Mrs. Van was faster than Leena in following these instructions, jumping to sit beside Rami on the driver’s seat. She took the reins from Rami, who was struggling to control the two horses singlehandedly.
Leena barreled inside the carriage, her shoes slipping on the icy step. Mrs. Van set the horses flying before Leena had even shut the door.
It took a moment for Leena’s eyes to adjust from the blazing brightness outside to the dimness within. Eventually, she was able to focus her vision enough to see St. Silas sprawled across the seat, a pool of crimson spreading beneath him.
As Leena’s eyes frantically assessed him, St. Silas returned her searing appraisal with one of his own.
“Is that all yours?” she demanded, moving closer to inspect him in the flickering sunlight.
“Are you well?” he interrupted. His eyes were steel. “Did he hurt you?”
Leena’s eyes widened in shock.How had St.Silas known of what had so recently transpired between her and Kilworth?“I am unhurt.”
Her gaze raked him again, focusing on the blood. She reached to unbutton his waistcoat, but he stopped her, covering her hand with his own, holding it just over his heart. She could feel the drumming of his heartbeat against her palm. “Where’s Kilworth?”
Leena kept her tone brusque, although memories made her stomach knot and her throat constrict. “I shot him dead with your pistol.”
“There’s a girl,” he whispered softly—the words an echo of the first time he’d said them to her, what felt like centuries ago. “Fearless Leena Al-Sayer.”
Leena did not look at him, but her fingers shook as she continued to unbutton his waistcoat. The burden of Kilworth’s death lay like a stone on her heart, and yet St. Silas’s words were like an ax shattering that stone.
“Is this blood all yours?” she asked again.
“Afraid it is,” St. Silas said, almost apologetically, trying to catch her eye. “I’d be much obliged if you kissed it better.”
Leena paused in her attempts to remove the layers of his clothes and glanced up at him drily. “If you are well enough to jest, then surely there is no cause for concern.”
“Who said anything about jesting?” His eyes ricocheted between pain and laughter.
The carriage swerved through the uneven terrain, jolting Leena against St. Silas’s wound, causing him to inhale sharply.
The white shirt beneath had already adhered to the wound. Grimly, and without giving him a chance to realize what she was about to do, she ripped the fabric that clung to the gash in one fluid motion. The clenching of his knuckles was his only reaction to the pain.
Leena blanched at the sight of the wound, which scored between his ribs and his hip on the left side.
It was horrific.
The blood streaming from the severed skin seemed endless.
More gruesome still were the spidery black lines that emergedfrom the center of the wound, spreading outward. Leena had never seen such markings in her life.
St. Silas watched her face carefully, his eyes half-lidded. “Demon poison.”
Leena wrenched her gaze to meet his.“Demon poison?”she cried, fear racing down her spine. “What is the treatment? This does not look—” Her tone faltered, mind racing.
“Easily procurable in Golborne,” he replied without hesitation.
Golborne—that was five days’ carriage ride away. “Will we have enough time?” she asked frantically.
“You worry too much.”
Leena ignored his attempt at lightheartedness. “How did you get injured with demon poison?” She wasted no time in tearing thick pieces of fabric from the hem of her dress to create bandages. The wound needed pressure immediately to stem the bleeding.
Leena heard Rami curse just as the carriage jostled precariously on the ice, tipping them leftward before righting itself once more and continuing forward.
St. Silas could not immediately answer as she began to swiftly wrap the gauze around his abdominal muscles. His eyes tightened briefly with every pressure she exerted on the wound, but he said nothing to stop her.
“We have Hargreaves to thank for this,” St. Silas finally responded after he had caught his breath. Though it obviously caused him pain, he moved slowly to pull back the curtains and look out the window. “We are not moving fast enough.”
