Page 8

She swallowed. “Just drop it next to the sink and I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.” He tossed it into the bathroom.

She hesitated and then reminded herself she was a nurse. Well, almost, anyway.

“I’ll help you back to the couch,” she said in her most professional voice and slid an arm around his back.

He shook his head. “You don’t look strong enough to hold up a kitten,” he said, but let her take some of his weight.

The man was all muscle. Beneath her hand, his waist was taut, the skin hot from his fever. She tried not to notice how good he smelled—warm, sweaty male.

Down, girl.

Sure, the man was sexy in a dark, dangerous way, but he was hurt, for God’s sake. And even if he wasn’t, he was a fada—and a Baltimore earth fada at that. Everyone knew they were a murderous clan. She was surprised any of them were still left alive.

The last thing she wanted was to have anything to do with a Baltimore shifter.

No, she’d make sure Mr. Jace No-Last-Name left as soon as he was able, then pray she never saw him again.

Back in the living room, Jace sank down on the couch. He closed his eyes and bent forward at the waist, his breath ragged. It was clear he was hurting.

Evie turned on the lamp next to the easy chair. “You’re hot. I’ll turn up the air conditioner.” With that done, she shoved her hands into her back pockets, feeling helpless. “Are you hungry? I can make you some chicken soup. Or—”

“I don’t think I can eat anything right now,” he said without opening his eyes.

“Yeah, right.” She flushed, recalling he’d taken a knife in the belly. “Maybe something that digests easily? I have popsicles.” Her mom had given them popsicles whenever she or Kyler were sick.

“A popsicle.” His hard mouth edged up. “Okay, sure.”

“Be right back.” She hurried to the kitchen and returned with an orange popsicle. It would put more liquids in him, and maybe the sugar would give him some extra energy.

While he ate the popsicle, she rinsed his T-shirt out in the bathroom sink and hung it up to dry before getting a popsicle for herself.

When she came back, he was reclined on the couch, still sucking the popsicle.

A cat’s paw was tattooed in black and gold on his upper left arm.

He saw her looking and his face shuttered, so she didn’t ask, just curled up on the easy chair again.

The cuts on his abdomen were still an angry red, but they were starting to close. “I think you’re healing,” she said.

He nodded. “It’s going to be a rough night, but this helps.” He indicated the popsicle. “Feels like my fucking belly’s on fire.”

“I wish I could do more.”

“You did good. I just need to rest now, give it time to heal.”

She wrapped her arms around her legs. “What happened, anyway?”

“Some bastard night fae stuck a knife in me.”

“The one that was outside?”

“No. The guy who stabbed me is dead.”

She gulped. “Oh.”

He regarded her from beneath thick lashes, as if expecting her to cringe from him. But she knew that sometimes, you don’t have a choice.

Jace’s eyes closed. Silence fell while they sucked on their popsicles.

“Iron,” she said. “It was an iron knife? That’s why you’re feverish?”

He nodded. “You know what iron does to a fae?”

“Sure.” Everyone knew that iron was a fae’s Achilles’ heel. They couldn’t even stand it against their bare skin. “It’s like poison for them. But you’re a fada, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. But we have some fae in us. Iron doesn’t affect the fada as bad, but it’s still poison to us. And the knife was probably cold-forged—formed into a blade at room temperature. That makes a difference.”

“Salt neutralizes the iron?”

“Yeah, but don’t ask me how. It just does.”

She opened her mouth to ask why the night fae had stabbed him, and then closed it again. It was better she didn’t know.

“That’s right,” he said, seemingly reading her mind. “The less you know, the better.” He slid down on the couch until he was prone again. “I’ll be all right, now. You can go to bed.”

She shook her head. “I’m staying right here in case you need me.”

His brow lifted—and then he smiled. A quick but real smile that lit an answering warmth inside her. “You don’t have to,” he said, “but thanks.” And with that, he curled up on his right side, closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

She finished her popsicle, and then set a pitcher of ice water on the coffee table within easy reach of her patient before curling up on the chair again.

She was too wide awake now to sleep, so she took out her phone and checked her messages, and then downloaded a book to read, but her gaze kept flicking to Jace.

He was a beautiful man: big shoulders, six-pack abs and long, strong legs.

And inked—besides the cat’s paw, an intricately rendered tat of a snarling black jungle cat stretched across his upper back.

Kyler came downstairs in a pair of gym shorts and she jerked her gaze back to her phone.

“You sure you’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

He yawned and scratched his stomach. “Okay, but holler if you need me. I’m all grown up—you need me, you call for me.”

He frowned down on her, and for a second, she was reminded of his father, even though Aaron had been shorter and square-faced, while Kyler had a narrow, sharp-boned face. But those dark eyes and the frown were all Aaron, who had been just the same when it came to protecting his family.

“I will.” She crossed her heart. “Promise.”

“G’night, then.” Kyler gave another huge yawn and went back upstairs to bed.

Evie shut off the light and snuggled up on the chair again.

Kyler had made her proud tonight. All spring, he’d argued with her about every little decision.

Some nights he slammed out of the house and didn’t come home until after midnight.

She didn’t know what she was going to do with him when school let out next week.

He’d tried to find a job, but so far, no luck.

But tonight, he’d really come through. His dad would’ve been pleased.

She smiled. She’d have to remember to tell Kyler that in the morning.

She glanced at her sleeping guest one last time. His face had gone slack, his lashes dark crescents against his cheeks. Curled up on the couch like that, it was hard to believe he was as dangerous as people said.

Her eyes drifted closed and she fell asleep.

Two hours later she jerked awake to find Jace thrashing in his sleep.

“No,” he muttered. “Mary—” He bolted upright.

She fumbled for the switch on the lamp next to the chair. It came on and he hissed, an angry cat-sound.

She blinked against the sudden light, trying to see him. “You all right, dude?”

He ignored her to chug water from the pitcher she’d left on the table, then fumbled with the zipper of his pants.

She rose to her feet. “Jace? What are you doing?”

His gaze swung to her and she took an involuntary step back. His eyes were that strange bright green again. His growl raised fine hairs all over her body.

“Okay.” She raised her palms. “Take it easy.”

He snarled and dragged off the pants. Bright bits of color danced over his skin—and then a huge black panther was crouched on her couch.