A Tangle of Hearts (A Shade of Vampire #44)(12)

He’d jumped in and faced off against a dozen shape-shifters so I could get out of that swamp alive with a creature we knew nothing about.

A succubus, as Bijarki had so quickly identified.

I watched as the incubus retrieved water, herbs, and towels to treat her wounds. She’d taken quite the beating in that jungle. Long, deep cuts ran from her shoulder down her arm and down one of her legs.

She clearly didn’t like us much. She could probably feel that we didn’t trust her. She tried to push Bijarki away, hissing at him like Lucifer on a bad day.

Bijarki didn’t pay much attention to her. His focus was aimed at her wounds. Her skin was silvery like his, and her blood resembled liquid mercury as it seeped from the cuts. Her body was a sight to behold, even beneath the layers of red paint and swamp dirt. Her shoulders were wide, while her hourglass figure was toned with heavy training.

Her hair was long, the color of the night sky. Even tangled with twigs and leaves and mud, it preserved its specific brilliance. Her lips were full and seemed soft, and I leaned in, tempted to touch them.

“Jovi, snap out of it,” Bijarki said, tearing me out of my silent analysis of the stranger I’d risked everything to save. “Be careful. You don’t know what she’s capable of.”

Guilt washed over me anew. I’d risked my friend’s life for her. If he never woke up, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

“Get away from me,” the woman growled at us and pushed Bijarki away. Her voice was hypnotic, a low and guttural melody that sounded alarm bells in the back of my head.

“We’re trying to help you,” I said. My voice sounded weak, and I mentally slapped myself for my inability to come across as firm and unyielding in front of this stranger with unknown intentions.

“Sit still, succubus,” Bijarki snapped, “unless you want to crawl out of here while bleeding to death.”

That worked better than my pathetic attempt at calming her down. She stilled but kept her stunning body stiff, while Bijarki cleaned the cuts and applied a mixture of nasty smelling herbs down their entire length. I could tell he had done this before, perhaps one too many times.

I looked at her and found her watching me, her eyes wide with a mixture of gold and green, shadowed by long, black eyelashes. I took one of the damp towels and started cleaning the dirt and paint off her body. I started with her face, since the thought of my hands anywhere near those incredible curves made me want to hit myself.

Slowly but surely, I was able to uncover the most beautiful face I had ever laid eyes on. She looked like she had been expertly crafted from my wildest dreams and coated in a thin layer of silver. Her skin was smooth, almost luminescent. And her eyes were fixed on me, drawing heat into my chest.

“What’s your name?” I asked, unable to take the silence anymore.

Without taking her eyes off me, she breathed deeply and let out a heavy sigh. Her chest caught my attention, and I mentally kicked myself again.

“Anjani,” she finally answered. There was that voice again. Her perfect face showed absolutely no expression. She baffled me.

“Like I said, Jovi, stay sharp.” Bijarki trashed my moment again. “We don’t know what her allegiance is or what she’s doing here.”

“My allegiance is to my tribe and no one else!” Anjani shot back, her chin high and ego apparently bruised far worse than her gorgeous body.

Stop it.

“Where is your tribe?” I asked, determined to keep Bijarki’s focus on treating her cuts and out of the conversation. He wasn’t exactly a model of trustworthiness either. She focused her attention on me again, and my heartbeat moved into my throat.

I stole a glance at Phoenix. Serena was cleaning his head wound while Vita mixed some herbs and strangely colored liquids in a bowl, following the Druid’s muttered instructions.

“My tribe is on the northern slope of the jungle mountain, a day’s trip from here, more or less,” Anjani replied, surprisingly calm and accurate. I turned my head back to look at her. Those eyes could capture my soul and hold it hostage for eternity.

“Whatever it is you think you’re feeling, chances are it’s not real.” Bijarki’s voice crashed down on my softened senses. “It’s in our nature.”

The woman scoffed and turned her head to the side, her eyes shut tight.

“Protest all you want, succubus,” Bijarki growled at her, “but until you tell us what tribe you belong to and what you were doing around here, you’re not to be trusted.”

“I strongly recommend that you secure her arms and legs, just in case,” Draven interjected from Phoenix’s bedside.

“I’m Anjani, sister of the Red Tribe up north,” she shot back, her husky voice tainted with pride. “We owe our allegiance to no one but ourselves! Azazel has not turned us!”

A long moment passed before Draven spoke again.

“As far as we know, almost all incubi have switched to his side, for the sake of survival rather than anything else,” the Druid replied. “We don’t know enough about the Red Tribe to simply take your word for it.”

“Fine. Then tie me down. But when my sisters ask about my treatment here, I’ll be sure to give them the full details,” Anjani spat back.

Bijarki paused the treatment process and tied her wrists and ankles to the bed’s iron frame with wide strips of linen.