Page 61 of Huntress

She’d forgotten all about the female rat until it exploded from the ground behind her with a shriek of rage. She rose into the air, snarling with hatred. Her giant sword was aimed directly at Elsie’s heart as she came back down.

Elsie watched it come, a peripheral awareness screaming in the back of her mind that she needed to move. If she didn’t do something, she was going to die. She watched it come sailing toward her chest, her limbs too heavy to move.

A huge shadow lunged in front of her, knocking her back. Her shoulder hit the ground, and the whole world turned dark for several seconds.

There was a muffled thud, a grunt, and then a slap as the female rat’s head hit the ground and rolled several feet. Elsie stared at it in a stupor for a long while before her brain accepted what she was looking at.

She finally looked up to see her demon standing between her and the rat. With his back toward her, he let out a hiss of pain. His body curled over the sword that had completely run him through. “Fuck,” he muttered.

“Mutt? Why?”

He grabbed the hilt of the sword and pulled it out in one torturous move, groaning in agony. Panting hard, he pressed a hand over the hole in his chest. The sword fell from his hand, and he spat on the rat’s body. Slowly, he turned to face Elsie, lowering himself to her level.

“You look like shit.”

“Why did you do that?” she asked, unable to put any force into her voice. Her vision came into sharp focus, and she saw the pain etched on his face. “I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around.”

Before she knew what she was doing, Elsie pressed her hand over his as she checked him over. He was just as tattered as she was. There was a deep gouge in his cheek, a hole through his middle, and he was keeping weight off his left leg.

He leaned back, trying to pull away from her, but she scooted forward, keeping the pressure on his wound. Mutt watched her struggle and sighed, deciding to sit still and allow her to do as she pleased rather than watch her bleed to death from exertion.

“You’re not thinking clearly, worry about yourself. I’d never forgive you if someone else took your life.” He ruined her surreal sense of gratitude. “You’re too weak. Those rats should have been nothing to you.”

“Did you just call me weak? Have you seen how many of them I killed?” She gestured to the bodies piled around them.

“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you that the body count doesn’t matter if you’re dead?”

“I don’t know how to use my magic,” she reminded him, though she’d managed a couple of feats through pure desperation. Some of the haughty harshness left his eyes, leaving only the pain.

“You should work on that.” He groaned and moved to get to his feet, but when she tried to follow, he stilled. “Stop that. If you keep moving around, you’ll bleed to death. Where’s that healer of yours?”

“Let me take a look at your wound,” Elsie said seriously. He was acting like a prey animal, downplaying and hiding his injuries. With that damned collar blocking his magic, her body would heal itself long before his.

“Are you stupid or something? Part of your shoulder is missing. It’s gross. Do you have any idea how disgusting their mouths are?” he scoffed, but his pupils were dilated, his nostrils flared, and his breathing came in shallow gasps. There was no hiding that he was obviously in a great deal of pain.

“You had that huge sword sticking out of you. What if you get tetanus? I can’t do much internally, but at least let me close up the hole.” He brushed her hand away with a scowl. “Hey, I’m serious!”

“As am I. You’re far more likely to get an infection than I am. Leave it alone, Mistress.” He looked around the battlefield, seeing nothing but the strewn-about bodies of dead rats. She hadn’t exaggerated. Her corpse pile was impressive.

Elsie reached for him again, and he almost shoved her away, but she was so pale he didn’t rebuke her. Her breath came in little puffs, but her eyes were resolved. He sighed and sat still, glaring down at her, his curls lifting in the wind.

“I’m fine. Go lie down before you fall down.”

“You’re not fine. Lift your shirt and let me see.”

“Leave me alone, woman.”

Elsie made a disgusted noise and leaned forward, grabbing at his shirt. He tried to wriggle free, but she got to her knees and scooted forward. Her pain rolled through him so forcefully he fell back and landed hard on his ass. Elsie wouldn’t let up. She crawled on top of him, then eased herself onto his hips, pinning him down. He snarled but didn’t fight back. He was careful, gentle even.

“We don’t have time for this,” he seethed.

“Sit still and let me help you!” She frowned when she realized what she’d done. What he’d allowed her to do.

“I said no!” he growled, then lowered his voice to a sultry tone. “Why are you having so much trouble keeping your hands off me?” He grinned up at her and Elsie fought the urge to smack him.

“Don’t be a creep. I’m trying to help you,” she scolded, grabbing the hem of his shirt. The teasing fell away as his mood quickly soured.

“Just give it up, I’m telling you I’m fine!” he whisper-yelled at her. His eyes narrowed on the blood oozing from her stomach and onto his.