Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(70)

“Are you okay?” she asked, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He caught her hand and lowered it toward the seat, but he didn’t let go. He was shaking just as much as she was. “I will be. Shifters heal fast. I won’t bleed out.”

“Oh God, Devon, I’m so—” She’d turned the wheel too far. The SUV swerved wildly, nearly dropping them into a ditch. “Crap. This thing is really sensitive. I’m so sorry.”

“Keep us above forty, and get us home. We’ll be safe as soon as we get past the ward.”

“They can run that fast?” She glanced in the rearview mirror, but no sprinting shapes took up the middle of the road behind them. If the vampires were chasing them, they were taking a different path. “Maybe we should go into the Realm?”

“The fastest of them can run that fast, and I have a feeling your admirer qualifies. Head home. I don’t know that my body would survive the crossing just yet.” He coughed, shaking with each hacking wheeze of breath. Blood pooled under his leg. Tears obscured Charity’s eyes until she could blink them away.

“I need to pass out for a while. The ward will keep out two vamps, no matter how old.”

Terror squeezed her heart. His voice was so weak, his body bowed over, as if completely sapped of strength and vitality. “Why do you have to pass out? You can’t heal awake?”

“We can, it just takes longer. If I shut down my body for everything but healing, all my energy will go to stitching things back together from the inside out. Take a left here.” He coughed again, huge, full-body spasms that had him dipping forward painfully.

“Oh God, Devon… Oh God.” Charity was going fifty and dared not go any faster. If she took a corner too fast and hit a tree, those vamps would find them, and then she and Devon would be screwed.

“Almost there. You’re doing fine.”

“Get my phone. Call…someone. Andy or Dillon or even Yasmine—we should call someone! Do you know Roger’s number? Maybe we should call him.”

Devon coughed again, his head lolling. “I just need to pass out.”

“Okay. Almost…here. We’re here!”

She skidded to a stop in the driveway, then jumped out and dashed around the hood before pulling at his door. What she saw froze her to the bones.

The overhead light showered Devon’s slumped body. It was much worse than she’d thought, and she had thought it was bad. Scores of jagged parallel lines marred his skin. Deep red blood, almost black, dribbled down his back or across his hip, she couldn’t tell which, indicating a wide and deep wound that would have a normal human bleeding out quickly. More blood smeared across his stomach, legs, and arms. Very little of his skin was clear, and that was covered in pavement rash and grime.

“Please tell me all that blood isn’t yours,” Charity said, reaching in for him.

“It’s not all mine. I rocked that first vamp. Did you see it?” His lips quirked up into a painful grin. He coughed and then winced as he spasmed.

“Okay. It’s okay. Let’s get you inside.” She gingerly touched his arm, trying to find a spot to grab with no blood. Slim pickings. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah. Help?”

He basically fell out of the SUV, his larger body leaning heavily on hers. Grunting, she maneuvered her shoulder under his heavy arm and draped him across her body. They hobbled to the front door. Warm wetness soaked into her clothes from his wounds.

“Your bedroom or the couch?” she asked, one arm around his back, the other on his six-pack so he didn’t tip forward.

“Bed,” he wheezed.

They staggered down the hall, a spot of blood smearing the wall where his shoulder bumped. They barged into his room and hovered near the side of his bed.

“Stand here for a minute and I’ll go get…uh, some rags? Do you have rags?”

Devon half climbed, half fell onto his bed. His limbs sprawled out. Red marred the white sheets. His eyes fluttered closed.

“Thanks for coming back for me,” he whispered in a rough voice thick with pain.

“Of course I did.” She looked over his body. There was so much bleeding! She knew werewolves healed unnaturally fast, had seen evidence of it, but could he really come back from this? “I need to clean you up. I have to clean you up.”

He didn’t answer, and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought he’d died. But his chest rose, then fell, in the rhythmic breathing of deep sleep.

“That’s good. Sleep is good.” The house listened silently to her words. Branches danced in the moonlight outside the window.

“Why did we spend so long shopping?” Her chest constricted. Hopefully, the vamps didn’t know where Devon lived, and if they did, which they probably did, they couldn’t get through the ward.

No more time to spare on those thoughts, she dashed to the window and lowered the blinds—his room actually had some. Then she rushed to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. If he wasn’t worried about the sheets, he probably wouldn’t care if a towel was ruined. Searching through the cabinets, she found a first-aid kit and a stack of large white bandages. He was prepared. Thank God.

Back by his side, she got busy. First she cleaned him off, gently wiping away all the blood so she could get a good look at the damage. Next she bandaged up the larger lacerations, trying to stop the bleeding. She fervently hoped that whatever healing abilities shifters possessed would counteract the need for stitches.