he’ll sanitize the whole house?” Z set the trash can down next to the bed.
“Count on it,” I grunted. “By dawn, every surface will smell like bleach.”
#
Before I got any further undressing her, Cas strode back into the room, surprisingly not brandishing cleaning supplies. Instead, his green eyes raked over the girl.
“All right,” he said evenly. “Let’s get to work.”
He wielded the shears like he was dismantling explosives, sliding them through the worn denim with extreme care. The left knee gaped open. Not some designer distress, but a tear from hard use and wear.
“These aren’t clothes.” His jaw muscle jumped. “They’re crime scenes.”
Ignoring him, I peeled her jeans away from milky thighs mapped with bruises. Fresh ones bloomed violet over older yellow smudges in a brutal timeline etched on her pale skin. Cas’ fingers brushed her swollen ankle, and she whimpered.
He froze.
“Did I hurt—”
“She’s dreaming.” I hope.
The pup whined again, wriggling so hard that he nearly slipped from Zane’s grip.
His blue eyes were fixed on the girl, oversized paws scrabbling in the air like he could reach her if he just tried hard enough.
Zane adjusted his hold, murmuring softly to him and bouncing him slightly, but the pup wasn’t having it.
He let out another whine, louder this time, and clawed at Zane’s chest.
“Okay, okay! Chill, wolfie! You’re gonna hurt someone! Namely me!”
“Just calm down, everyone.” Moving closer to Zane, I held the wolf’s face in my palms and waited until his eyes met mine. “You need to be quiet and calm while we help her. Can you do that?”
He didn’t blink, just stared at me. Then, amazingly, he sneezed at me.
“Bat’s bones! Don’t tell me he understood you?” Zane sneered.
“Of course he did.” I scratched behind the pup’s ears before stepping back.
“Ko. Shirt,” Cas called through gritted teeth.
“Shirt,” I agreed as my stomach clenched.
Oh, the shirt.
I hesitated. She was so vulnerable, and the idea of doing this felt wrong. But we had to. We had to see to help her. Cas’ eyes met mine, and I saw the same reluctance there. We both took a breath, then another, before we carefully lifted her to slide the shirt up.
More bruises, including a deep one in the center of her breastbone, as if she’d taken an elbow to the chest.
“Noctem maledicta.” Zane whistled low under his breath. “Am I gonna have fun with whoever did this!”
The faded pink cotton clung stubbornly to one arm, fused to something. Dried blood and the infection we smelled. When our fingers met to gently pull away the fabric, I felt Cas’ hands shaking. Not from fear, but from fury distilled to tremors.
The wound unveiled itself like a rotten secret.
“Cruor,” I breathed as we looked at four inches of angry crimson flesh, curling around the edges and filled with yellow pus. “Did that pup do this?”
“No.” Zane sounded surer than he ever had about anything in his life. “I smell were, not dire, under the blood and infection. And this guy has done nothing but try to protect her since we found him.”
Leaning a bit closer, I took a whiff and had to agree that he was right about the smell. Before I could get Cas’ opinion, he came out of his stupor and went full battlefield medic mode.
“Ko, glove up. Debridement tools. Sterile saline. Antibiotics. Suture kit.”
“Or—” Zane struggled with the yowling pup, “we let her nibble a vein. Quick heal with a bonding experience on the side.”
“She’s not vamp or dhamp, you troglodyte!” Cas snapped on a pair of nitrile gloves with lightning speed.
“It’d kill her, Z.” I hurried to put on my own gloves. “She wouldn’t be able to metabolize—”
“Since when are you Dr. House?”
The pup chose that moment to launch, a desperate fur torpedo heading straight for the bed. Zane caught him mid-air, earning claw trails down his forearms that closed up before blood could even well in the scratches.
“Everybody shut up!” I whisper-shouted. “You’re scaring him. It’s not helping.”
“Easy, fuzzy landmine. Your girl’s tougher than she looks.” Zane’s thumb stroked behind the wolf’s twitching ears. “She survived whatever shitshow left this mess. A few germs won’t—”
“Staphylococcus aureus,” Casimir corrected, swabbing antibac around the wound. “Could lead to septicemia if—”
“English, WebMD!” Zane bleated.
“If it gets into her bloodstream, she’ll die.”
The room temperature dropped. Zane’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He nuzzled the pup’s head.
“Hear that, buddy? We’re gonna get your mommy some ninja-level antibiotics. The kind that makes pee glow. She’s gonna be fine.”
Working in tandem, Casimir and I did what we had to do. Saline irrigation. Eighteen sutures. Sterile dressings secured with military precision. After her arm, each fresh wound we discovered fed the storm behind my sternum, and Cas cataloged them aloud until I couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Stop, Cas.”
“Someone did this purposefully.” His voice went arctic. “Systematically.”
“We all know it didn’t happen today,” Zane muttered.
“She’s breathing. She’s safe. That’s tonight’s win,” I reminded them as I taped the final bandage.
“We’ll need to check that one frequently.” Casimir’s gaze lingered on the weeping arm wound.
“Tomorrow,” I agreed. “Same with her ankle when she can give feedback. Cruor, am I glad she was unconscious for this!”
“Can tomorrow also include pants for her?” Zane stood slumped against the wall, the pup now snoozing on his boots. “Or at least a blanket from the neck down? Asking for my blue balls.”
Cas’ suture scissors hit the tray with a ping sharp enough to match his glare.
“Don’t,” he hissed, stripping off his gloves.
Zane’s smirk didn’t reach his eyes; those were darting between the girl’s bandaged arm and the slow rise of her chest. He had a huge heart beneath all that bravado, and even though he tried to play it cool, everything about this situation was killing him as much as us. I could see it clear as day.
Usually, Cas would, too, but not right now.
Right now, Cas was hanging onto his sanity by a thread.
“Aw, c’mon, Captain Catastrophe. Once she wakes up, you can’t tell me you won’t be first in line to volunteer as tribute for physical therapy.” Zane wiggled his eyebrows.
“Cas.” I stripped off my gloves and tossed them into the overflowing trash can. “He’s baiting you. For a reason.”
“You’re no better than me, Koa. Admit it. You’re already mentally redecorating our room to fit her aesthetic. Flower crowns and scented candles instead of,” Zane waved at the arsenal of scalpels and hemostats, “whatever war crimes these are.”
Cas’ knuckle dug between his eyes. “If you don’t shut your—”
“Honestly,” Zane plowed on, faux-contemplative, “gotta say, seeing her sprawled like this? Makes me wish I was that pillow.” He gestured to where her head lolled against the cushions, curls spilling like molten gold. “Or the sheet.” A beat. “Hell, I’d be that bruise between her—”
The med shears clocked him square in the chest, and he reflexively caught them before they hit the floor.
“Bleeding night, bro!” He rubbed his sternum, the pup blinking awake with a yip. “That’s your solution? Assaulting my pectorals?”
“Your mouth is the assault,” Casimir snapped. “We’re trying to heal her, asshole, not listen to your sexual fantasies!”
Zane’s grin turned feral as his hands turned into fists.
“Jealous I called dibs on the good parts? Don’t worry. There’s plenty of our beloved to go around.” His gaze dropped deliberately to the front of his jeans. “But if I don’t rub one off soon…”
Casimir lunged.
I caught his elbow, the heat of his fury vibrating through my grip.
“Let it go,” I advised quietly.
“He’s vulgar.”
“And you’re missing what’s happening.” I kept my voice down, nodding toward Zane’s twitching shoulders, the white-knuckled grip on the shears, the sheer rage in his eyes that was heading to murder-death-kill level at breakneck speed. “Let him run his mouth. It’s how he vents. You know that.”
“Fine.” Cas exhaled through his nose. “But if he mentions anything else about her body or his—”
“Deal.” I turned back to the girl, brushing a curl from her temple. Her skin was furnace-hot under my fingertips, her breathing still ragged.
Zane flopped into an armchair, legs slung over the armrest.
“Relax, grumpy grandpa. Once we’ve nursed Sleeping Beauty back to full vigor, I’ll be too busy impressing her with my other talents to annoy you.” He pantomimed playing the piano. “Picture it: candlelight, my superior vocals, my shirt mysteriously missing—”
Casimir hurled a roll of medical tape this time. It thwacked Zane’s forehead.
“Dark take it! What happened to ‘let it go’?”
“That was before you crossed the line from obnoxious to reprehensible.”
“Enough.” I didn’t raise my voice. Didn’t need to.
Silence fell, sticky and thick. Sitting up, Zane picked at the tape’s edge. Casimir repacked the med kit with unnecessary force. I slipped off my plain white t-shirt and slid it onto our beloved, tugging the hem past her hips to mid-thigh.
Then—
A sniff.
I glanced up. Zane’s head was bowed, his red hair messier than ever. His shoulders jerked once, twice, before he swiped his knuckles under his eyes.
Cas and I froze.
The wolf pup whimpered, nosing Zane’s boot.
“Hey.” Cas approached him like a soldier disarming a bomb. “Z?”
“Fuck off.”
“You’re shaking.”
“Am not.”
“We’ll fix this.” Cas’ palm gripped Zane’s shoulder. “All of it.”
“Yeah? How?” His voice cracked on a sob. “Our beloved is hurt! Someone attacked her! She was all alone! She could’ve— She could’ve—”
“She didn’t,” I murmured soothingly, “and she’s not alone anymore. We’re here now, and no one will hurt her on our watch.”
“And the wolf—” Gulping, Zane gestured to the pup, who was frantically licking his arm, as if to comfort him. “Who hurts a puppy?”
“Someone who’s going to die,” I pointed out.
“Agreed.” Cas rubbed Z’s back. “First, we stabilize. Then we strategize.”
“Strategize? I’ll strategize their entrails into—”
“Later.” I stretched, back popping.
“Let’s give her a couple of hours, then we’ll bring her something to eat.” Cas was already five moves ahead. “I’m going to interrogate those gargoyles at the front gates. I want to know what they saw, what orders they were given, by whom—”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t turn them to crumbles. They’re the only guards around here,” I grumbled. “While you do that, I’ll grab a shirt, then sweep the house perimeter.”
“Good. Zane, unpack our gear, yeah? We want to be ready if whoever did this shows up again.”
“If they do, I’ll turn their liver into a coin purse.” Zane picked up the pup and set him on the bed, earning a frown from Cas.
I raised one hand and shook my head, warning Cas not to say anything. He sighed, but stayed silent.
“All right, wolf. You’re on watch. At least pretend you’re menacing if anyone other than us comes in here.” Zane saluted the pup. “Understood, soldier?”
Ignoring him, the wolf went straight to the girl, whining softly. She stirred, not waking, but turning toward the warmth. Maybe out of instinct. Maybe out of love. Her bad arm curled around him, her fingers sinking into his fur.
I froze. Zane’s mouth snapped shut. Cas stopped mid-mutter. Even the air seemed to still.
The wolf sighed, a contented puff of puppy breath, and nestled under her chin. Her lips parted, a whisper against the top of his head.
None of us spoke.
None of us breathed.
In the hush, I memorized the lines of them: The girl’s golden hair fanned across the pillows, the pup’s paw draped protectively over her, the way her body cradled him.
“I think he’s got this,” I said with a tiny smile.
“So. Uh.” Zane cleared his throat and jabbed a thumb at the door. “I’m gonna. Luggage. Gear.”
“I’ll talk to the gargoyles.” Casimir nodded stiffly. “Ko?”
“Perimeter check,” I acknowledged.
I waited until the door clicked shut behind them before blowing out a heavy breath. That had been more brutal than just about anything I’d ever endured.
And I’d endured a lot of brutal in my twenty-two years.
The pup blinked up at me, blue eyes drowsy.
“Sorry for thinking it was you,” I murmured. “Keep her safe for us, yeah?”
He sneezed in agreement.
#
Zane
“Father swore there’d be staff and security here,” Cas muttered as he thumbed his phone screen hard enough to crack it. Good thing we always carried plenty of spare burners. “This place is open wider than your mouth in a bullshitting contest.”
“Wide, indeed, then,” I snorted. “Relax. We got this.”
The look he gave me had me spinning on my heel before the lecture started, popping the SUV’s trunk up with a flick of my wrist. Boxes stacked taller than a certain vampire king’s ego met my eyes. Weapons cases, ammo cases, knife cases, boxes of boots and armor, maybe four duffles total of clothes.
“You want me to empty this before you take it down to the gates?” I asked as I surveyed our life’s possessions.
“I’ll run,” he grunted and took off.
Best thing for him, I thought as I looked over at the smattering of bags and suitcases in the driveway.
Her luggage.
Deciding to start there, I loaded up with as much as I could carry, thumping up the stairs and sneaking into her room. The pup raised his head, saw it was me, and flopped back down in silence.
I set her stuff down, my gaze lingering on her peaceful form.
Even in sleep, her delicate features hinted at a beauty both fragile and resilient.
Like a porcelain doll that might punch you in the face.
I was eager to find out if her right hook was worth a damn.
But for now, I’d let her sleep like Cas said we would.
She’d already had one hell of a day, and I wasn’t a complete bastard.
“She’s safe,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.
I reached down, scratched behind the pup’s ears, and earned a contented nudge against my hand.
“Good boy. Keep watch, yeah?” I shook my finger at him. “If you hear so much as a floorboard creak nearby, I expect full growling and intimidation tactics.”
He yawned, showing off teeth that’d make a velociraptor jealous, and I left, easing the door shut behind me.