The Curse (Belador #3)(78)

When she faced him and nodded, he drew out the blade in one quick move. She arched at the agony of nerves being ripped again. Blood gushed over her arm. Stars swarmed in front of her eyes.

Storm snatched up a pillow and covered the gash, pressing down on it.

She felt herself falling, knew she was starting to black out.

His voice boomed at her. “Wake up, Evalle! Close the damn wound.”

She opened her eyes to the battle face of a warrior.

Storm was trying to save her life and she wasn’t helping. Clenching her jaw, she reached inside again, forcing her beast to the surface. Energy rushed up from her center and spread through all of her limbs, threatening to bring on the change.

She stopped the force just like Tristan had taught her when they were in the jungle weeks ago.

Time crawled by with each beat of her heart until Storm lifted the pillow and inspected her shoulder. He smiled at her. “The wound isn’t completely healed, but it’s closed up. The bone and muscle are redeveloping. You did it.”

He sat back, looking weary as if he’d fought a hundred trolls, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Storm?” Her voice sounded thin and distant.

He leaned forward quickly, his hand going to her cheek, eyes dark with concern. “Are you hurt somewhere else?”

She licked her lips. “No. I’m … sorry.” There, she’d said it in case she didn’t get another chance.

He dropped his forehead down to hers. “I am, too, sweetheart.” Then he stood up.

That’s when she realized he was naked, but she only got to look for a second before he lifted her into his arms again and carried her to another room, somewhere dark. He put her on a huge bed and said, “Stay here a minute while I secure the house.”

She didn’t care if she moved for the next week. Her muscles were limp, her throat ached, her lungs burned and her shoulder felt as though someone had driven a hot poker through it. Her body was not done healing.

Storm disappeared for several minutes, then returned to the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He’d put that on for her. She’d seen him naked once before, and the man had no problem walking around without clothes.

She closed her eyes.

He came back to check on her again with water this time. Easing her up to a sitting position, he put the straw to her lips. “Sip this.”

She got a few sips down and paid for it when she started coughing. When he laid her back down, he kissed her forehead and said, “I’ll be back in a minute. You’re safe in here.”

Those words barely registered as her eyes drifted shut.

—

Evalle came awake with a start, pushing up to a sitting position on a bed. In a dark room.

Storm’s bed. Now she remembered.

She stood up and checked her balance. Everything worked, a little achy but stable.

A door across the room opened with glaring light before the click of a switch doused it. Storm came into view wearing jeans and T-shirt this time. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been dragged back from the jaws of death.”

“That pretty much covers what happened. You danced too close to the edge that time.”

“How long was I out?”

“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”

The last time she’d healed, in the jungle when Tristan had taught her how, it had taken much longer to reach this point of recovery. What had happened when Storm chanted? Had his majik done something to help her tap her Alterant powers?

She had pretty good recall of the battle and how she’d ended up in here, with the exception of a few blurry moments. The only thing she couldn’t determine was where they should pick up after arguing, then fighting trolls, then her apologizing.

But hadn’t he said he was sorry, too, or had she just imagined that?

The safest conversation would be for her to stick with the troll issue. “What about outside? There was at least one human when the fight broke out.”

“I handled it.”

“How?”

He stared at her, taking his time to answer. “With some of my Ashaninka gifts. A spell.”

As in something a witch could do? Might be why he seemed hesitant to go into detail. Storm didn’t like shifting into his jaguar, but he’d done it again. For her.

She didn’t want to push him for more. “Good thing you could do something. At least we don’t have to call Sen.” She looked around, but nothing in the dark room would help her find the right words yet, so she stuck with trolls. “What was that thing? A demon or a troll?”

“Both. How’s your arm?”

She rolled her sore shoulder. “Got a few aches but nothing I can’t manage. I’m good to go after those trolls.”

“Those trolls almost killed you.”

“We have a weapon for them now.”

“Where was it when you got attacked?”

“I took it to Trey. We only have one and he’s running teams all night across the city, covering as many cemeteries as he can. He needs the weapon in case something big breaks out.”

Storm made a disgusted sound. “You’re heading back out to fight these things, knowing they can overpower you?”

“If there hadn’t been two—”