“Just my back when it threw me to the ground.” Her gaze drops to my shoulder. “It… it hurt you too.”
“I’ll be fine,” I reply, even though the wound burns like a bitch—it wasn’t after me, so it likely didn’t inject much venom.“You’ll heal fast, but you need to endure the burning for a few days. You might get some nightmares or hallucinate.”
“Hallucinate?”
I nod. “The bite is used to drive humans mad down in Hell—it’s a venom. But it doesn’t last long. You just need to get past the intense part, and you’ll be fine.”
I don’t want to tell her the truth—this is dangerous for a demon or a hellhound. I don’t have the first clue what this kind of injury will do to a ghost.
Hopefully since she’s already dead, it’ll work its way through her and settle in a few days.
The last time I was bitten, I thought I was dying all over again. Five years my wound lasted, thanks to Hell and its fun approach to time. Sable is going to lose her mind over the next two days, no doubt about that. She’ll be on fire with a fever, sweat so much she’ll likely lose weight, and may hallucinate a few different monsters.
I soak a fresh cloth and hold it to her wound; she hisses and winces and tries to crunch up her body. Holding her in place, I try not to move as she starts to scream from the venom burning through her.
“God, it hurts, Lynx,” she cries. “P-please make it stop. Please!”
I could snap her neck again—she’s risen every single time she’s died. But knowing our shitty luck, with the Tor’Oth’s venom working its way through her system, she won’t wake up. And that’s not a chance I’m willing to take.
Her hand snaps up to grab my free one—I don’t pull away when she grips it for dear life. I squeeze back, closing my eyes as her sobs ring against my eardrums.
Sable screams so much, her voice cracks, her cheeks are soaked from tears, and she passes out.
I don’t move. I don’t let go of her hand. She’s still shaking, unconscious, and I wipe more strands from her face and wish I could take all the pain away from her—and where the fuck is Tony? He knows more about this nurse shit than I do.
I’m not a caring person. I haven’t been since I was human, but the thought of leaving her while she’s like this kills me inside. So I stay put—I slide the towel from her wound to check it over, cleaning the dead skin and pus and watch the flesh slowly start to knit back together.
The wound will close eventually, but the venom will still be there.
The clock ticks in the distance as my thumb rubs over the top of her hand. It twitches every so often, her brows keep furrowing, and she lets out soft little whimpers.
Eventually, when her eyes peel open, she doesn’t yank her hand free. “Why are you still here?” she asks so quietly, I nearly miss it.
“I’m staying here with you. You shouldn’t be alone.”
Sable’s plump bottom lip gets trapped between her teeth. “I’ll be fine. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’m staying,” I push. “Stop being a hard-ass for two seconds.”
“You’re an asshole,” she says, but it’s not with any anger as she shakily lifts the duvet beside her—a silent invitation.
I pull off my shirt, toss it onto the ground, and climb in beside her.
Instantly, I feel this is a bad decision. I should go sleep on her floor. Or run to my own bedroom and lock the damn door.
But my cockiness runs away, and for some fucking reason, nerves take over at her proximity. Hours ago, I was between her legs on this bed, and I was in my element, devouring her like I was a starved man.
Now, my pulse is hammering in a different way, and I don’t know what it means.
My eyes stay open, staring at the ceiling, my fucking soul so aware of her beside me. The bed isn’t exactly huge, and if I nudge to the right a little, I’ll feel her.
“Am I healing?” she asks.
“Yes, but the venom isn’t gone. Sleep. That’s the best thing for you right now.”
She rubs her hand down her face then drops it beside her, and I bristle at the feel of her fingers touching mine.
I don’t move my hand.
