Warrior (Relentless #4)(31)

Get it together. The last thing she needs is to see you lose it.

“Stay here,” I managed to say.

I ducked out of the cab and stormed away from the truck. My mate was hurt. Her cry of pain echoed in my head, and all I could see was blood. The smell clung to my nostrils, fueling the fury building inside me.

I almost ripped the storage compartment off my bike in my search for the can of gunna paste I kept there. The medicine was carried by all warriors because it was a pain reliever as well as an accelerant for our natural healing abilities.

I swore loudly when I couldn’t find the can of paste, and I almost punched Chris when he nudged me aside and dug through the compartment. His hand reappeared holding the metal cylinder, and I reached for it, but he held it away from me.

“Give me the goddamn can, Chris.” I advanced on my best friend.

“I will tend to her,” he said.

“The hell you will. I’ll take care of her.”

“Nikolas, you need to calm down,” he ordered in an even voice. “If you go over there like this, you’ll frighten her. Is that what you want?”

His words pierced my anger. “No, I don’t want that.”

He nodded. “She’ll be okay. Just get it under control while I do this.”

I stood rigidly beside my bike while he went to the truck. I heard the soft murmur of voices, and a few minutes later, Chris reappeared with Sara in his arms.

I started toward them, but stopped when he set her on her feet. She clung to him for support while he examined the injury on her arm and explained about crocotta venom. She looked weak, but her face was no longer twisted in pain, thanks to the gunna paste.

When Chris turned her and pulled up her coat and shirt to reveal the scratches on her back, a deep primal rage erupted inside me. It pulsed red behind my eyes, and my body trembled as my Mori fought for dominance. Only Chris’s words about frightening Sara kept me rooted to the spot and fighting with every ounce of willpower to control my Mori’s rage.

“These are a little deeper but nothing life-threatening,” Chris said loudly, and I knew he was trying to reassure me as much as her.

Sara looked at me, wearing a confused expression, but all I could do was stare back at her. Chris smiled and said, “I have a better bedside manner than my friend.”

“He looks angry. Is he mad at me?” she asked.

Chris shot me a warning look. “No. He’s upset that we were too late to stop you from getting hurt. He’s worked himself into a bit of a rage, and he just needs a minute to calm down.”

She looked away from me. “A rage?”

“Yes, it happens when…” He glanced at me again as if he was unsure of what to tell her. “It’s a Mori thing. You’ll learn about that stuff soon.”

“Oh.” She looked around fearfully. “Where are my friends?”

“They are making sure there are no more crocotta hiding nearby.” Chris whistled softly. “Six of them. That is an unusually large pack. Someone is very serious about finding you.”

I clenched my hands into fists at the thought of what would have happened if Erik hadn’t called me. If we hadn’t gotten here when we did…

“Finding me?” Sara asked in a small voice.

“The crocotta are trackers,” Chris told her. “Someone sent them after you, probably with orders to retrieve you.”

“They…almost killed me.”

He helped her into her torn, bloody coat. “The thrill of the hunt got the better of them. Good thing they’re not as good at killing as they are at tracking.”

She started to shake, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she uttered before she rushed to the other side of the road and threw up.

The sight of her in so much misery snapped me out of my rage, and I started toward her.

Chris held up a hand and mouthed, Wait.

“I’m good,” I said in a low voice.

The anger was gone, replaced by the need to comfort the girl who was quickly becoming the most important person in my life. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but right now, all that mattered was her well-being.

She finished retching and stood facing away from us, shivering with her arms wrapped around her. She looked so small and vulnerable that my chest ached.

I pulled off my leather jacket and walked over to drape it across her shoulders.

“I’ll get blood all over it,” she argued weakly.

I gently turned her to face me, wrapping the jacket around her to make sure she was covered and warm. The jacket swallowed her. The sight of her in it made my Mori happy and stirred more than my protective instincts.

I released her and took a step back. “I think it can stand a little blood.”

“I… Thank you,” she said softly.

I was glad to see she was no longer shivering. “Are you still in pain?”

She shook her head. “I’m much better, thanks.”

She looked past me, and I watched her face as her gaze moved over the dead crocotta and landed on the destroyed truck. Her eyes widened when she saw the extent of the damage for the first time.

“Only someone with warrior blood could have survived that,” I told her.

“I’m not a warrior.”

“So you keep telling me,” I challenged softly.