"No!" She rudely barked the word, then regretted the sharpness of her tone. "I mean...if anyone other than you has touched what ever you bring..."
He rubbed his jaw as he considered that. "Maybe it's not just me. I'm an identical quad. You think what ever immunity I have spreads to my brothers too?"
Oh, now that would be nice. But it was too much to hope for. Still, it was worth a shot. "We could test it."
Dev searched the room with his gaze until he spied Remi's book he'd borrowed a week ago. By now the stench of his brother should be off it. He picked it up from his nightstand and handed it to her.
She barely touched it before she withdrew her hand and hissed as if it'd burned her. "Did you know Remi listens to the Indigo Girls when he's alone in his room and that his favorite movie is Just Like Heaven?"
He burst out laughing at the idea of his surly brother watching such a chick flick. Gah, he'd rather have both eyes gouged out and force fed to him than watch that. "Really?"
She nodded. "Yeah. He'd die if you knew that. And whatever weirdness you have seems to be yours alone."
Good, 'cause he definitely didn't want her picking up on his embarrassing habits. Though to be honest, they weren't nearly as bad as Remi's. And he liked the idea that what he had with her was special and wasn't shared with other people. "We still need to tend that wound. If nothing else, it needs to be bandaged so that you're not leaking blood all over my sheets."
"No offense, I'd rather keep bleeding."
He gave her a sharp look before he headed to his chest of drawers and pulled out a T-shirt. "No lip from you, Amazon. We're going to stop that bleeding. I know it won't kill you, but it does weaken you."
Sam watched as he tore up his shirt to make a bandage for her. She didn't know why, but it touched her that he'd do such a thing. It'd been a long time since anyone was so kind to her. He returned to the bed and carefully tended her wound. "You're not bad for a nurse, Bear."
Dev smiled. "I have my moments...few and far between, I will grant you, but on rare occasions I can almost pass for a human." He paused as he had another thought. "If you're this sensitive to everything, how do you wear clothes? I mean they'd have the same property as a bandage, right?"
"Acheron conjures them for me."
"Well, why didn't you say that before I tore up my favorite shirt?"
Before she could ask him what he meant, he'd conjured a bowl of water and a washcloth.
Sam backed away as he reached for her with that cloth. "Test. Test!" she shouted when he didn't get the hint. "Don't stick that on me until we know for a fact that you have the same power Acheron does to keep cooties off that stuff."
"Cooties? You did not go there. Now who's being the big baby, huh?" He put one corner of the cloth on her arm. "There. You hallucinating yet?"
She took a minute to make sure before she answered. "No and you're lucky I'm not or I'd skin you and turn you into a rug."
Smirking at her, he wrung out the excess water and gently cleaned her injury while she lay on his bed.
Sam didn't speak as she let the heat of his skin soothe her. His hands were large and calloused, his knuckles scarred from centuries of fighting, yet at the same time his touch was gentle, soothing as he pushed up her shirt, baring her completely to his gaze. She didn't know why it made her feel vulnerable, but it did. He traced the cloth over her breasts, removing the blood before he bandaged her.
It seemed incongruous that a man so tough could be like this. That he'd been so tender earlier when he made love to her.
She'd been sure she was dead when the Daimon had picked her up to carry her through his portal. But for Dev, she'd be in Kalosis right now at their mercy. No doubt being tortured and killed. She owed him.
Big time.
"Thank you, Devon, for rescuing me."
He paused to look at her. "Dev is short for Devereaux, not Devon."
Wow, she'd never been wrong before. It was a weird sensation after all these centuries to not be able to pull out information like that when she needed it. "Devereaux Peltier." She savored the syllables of his name that flowed and rolled from her tongue. "It's very soft sounding."
He made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. "Oh thank you so much. That's what every man wants to hear about his name. You might as well call me 'Little Pecker' while you're at it and tell me you'd love to have me go shopping with you for feminine hygiene products. Oh and by all means, carry a big, sparkling pink bag with flowers on it and make me hold it."
She laughed at the images he described, then winced as it sent a wave of pain through her chest. "I didn't mean it that way. It's a beautiful name and I doubt even an oversized pink purse could erode your tough machismo."
"Mmm-hmm. Too late. You've emasculated me. There's no coming back from it now."
"None at all?"