“It’s not all mine. I rocked that first vamp. Did you see it?” His lips quirked up into a painful grin. He coughed and then winced as he spasmed.
“Okay. It’s okay. Let’s get you inside.” She gingerly touched his arm, trying to find a spot to grab with no blood. Slim pickings. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah. Help?”
He basically fell out of the SUV, his larger body leaning heavily on hers. Grunting, she maneuvered her shoulder under his heavy arm and draped him across her body. They hobbled to the front door. Warm wetness soaked into her clothes from his wounds.
“Your bedroom or the couch?” she asked, one arm around his back, the other on his six-pack so he didn’t tip forward.
“Bed,” he wheezed.
They staggered down the hall, a spot of blood smearing the wall where his shoulder bumped. They barged into his room and hovered near the side of his bed.
“Stand here for a minute and I’ll go get…uh, some rags? Do you have rags?”
Devon half climbed, half fell onto his bed. His limbs sprawled out. Red marred the white sheets. His eyes fluttered closed.
“Thanks for coming back for me,” he whispered in a rough voice thick with pain.
“Of course I did.” She looked over his body. There was so much bleeding! She knew werewolves healed unnaturally fast, had seen evidence of it, but could he really come back from this? “I need to clean you up. I have to clean you up.”
He didn’t answer, and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought he’d died. But his chest rose, then fell, in the rhythmic breathing of deep sleep.
“That’s good. Sleep is good.” The house listened silently to her words. Branches danced in the moonlight outside the window.
“Why did we spend so long shopping?” Her chest constricted. Hopefully, the vamps didn’t know where Devon lived, and if they did, which they probably did, they couldn’t get through the ward.
No more time to spare on those thoughts, she dashed to the window and lowered the blinds—his room actually had some. Then she rushed to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. If he wasn’t worried about the sheets, he probably wouldn’t care if a towel was ruined. Searching through the cabinets, she found a first-aid kit and a stack of large white bandages. He was prepared. Thank God.
Back by his side, she got busy. First she cleaned him off, gently wiping away all the blood so she could get a good look at the damage. Next she bandaged up the larger lacerations, trying to stop the bleeding. She fervently hoped that whatever healing abilities shifters possessed would counteract the need for stitches.
Having seen to his immediate needs, she covered him up with a clean blanket and grabbed his gun from the open safe in his closet—he hadn’t wanted to give her his code. She would be damned if all the money Devon had spent would go to waste in the back of the SUV. Not to mention that the house wouldn’t save her if the vamps got through the ward protecting the property. That trick with locks was practical for breaking and entering.
She tiptoed out of the house. Although being quiet didn’t matter, the action seemed to fit. The still night waited for her, crickets singing from within the folds of darkness. The SUV, scraped and dented, sat in the driveway, alone and forgotten.
No faces or shapes waited at the property line. At least, not yet. But then, her BFF and his buddies had known Charity and Devon would be at that store. No doubt they also knew it would be senseless to hang around outside a warded property.
Still, just in case, she’d decided not to call the rest of the pack. If the vamps were out there, watching and waiting, anyone trying to get in would probably be ambushed. She didn’t want to endanger them needlessly. Devon said he wouldn’t bleed out. She had to trust that.
Bag by bag, she brought the groceries into the house and put them away. That done, she trudged back in to check on him, exhaustion dragging down her eyelids. She sucked in a breath of surprise to find the smaller scrapes nearly gone!
Crazy. She wished she healed that fast.
She brushed a strand of hair away from his handsome face and then traced her fingers down his cheek. Sighing, she looked in the direction of her room. She could barely see the sliding glass through the open door. Foliage bowed and waved, no more distinct