Nakul could wait a few fucking hours. I was half-dead on my feet and knew it was pointless to go out and do anything at this point.
“Thanks. And thank you for getting Wesley.”
“Thank you for not killing him. He’s—”
“Not in his right mind,” I whispered. “I know.”
I turned back to Raphael and Wesley to see some of the werewolves, still in human form, were chaining the poor out-of-control werewolf with a silver-steel mix many used to control werewolves and werecats. Raphael slowly released control, and the black, whatever it was, retreated. His eyes met mine as they became warm chocolate brown.
“Where do you want me to drive?” he asked, walking to me, ignoring the wolves giving him strange looks. I saw Wagner’s face pinch in disgust. Raphael didn’t give it any visible thought, reaching out to touch my still bleeding head.
“Head wounds bleed fast, but it’s fine. I won’t drop dead just yet,” I promised. “I’ll tell you where we’re headed at the car.”
I tried to take two steps, staggered. Before I tripped, I was swooped up.
Now the man was carrying me.
“Are you going to put that away?” he asked softly. I looked at my hand.
I was still holding the dagger.
“No,” I mumbled, leaning into him as another wave of dizziness washed over me. He started walking, leaving the wolves behind. No one said a word. The silence was respectful.
21
Chapter Twenty-One
The storm was already beginning to die down when Raphael got me to the car. Once there, I made it known I wanted to be put down.
“I can get in the car on my own,” I said, somewhat indignantly. “I’ll admit, I needed the help here, but I can sit down by myself.”
The noise that came from him wasn’t human. The deep, guttural growl made his chest vibrate, making me do the same. When I looked up at him, his eyes were black.
“I’m amazed you’re not dead. Do we have anything in the car we can put on your head?”
“Yeah, in the trunk.” I kept a small emergency kit for first aid. I wasn’t a complete fool. Normally, when I got injured on the job, I was the only one around. I had to be able to handle the small shit to get myself home to handle the big stuff. Or to a healer who would charge me out the ass for services, some worse than others, depending on who was available.
He put me down, so I hobbled to the passenger’s side, fumbling to get my keys out of my pocket, amazed they were still there. Once I got it unlocked, I fell into the seat, trying to ignore the throbbing pain. The ointment was either completely gone or totally ineffective at this point.
Raphael came around with the very item we needed, and I was glad I didn’t have to find it for him. The red bag was red for a reason. I needed to be able to see it among all of my black bags, and red normally meant medical. It was easy to remember.
He said nothing as he put the bag on my lap and opened it. I sat patiently as he grabbed several items—first, the alcohol swabs, which stung as they always did, then bandages and gauze pads. The pads went on first, the bandages next, then he got a fucking ace wrap and used that.
What I wasn’t expecting was when he pulled his shirt off, making my fangs drop. I blinked several times as rock-hard muscle entered my vision. Beautiful, tawny skin was marred by light scars that seemed older than they probably were, but even those were attractive to me.
I could fucking melt into that fucking body, and he just carried me to my car.
It took me longer than I cared to find the words to address the elephant in the room about his now shirtless appearance.
“What are you—”
I didn’t finish as he grabbed my chin and wiped off my face with his soaking wet, freezing cold shirt. I shoved it away, glaring.
“I’m not four,” I snapped. “Put that fucking thing back on.”
“I’m not driving you through the fucking city with blood all over your face and neck. If I wipe that off, we can tell a cop that you were just coming home from the hospital after slipping in the rain or something. Covered in blood, they’ll think I fucking beat you. Fuck, they might think that anyway, but you can at least try to make this easier for me,” he snarled. “I’m not