CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The hotel room door had hardly closed behind Wolfe when a pounding knock sounded. That definitely wasn’t the wolf-man, not in the fine mood he had left in. I shoved off the messy bed and found a shirt to throw over my nakedness, before lifting my gun out from under the pillow. I walked to the door, calling, “Who is it?”
“It’s Poppy. Let me in. It’s important.”
I got the door cracked open an inch.
Poppy barged into the room in her full Corporate Army attire, her red ponytail whipping, and worry lining her features.
“You’re welcome to come in,” I muttered under my breath. I shoved the door closed, and asked, “What’s so important?”
Her nose wrinkled as she turned around to face me. “It smells like sex in here.”
“I know.” I grinned like the sated woman I was. “Wolfe isamazing.”
“Gross.” She shook her head, tossing away the thoughts. Her tiny form started pacing the small space, her attention fully on the floor she walked upon. “Something happened to me today.”
I leaned back against the wall and crossed my arms, my gun resting against my small bicep. “What was it?”
And why did she come here to me?
“I was doing office work, menial bullshit that we have to do every morning, and a fellow soldier handed me a pile of forms for review—the kind that doesn’t go online if you know what I mean. And as I was flipping through the sheets, one of them cut me.”
She didn’t go on. The small woman continued pacing.
I tried to help her along. “So you got a paper cut, then what happened?”
“The cut didn’t heal.” Poppy stopped directly in front of me. She shoved her middle finger right in front of my nose. “See it? It’s stillopen.”
My eyes crossed to view what she indicated.
I lowered my brows and uncrossed my arms. I used my free hand to grab her wrist and yank her hand back a little. My eyes widened as, sure enough, there was a long, thin cut on her finger, the edges of her skin not touching. It appeared red and irritated, too.
“What the fuck?” I mumbled. I cocked my head, attempting to get a better view. “Does it hurt? It looks like it hurts.”
“You know how paper cuts are. They may be little, but they be mighty. It stings like a sonofabitch.”
I released her wrist and looked into her brown eyes. “You’re thinking that spell Joshua gave you did something. That’s why you’re here?” I shook my head in the negative. “I don’t have his contact information.”
“He’s a seer. And he seems to be following you around lately. I thought if I stayed close to you, maybe he’d show up again—since I actually want to ask him a question in a civil manner. And that pesky fucker doesn’t go away until he wants to go away.”
“That might work.” My mind was already running. “Poke my finger. I want to make sure I heal up.”
“You’re for sure Wolfe’s mate?”
“I am.”
“All right then.” She lifted a tiny blade from one of the many knife sheaths she had on her, each one loaded with a different blade size. “Point a finger for me.”
Our foreheads were smashed together as we both watched her slice my thumb cleanly on the pad. I didn’t even flinch, her skills damn impressive. A thin line of blood formed and dripped down my thumb. No more blood came out. I wiped over the cut with my free hand, and it had healed, no gash for blood to slip out.
As one, we lifted our heads away from each other.
Confused brown eyes met mine, and she murmured, “It was definitely the spell.”
“Yeah.” I winced as I looked down at her paper cut. “How about we get a bandage for that while you wait to see if the devil shows up.”
Poppy nodded her head absently, her mind wandering off. “Theron was right. Cassander’s fine, but I’m not. Joshua only told us half the truth again.”
