Page 50 of Lucifer's Mirror

I try to ignore the fact that she’s almost naked but fail miserably. My dick hardens, but I take a deep breath, willing it to subside. She doesn’t need to know how she affects me. I keep all expressions from my face to avoid making her uncomfortable.

“Lift your arm,” I say.

She does soandwithout flashing her breasts at me. Sad—I could use a little distraction right now. My anger is rising again as I take in the ragged wound. I soak a cloth in the water and gently dab her side. She looks straight ahead. “Are you okay? I can stop for a moment.”

“No. It doesn’t hurt so much now. Who would have thought brandy was so clever?” Then she swallows. “Is it bad?”

“It’s not as deep as it looks,” I reply. “You don’t need stitches.”

“Hallelujah,” she says. “Not that I was going to let you stick that needle in me.”

I raise a brow. “You don’t trust me?”

“Hell, no.” She turns and looks me in the eye. “Do you trust me?” she asks.

I don’t even have to think about it. I might crave her, I might have a deep burning need to keep her safe, but trust her? “Hell, no.”

I study the wound and frown. The skin around it is red and puffy. I don’t like the look of it. But I stay silent.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

I run a gentle finger down over the cut, and she winces. I’m not sure I should tell her the next bit, but she should know the truth. “Their claws sometimes contain a poison that can kill, even when the wound isn’t fatal.”

She swallows. “So I’m going to die?”

“No!” I growl. “I haven’t come this far to let you die.” I run a hand through my hair, trying to ease the pressure. “I just wish Sheela were here.”

I continue to clean the wound as gently as I can. All the same, gentle or not, I can see I’m hurting her. She bites down on her lower lip, and a bead of blood wells up. She licks it away.

Once it’s clean, I stroke a white, creamy salve along the length of it. “This should counteract any poison,” I tell her. “But it may get worse before it gets better.”

“You’re good at this,” she says.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” I hesitate. I’m not used to opening up about myself, but it may distract her. “I was in the army—it was a useful skill to have.”

“Really? I should have known from the way you fight. I’m guessing you’ve had a lot of practice at that as well. Which army?”

“My father’s,” I say. But I really don’t want to go into that. “Raise your arms,” I order. Her eyes narrow, but she attempts it while still holding her T-shirt vaguely in place. Except that’s not going to work. I hold up the bandage and see the comprehension in her eyes. She turns slightly away from me, then slowly raises her arms and her T-shirt. I try to keep my gaze averted from the fullness of her breasts as I wind the bandage tightly around her and fasten it off.

As soon as the wound is covered, she heaves a big sigh.

I step back. “You’re done for now, though we’ll have to keep an eye on it. Let me know if the pain gets worse.”

“I will.” She slips the T-shirt back over her head and takes another deep breath. I put my arm around her shoulders, and for a second, she leans into me. I know I should let her go. Nothing has changed. I still don’t know how this will play out. But I can’t help holding her close for just a minute. I breathe deeply. She smells of blood, but beneath that, I catch the salty tang of the air where the ocean meets the land.

Mine,Fury whispers through my mind.

I help her to her feet, and she takes a step, stops, sways, then steadies herself. I put her a little away from me, then steer her toward the fire where someone has put a blanket on the ground, next to a tree. I lower her to it, and she leans back with a sigh.

I cross the camp, find a glass and water, and hurry back.

She takes it but looks at me with a frown.

“The food will be ready soon,” I say. “Rest.”

“I need to go and check on Stella.”

“Don’t worry about Stella. She’s fine. I’ll see to her.”