Something slammed in the back of the truck, then Maddie opened the driver's side door and climbed in. He curbed the urge to tell her to hurry and looked out the window instead. The creature no longer sat in the shadows. Maybe it had lost interest in them and moved on. He smiled grimly. The chances of that happening are about as high as meflying right now...
Maddie ground the gears, and the truck jerked forward. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, fighting his need to sleep. There was a lot he had to do. He couldn't afford to sleep yet.
Again, the faint hint of roses surrounded him. He smiled slightly. It was a scent that suited her. The rose was a beautiful flower, yet its stem was covered with such prickly thorns. He had a feeling much the same could be said about Madeline.
The truck slid to a sudden stop, and he was jerked forward, then back, abruptly. He clutched his arm and swore softly.
"Sorry." She barely glanced his way as she scrambled out. "Have to do up the fence."
"Leave it," he said through gritted teeth, but he was speaking to air.
"Damn."
He rolled down the window and leaned out, looking for her. And saw the cat in the distance, its shape indistinct in the night as it sauntered towards them.
"Madeline, get back in the truck." He kept his voice low, not wanting to scare her or spur the cat into action.
She stopped looping the wire and turned towards him. Though he couldn't see her features clearly, he felt the leap of fear through her body. She was ready to run, but she didn't, and he thanked the gods for sending him a sensible woman.
"Why?" she asked quietly.
"Just get in the truck," he repeated, his gave never leaving the creature.
"But-" She hesitated, then dropped the wire and walked back quickly. The cat stopped, watching them for several seconds before it turned and sauntered back towards the dark outlines of the homestead. Had it lost interest, or had it found what it was looking for? He sensed it was the latter and hoped like hell he hadn't landed Maddie into trouble right alongside him. He rolled up the window as the truck moved off. At least he had a starting point now—all he had to do was track down the cat once Maddie had removed the arrow. He grimaced. Yeah. Real easy.
The truck bumped quickly along the old road. He held on grimly as Maddie pulled around a sharp righthand turn, then reached out and gently touched her leg. She jumped and gave him a wild-eyed look. Only then did he realize just how much he'd frightened her.
"It's all right. We're safe," he said, cursing himself for a fool. He was supposed to be an empath—why in the hell hadn't he sensed what she was going through? "Ease up a little. No one's after us."
She swallowed hard and nodded. The brakes ground harshly as she pulled over to the side of the road and stopped.
"What did you see back there?" she asked softly. He half shrugged, not wanting to scare her any more than necessary. "Nothing. Just spooked by the darkness."
She studied him for a moment. He could sense her uncertainty—about him, and the situation she'd been forced into. He suddenly wished there was more light so he could see her eyes. He had a feeling they would tell him a great many secrets.
He frowned at the thought. He was in Taurin Bay for one reason only—to find the missing kids and to stop the people responsible for their disappearance. He didn't have time for any diversions, even one as interesting as Maddie.
"I need you to take the arrow from my arm," he said, more abruptly than he'd intended.
"And I think you should let a doctor do that..." her voice trailed off as she met his gaze. "Why are you so reluctant to see a doctor about this?" Good question. "Walking into an emergency room with an arrow wound might attract the sort of attention I'm trying to avoid." Which was the truth but not the true answer to her question.
"It might have hit an artery or something." She hesitated, then added softly,
"I might kill you."
It was a normal fear, given the look of the wound, yet instinct suggested her fear stemmed more from something else. The tremor in her voice spoke of a past acquaintance with death—and that it was an acquaintance she had no wish to renew.
"You won't kill me," he said quietly, sensing it wouldn't take much more to scare her into running. "If an artery was severed, I'd have bled to death by now."
"But-"
"I'll be all right. I just need the arrow removed. Every time I move, it digs a little deeper." Killed him just a little bit more.
She swallowed and nodded. "There's a first aid kit under your seat." He leaned forward and retrieved the kit. She turned on the overhead light, then took the kit from him. Her fingers shook as she sorted through the bandages and antiseptics.
"There's not a pair of tweezers big enough."
"Just use your fingers." He reached across and caught her hand. Her fingers were soft and warm against his, silk compared to sandpaper. "I'll be fine."