“What is it?” he asked, instinctively going on alert. His dagger tingled, and his fingers flexed, ready to receive the weapon.
She shook her head. “Sometimes I see a shadow move. It’s probably an animal, maybe a deer. No one’s been over there in years. I wandered over once, just to see. It was creepy, with vines overtaking one of the houses and weeds growing up everywhere. And sad,” she added on a sigh. “We did that to them, obliterated their whole family.”
She rubbed her arms and headed to the house. Kade surveyed the area, uneasy with all the places someone could hide. She opened the door and stepped in, flicked on the light, and left the door open for him. He remained on the porch, uncertain if he wanted to follow her in.
She returned to the door opening. “What are you doing out there? Come in. I want to heal that gash. You’ll probably want another shower. I sure do.”
He stepped inside. “Oh, but I really liked your hose down,” he said, trying to work up a wry smile. Inside he felt heavy and cold, like his organs had turned into dried mud.
Her mouth quirked. “Apparently too much. We had better stick to a shower. Separate showers, just to be safe. There’s something about being outside, with a stream of water, that apparently has a strange effect on us.”
“You think that was it?” he challenged. He’d thought her reaction was out of grief, her need for comfort. But now, he wasn’t so sure.
“Of course.” A light shone in her eyes, one he hadn’t seen before. It tugged at his numb shell. “We fought together. And well… I thought Dragons were the only beautiful fighters, that Deuce magick was boring. Though it was pretty cool when you changed into a tiger that one time. Even if you were using it against us.”
Was she calling his magick beautiful? Another tug. “I have to admit, I’ve never considered a Dragon gorgeous before. But you are.” She had been beautiful, amethyst scales glistening in the orb’s light. It had reminded him of the vivid colors of underwater sea life when he went scuba diving.
She bent down to look at his stomach. “I’m going to try to heal you.”
“Let me get cleaned up first.” He’d stopped bleeding at least.
She held his gaze for a moment, and he felt another pull on his emotions. More like a jerk this time, the kind that knocks you off your feet. “I’ll get you a towel,” she said. “You can crash here if you want. I don’t have a guest bedroom, but you can sleep on the couch. It’s late.”
Too late. He felt lost in her eyes, her soft voice. Get out! Go. Say you’ve got to check in at work and sleep in your car. “All right.”
“I’ll get you some sheets and a pillow, too.”
She turned and walked away from him, his shirt barely covering her ass. Her long legs were scraped up, her feet dirty from walking barefoot through the woods. Beautiful, every inch of her. She opened a door in the hallway and pulled out a towel and washcloth. He felt his body move toward her, his hands reach out to accept them. For the second time within the last few hours, he was showering in her house.
He remained in the shower a while, letting the hot water pound his body. His thoughts twisted, crushing his chest even more than that damned Dragon had. He had to check in with Ferro soon.
He finally emerged, wearing jeans and nothing else. His first glimpse of Violet was a silk-clad behind as she bent over to tuck the sheets over the couch. He watched her for a moment as she set the pillow at the end after fluffing it up.
She turned suddenly. The blue tank top she wore, the same silky material as her shorts, tightened across her chest. “Lie down. You’re still hurt, Kade. I’m going to heal you. No arguing.”
He couldn’t tell her that the pain suited his mood, that he didn’t deserve her healing, so he submitted. That she was ordering him…flashes of being pinned to the barn wall, under her control, tightened his groin.
Forget that. You’re a mess.
She assessed his injuries. “Between my brothers and that Carnelian bitch, you’re beat to hell.”
He fingered the edges of his wound. Add the gash on his back and several broken ribs, and she’d have her work cut out for her.
She pushed the coffee table several feet away. “I’ll need to Catalyze.” She sat next to him, her hip brushing his thigh. He saw vulnerability in her rich brown eyes. In the way her long fingers trembled as they tucked her damp hair behind her ear.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded too quickly, dislodging that lock of hair again. “It’s just hitting me now. No one’s ever tried to kill me.” Little did she know. And she wouldn’t know, if he had any say in the matter. She continued. “Not me as Violet, for personal reasons. Our family has had attacks where everyone’s fair game. But she wanted to kill me.”
He shouldn’t reach for that hand, shouldn’t rub his thumb along the back of it. He was a cold killing machine. A man who didn’t know how to connect emotionally to a woman, which was all the better.
“I’m all right,” she said, staring at his thumb as though she’d never had anyone touch her like that.
Maybe she hadn’t. No one to hold her while she grieved or processed what had happened. He didn’t think, just pulled her down so that her cheek rested on his upper chest. Pain rocketed through him as she pressed against his broken ribs, but he held in the hiss.
He’d seen female Vegas deal with adrenaline after an altercation. They processed it differently. Rather than being immersed in it right away, like men did, women held it together in the moment and fell apart later. Most hid it, swallowing back the tears or letting them loose only in the restroom or in their car out in the parking lot. They would never reveal it to their comrades, who wouldn’t offer more than cold comfort anyway. The men showed no emotion. For most of the senior Vegas, any empathy had been conditioned out of them.
Violet’s shoulders shook, and he stroked her back, over the silk and the lace edge to the warmth of her skin. His fingers brushed against the strands of her damp hair.
