War of Hearts(23)

“Right, big guy.” She opened the rear passenger door thinking it might be less painful for him if she pulled him out feet first. “Here goes nothing.”

Thea couldn’t get her hands all the way around his calves, they were that thick with muscle. Jesus, this guy was huge. “What do you eat?” she murmured, hauling him out and ignoring his groans of displeasure. “Steroid Popsicles?”

Conall stumbled on his feet as Thea wrapped her arm around his back to hold him up. He was worse than before, falling heavily into her, giving her his entire weight.

“Holy crap.” She braced against him. His weight wasn’t the issue, it was his size. He was at least nine inches taller than her and made of solid muscle. Unless he wanted her dragging his legs across concrete, she’d need a little help. There was only one way Thea knew how to make him angry enough to come around. “Wolf Boy, help me out here, yeah?”

His head snapped up, his eyes opening to little slits. “Brat,” he grouched, but it did the trick.

Curse words Thea had never even heard before filled her ears as she helped Conall into the motel room. Not wanting blood on the sheets, she took him into the small bathroom and tried to lay him gently on his stomach … but he kind of hit the ground. Hard.

“Sorry.” She winced before she hurried to lock the door and grab the first aid kit.

Inside she found scissors and began to cut off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Cutting off your shirt.”

“You’re … helping me?”

Thea snorted. “Just catching up, huh?”

His hands lay near his face, palms to the bathroom floor, but they curled into fists. “Why?”

She’d been asking herself that for the past hour. “You covered me back there. I know you did it for your own selfish reasons, but I owe you. I don’t like owing anyone.”

After that Conall was silent. Thea spread the cut shirt off his back, revealing three bullet holes in an uneven triangle near his right shoulder. The holes were inflamed around the outer edge and silver veins amassed like spiderwebs around the wounds.

That didn’t look good.

Thea felt a pang of sympathy.

“Okay.” She folded out the kit, which was supplied with scissor-like forceps, the kind surgeons used. “I’m going to pull out the bullets. Don’t worry. I’ve done this before.”

In Thea’s experience men had a lower pain threshold than women. She’d seen men grump and groan like babies over a flesh wound that a woman would have brushed off as a scratch. So she was a little taken aback when Conall barely responded to her digging the forceps into his wounds. His body jerked at first, but he merely clenched his jaw and didn’t make a noise as she dug around for the bullet. This guy was tough. A worthy opponent.

That wasn’t worrying.

Finally, Thea clamped down onto the squashed metal and pulled it out. Sure enough, beneath the blood smears, the metal shone silver in the light.

“Why silver?” Thea asked, thinking maybe it would distract the wolf as she went in for the second bullet.

“Why … what do … you mean?”

“Was it silver that caused your scar?”

His right cheek pressed to the floor so his left, scarred side faced toward her. As far as Thea knew, werewolves had amazing healing abilities. If someone slashed his face, it should have healed.

“Aye. Silver … is like poison to a wolf.”

She pulled out the second bullet. “You’re not the first werewolf to come after me, you know. Ashforth sent a werewolf after me about three years ago.” Thea dug in for the third and final bullet. “The bastard tried to rape me … so I broke his neck.”

Conall grew unnaturally still beneath her and she didn’t know if it was because she used the R word or because she’d admitted to trying to kill one of his kind.

“Realized that didn’t work when he caught up with me about a year later.” Thea pulled out the bullet, her stomach churning as she remembered he’d brought the syringes too. Only he hadn’t been fast enough to inject her like Conall had. Remembering Conall had hurt her, Thea yanked the last bullet out none-too-gently. “Silver isn’t the only weapon against you.”

“What …” He turned his head slightly to look at her. “What did you do?”

Thea refused to meet his gaze, searching the kit for bandaging. The bullet holes were closing but nowhere near as fast as hers would. “I ripped out his heart,” she said nonchalantly. Like she couldn’t still feel the sickening hot, wet lump of muscle in her palm.

“He deserved it. But you kill so easily.”

It wasn’t a question.

It was a statement. Like he knew her.

Enraged, Thea cut him a dark look. “Oh yeah,” she said, her voice filled with venom. “It’s so fucking easy.”

After that there was silence between them. Thea cleaned up his back and taped bandages over the bullet wounds. There was no more blood, however, and the silvery veins had all but disappeared.

Conall shifted on the floor. “I can sit.”

Thea stood and retreated as the werewolf sat up and leaned against the bathtub with a groan. He was one of the biggest men she’d ever met and every inch of him was hard and smooth. His broad, muscled chest was surprisingly so. Thea would have thought as a wolf, he’d be covered in hair. However, there was only a light dusting of a happy trail down his incredibly roped six-pack.