“Done,” Jean said. “Delaney goes with Ryder, Myra keeps Stevie comfortable, and Bathin and I deal with the bodies.”
I closed my eyes for a second, reminding myself I didn’t always have to shoulder the burden of looking after this town alone.
“All right,” I said. “That’s…that makes sense. I’ll go with him. My phone will be on. Let me know what you find. What you do. Anything you need.”
“Tea would be nice,” Stevie repeated.
“On it,” Myra said. “Do you need help getting him to the truck, Jame?”
“Delaney and I got this. Chief?” He motioned me to help him get Ryder to his feet.
“I can stand,” Ryder said, but it came out a little soft. He cleared his throat. “I can stand. My arm’s hurt, not my legs.”
“Gonna insist we do this slow,” Jame said, at the same time I said, “We’re helping. Don’t argue. Ready?”
Jame and I didn’t do more than stabilize him as he stood, but I stayed under his good arm, my other arm wrapped around his back.
“You got him?” Jame asked.
“Yes.”
Ryder held his injured arm tucked against his chest. It was wrapped in thick bandages Jame had applied with skill and speed.
“Let’s get you down to the ER,” Jame said.
“Keep me informed,” I ordered.
“We will,” Myra promised. “Okay, I’ll brew that tea. Bathin, maybe if you step over here, it won’t make you sneeze so badly…”
Jame walked ahead of us through the house and opened the front door for us.
“I’m fine,” Ryder said. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”
“You were attacked by a demon. We’ll let the doctor decide when you’re okay.”
“I don’t think…”
“Doctor decides,” I repeated, keeping my eyes on the porch stairs, then sidewalk.
He tipped his head so his mouth was nearer my ear. “I like it when you get bossy,” he murmured.
“That’s good, because I’m your boss.” I shifted so he could step up into the back seat. Then shut the door to hurry around to the other side of the truck so I could sit beside him.
Chapter Twelve
“Day off,”I repeated as I handed Ryder a cup of coffee. “Doctor Myrrhis said demon scratches infect easily.”
Doctor Myrrhis was a caladrius, which was a mythical white bird of healing. Here in town, she took on a human shape and was a licensed medical doctor. She was our go-to person at the hospital for magical or supernatural injuries.
He took the cup and set it down next to the glass of water, glass of orange juice, saltine crackers, grapes, and yogurt that I’d brought, one after the other, out into the living room to where he sat on the couch.
“Again, I’m not sick. This is a scratch.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Fine, demon cut. Which is on myarm. I can do more than sit on the couch and binge shows.”
“Sure.” I moved to the guest bathroom and dug in the drawer for the thermometer. “Or you could take a day off, which you haven’t had in months, and sit on the couch and binge shows.”
