Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(111)

Now, she remembered. Owen and Gawain had tucked her into a black van packed with hostages. All the vans, loaded with females and the wounded, had driven to the front gate. Far down the street on both sides, emergency vehicles were flashing lights. The downed utility poles and power lines had blocked traffic.

One female asked, “Then how will we get out?”

“Watch.” Grinning, Shay’d stomped on the gas, driven straight across the street, over the curb, across a front lawn, scraped between two houses and into a backyard. The van convoy had torn through residential properties, flattening fences and landscaping, to finally emerge onto a quiet street blocks away.

Such a getaway.

“There she is.” Owen’s voice.

Relief poured through her, and she struggled to sit up.

“Lie still, catling.” With his littermate beside him, Gawain knelt and pressed her back onto the blanket.

She breathed in their scents, feeling the hard knot in her belly unwind. “Are you all right?” Darcy touched the blood-drenched rag around Gawain’s arm.

“Nothing serious.” Gawain checked the rough bandage he’d put around her leg.

Owen tilted her chin up to look at the one on her neck. He scowled. “You got the worst of it.” The snarls beneath his words showed how he felt about her getting hurt.

She tapped his nose as she would a puppy. “I’ll be fine.”

“Donal was supposed to heal everything.” Owen glared around as if he’d drag the healer over himself.

“He was—”

“He’s tapped out.” Tynan walked over, set down a box, and crouched beside her. “In a city, this far from the Mother, he’s weak. He knew he would be, but insisted on coming anyway. Even exhausted, he was able to locate and remove the females’ trackers.”

Gawain grunted. “I’d forgotten the hostages here had trackers. I’m glad someone remembered.”

“He couldn’t heal the females—and that pissed him off. I sent him back to Cold Creek with the worst of the injured. Once he recovers some energy, he’ll be able to heal them—at least enough to keep them alive.”

Darcy shook her head. “Poor Donal. I bet he hated not being able to fix everyone.”

“The idiot ran himself so dry he passed out,” Tynan said.

“Fuck.” Owen blinked. “Healers have died doing that.”

“Aye.” Scowling, Tynan pushed the box toward Gawain. “He left us the supplies he brought. Clean your group’s wounds, wrap them up, and hand off the bag to the next person.”

“What’s the plan for the Dogwood villagers?” Gawain opened the box.

“After the shifter-soldiers arrive and get a bit of time with sisters, the females will go to Rainier Territory for a couple of weeks. The Cosantirs in Washington and Oregon are working out who goes where. Some of the people have family elsewhere, some don’t; some will have preferences.” After smiling at Darcy, Tynan headed into the crowd.

“If the soldiers are here, have you seen my broth—” Burning pain jolted her, and she hissed at Gawain who’d pulled the gauze off her arm. “Ouch. Donal was nicer.”

His lips twitched. “No, he wasn’t. He dug a bullet out of you, remember?”

Well, okay, but still…

Gawain kissed her lightly. “I am sorry I hurt you.” His blue eyes showed his worry.

Guilt washed through her. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Owen snorted. “I kind of enjoy seeing you in a temper…but I can gag her if you prefer, brawd.”

“What?” She glared…and then she saw the strain in the cahir’s face.

Seeing her in pain was upsetting him. Jaw locked, he moved his grip from her hand to her forearm, keeping her arm immobile.

“You’re such a mean cahir,” she said to try get a smile.

It didn’t work, but he rubbed his knuckles lightly over her cheek.

Trying not to show how much Gawain’s efforts hurt, she gritted her teeth and suffered. As her newly dressed arm throbbed and burned, she wanted to whimper when he started on her thigh. She gave him a beseeching look. “We could just skip my leg.”

Owen was the one to kiss her this time. “Puppy-dog eyes. Very nice. Nevertheless, we’re still going to clean it up.”

He waited a second—and kissed the pout off her lips as well.

If she’d had the heart, she’d have smacked him on the nose. Yet the merciless jerk hugged her when—as she’d thought—the dressing really, really did hurt.

As Gawain finished the wrapping job, Owen pulled her against him and said in a rough voice, “It didn’t look too bad.”

She rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. “Honestly, I think it hurt you worse than it did me.” And now that her eyes weren’t blinded by tears, she noticed Gawain’s face was just as grim.

“You shouldn’t have been there,” Gawain said. “We know how you felt about that place, and you went in without us.”

“Then you got hurt with me right there.” Owen’s voice was like a badly tuned motor—rough and ragged. “Should have been me.”

Such guilt. Her heart warmed with love. After stroking Owen’s cheek, she pulled Gawain down for another kiss. “If you hadn’t been there, I’d be dead. Instead, we’re all alive. I’m happy.”