The Prison Healer (The Prison Healer #1)(50)

Naari nodded, and before Kiva could say anything else, Jaren yelped and sprang away from the workbench.

“What the—” He bit off halfway through his curse with an embarrassed laugh as he caught sight of the soot-gray cat who had snuck out of a hidey-hole in the medicine cabinet and brushed up against him. “Well, hello. Who’s this?”

Kiva had to press her lips together to keep from laughing, his jumpy reaction making her feel better about her own skittish nature.

“That’s B-B-Boots,” Tipp said, pointing to her four white paws in explanation of the name.

When Jaren started moving back toward the cat with his hand outstretched, Kiva’s amusement fled and she warned, “Careful, she’s moody.”

Jaren’s eyes were dancing as he replied, “She must be yours.”

Tipp cackled, Naari snickered, and Kiva glared at all three of them.

“Haven’t you m-met her yet?” Tipp asked around his mirth.

Jaren inched closer to the bench again, and Kiva didn’t warn him off this time. Instead, she shifted further away from the cat, keeping a safe distance.

“I’ve seen her around the prison,” Jaren answered Tipp, “but I just figured she was a stray who came and went.”

Tipp shook his head. “She’s lived here f-forever. Longer than m-me.” He indicated where Boots’s tail should have been, but there was only a stumped end. “See her tail? She lost it j-just after I arrived. There was a riot and some of the p-prisoners slammed a d-door shut on her.”

Jaren winced. “Ouch.”

“Kiva had to p-patch her up,” Tipp continued sharing, his fatigue having faded with his walk down memory lane.

“You treat animals, too?” Jaren asked, brows raised. “A woman of many talents.”

“Little thanks I get for it,” Kiva said, ignoring the fluttery feeling of his praise. “She was a devil cat before the accident, and she’s hated me even more ever since. I can’t go anywhere near her now without being scratched to death.”

“Ah,” Jaren said, a smile breaking out on his face as he understood her earlier warning. Or, that’s what Kiva assumed, until he again reached out to pet the fluffy feline.

“No, wait—” Kiva started, only to stop when Boots didn’t reveal that she was evil incarnate, and instead arched into Jaren’s touch, purring loud enough for them all to hear. “Traitor,” she muttered under her breath.

Jaren sent her a blinding grin. “I have that effect on all moody—”

“If you value your health, don’t finish that sentence,” Kiva stated, her cheeks beginning to heat.

Tipp started laughing again, but then it turned into a yawn so huge that Kiva was sure she heard his jaw crack. Narrowing her eyes, she jabbed a finger toward him and said, “You, bed.” To Jaren, she added, just as snippily, “You, make sure he gets there without falling asleep.”

Jaren chuckled quietly, as if fully aware that she didn’t want to be left alone with him. Not that they’d be alone with Naari there, but still. Kiva had made it no secret that she was avoiding one-on-one time with him. He just wasn’t getting the hint that she couldn’t—and wouldn’t—form any more attachments at Zalindov, not even friendship.

“Until next time, Boots,” Jaren said to the cat with one last scratch under her chin, before pushing off from the workbench and reaching Tipp just as he scrambled down to the ground.

“See you t-tomorrow, Kiva!” the young boy said with a wave as Jaren began herding him from the infirmary, the latter offering one last smile at Kiva over his shoulder before he was gone.

Naari, however, remained behind. When Kiva looked at her, the woman said, “Are you sleeping in your cell block tonight?” At Kiva’s nod, Naari continued, “I’ll wait until you’re ready to leave.”

Kiva had to swallow the emotion she felt, surprised to find that it was relief, not fear. The other guards were still causing more trouble than usual for the inmates, especially at night. Naari’s presence would keep them at bay.

“Thank you,” Kiva croaked out.

In return, Naari said, “I saw the way you looked between Jaren and me.”

Kiva wished she could say she didn’t know what the guard was talking about. “It’s none of my business,” she mumbled, reaching toward Boots but withdrawing her hand quickly when the demon cat hissed and then tottered back into her hidey-hole.

“You’re right, it’s not,” Naari agreed. “But all the same, I would never carry out inappropriate relations with someone under my charge.”

A weight lifted from Kiva, even if she mentally scolded herself for feeling that way. She didn’t care whether Naari and Jaren were having relations, inappropriate or otherwise—or so she tried to convince herself.

“That’s very . . . professional of you,” Kiva said, desperate for something to say. “I’m sure I speak for all prisoners when I say we appreciate it.”

Naari tilted her head, her cropped hair and jade earring both shining in the light of the luminium beacons. “You intrigue me.”

“I . . . what?”

“I’ve been on duty here for months,” Naari said, gesturing to the infirmary. “Long enough to watch how you interact with others. Aside from Tipp and, on the rare occasion, Mot and Grendel, you keep almost exclusively to yourself.”