Page 9 of A Token of Blood and Betrayal (Kennedy Rain #4)

He responded with a crooked smile, which made me roll my eyes.

In truth, I was glad he felt well enough to fight.

He’d almost been killed twice in the past ten days, first during a confrontation with Satine after we ditched her to speak to a rival Heir and then when we invaded Arcuro’s compound.

He needed a break from the violence just as much as I did.

Phedre popped up between us. “I knew you’d conquer him.”

Christian raised his bottle in a brief salute. Blood still trickled from the cut under his eye, but instead of taking care of it, he finished off the water.

“You’re bleeding,” I said again in case he hadn’t heard me the first time.

He ran the back of his hand over his face, then stared at the blood smeared across his skin. He pulled up his shirt to blot the wound, revealing his lower abs.

Without looking, I elbowed Phedre, knowing she was salivating over that glimpse of muscle.

“You’re looking too,” she muttered.

“I’m much more subtle about it.” I smoothed out my expression before Christian let his shirt fall. “That’s unsanitary. What good is a trauma kit if you’re not going to use it?”

“I don’t want to waste it,” he said. “I’ll shower when I get back to the Catalan.”

“Just—” I stopped, decided to ignore him, then dug through the kit until I found alcohol wipes, an antibiotic ointment, and a large Band-Aid. He gave me an unconvincing glower but didn’t protest when I opened the wipe then gently cleaned the cut.

“Sorry,” I said even though he hadn’t winced. “Why did you agree to fight?”

“Practice.” His gaze shifted to his right.

“Daily practice is a must,” Phedre said. “We’ll start when Thordis returns.”

It took a second to realize that the last part was directed at me. That’s right. I’d agreed to let the Valkyrie teach me how to defend myself better. I’d taken classes when I was younger, but I was definitely rusty. Besides, I’d never actually applied those skills in real life.

“This isn’t the right time,” I said.

“There isn’t a right time for someone to grab you from behind, ensnare your hair and use it to sling you against a brick wall.

Your pretty face would hit it, probably breaking your nose or your teeth, and then you would be spluttering blood, wondering what hit you when it hits you again.

And again. And maybe one more time before you pass out, and then who knows where you’ll wake up.

If you wake up, of course, which is a high probability since you’re”—she motioned toward me as if I were a sad thing—“you.”

“That was… specific,” Christian said.

“I’ve made it happen more than once.” Phedre grinned, then sauntered away, hopefully to make sure Thordis actually escorted the delivery guy off the property.

“You’re letting them train you?” Christian asked.

“They’re Valkyrie.” I discarded the alcohol wipe and opened the tube of ointment. “Fighting is kind of their thing.”

“If you want to come out to the gym, I could show you a few things.”

I met his gaze.

“Just some basics,” he said quickly. “So they don’t overwhelm you. Phedre and Thordis, I mean.”

His expression closed off, and he looked away while I applied the ointment to his face and pressed a bandage over it.

“Are you okay?” I asked. We hadn’t really talked since the compound. He’d been through a lot, and it was possible he resented me for involving him, especially since he hadn’t exactly endorsed my plan to rescue Deagan.

“Yeah. You?” He started to unwrap the tape around his knuckles, which I hadn’t noticed due to the mud camouflage.

“I’ve definitely been better, but generally speaking, I’m…” Stuck? Trapped? Doomed? “Tired.”

He nodded, probably only half listening. No one wanted to hear about my problems. Everyone had their own, especially Christian, who was still trying to help Melissa. She was safe at The Rain, but she’d be even safer when her master was dead.

“How’s Deagan?” The way he asked the question seemed pointed.

“You know he’s here.”

He shrugged. “Melissa called before my fight.”

“Oh.”

“A couple of other people mentioned it too.” I must have looked surprised because his brows rose. “People pay attention to you, Kennedy.”

I guess that made sense. I was the last Rain and the hotel’s owner, which basically stamped a big red IMportant over my name.

That label didn’t fit right though. I was better suited for being “just” another college student or young adult.

Plus word had spread extremely fast, as if the staff had a group chat live-tracking my life.

Since I didn’t know how to respond to Christian’s statement, I shrugged and then changed the subject. “You haven’t seen Garion, have you?”

He finished unwrapping his hands. “We crossed paths on the way out here. Any reason he’d be headed to the Catalan?”

I frowned. “I don’t think so. Besides, I was just there. I put Deagan in a room on the third floor. He’s unconscious. We’re hoping waking up human helps rebalance him, but we’re not sure what kind of condition he’ll be in. I was hoping you might watch him in case he’s not okay?”

He didn’t answer immediately—he wasn’t one to rush to decisions—so I gave him time to think.

“I can do that,” he finally said.

“Thank you. I’d give you a hug but…” I waved my hand at all of him.

A boyish grin stretched across his face. “You don’t like sweaty, mud-covered men?”

“I could do sweaty, or I could do mud-covered, but both together?” I made a face.

He laughed. “Understood. If you need to talk to Garion, he could have been headed to the cemetery.”

As soon as he finished the sentence, his smile faded.

For both of us, the cemetery was a reminder my parents were dead.

Shelli had created and thrown the wolfsbane spell that allowed stray werewolves to kill my parents.

Christian believed she wouldn’t have taken an interest in them if it weren’t for Crusco, who’d learned via Melissa about the possibility of creating new Nulls.

Personally, I thought it was just as likely Shelli had stumbled upon the spell during her search for Astrid.

If Shelli gained the ability to create Nulls, she would have had even more power and influence, something many witches craved and believed they deserved.

Shelli certainly thought she’d deserved it.

I’d told Christian multiple times my parents’ deaths weren’t his fault, would have told him yet again if he hadn’t closed down his emotions like he closed up his trauma kit, but he wouldn’t listen to me.

Would he listen to Garion? The thought caught me by surprise until I remembered what Garion had said. His magic was cursed.

I almost laughed. Garion thought their deaths were his fault.

I’d once thought they were mine, that maybe they wouldn’t have been killed if I hadn’t tried to help the unsanctioned.

That was the thing about tragedies though.

So many small, almost insignificant decisions altered the course of the future.

Chaos theory. It was a thing, and it was time for me to start nudging the future the direction I wanted it to go.