me with both tenderness and pain. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. I lifted the coat and looked at the wound. Vincent knelt beside me.
"It won't stop, it won't stop," I moaned.
Vincent peered over my shoulder. "Femoral artery."
After over a millennium, I knew the human body and what could kill it. I would have realized what kind of a shot this was if I hadn't been so hysterical.
"It'll drain him," I whispered, pressing the coat into his leg again. I had seen it happen before, watched people bleed to death right in front of me. "It'll kill him before they get here. That bullet hit perfectly."
Beside me, I heard Vincent take a deep, shaking breath. Then, his hands covered mine. "Take it away," he said softly.
"I have to slow the bleeding."
But he gently lifted my hands away, taking the coat up as well. There was blood everywhere. I imagined I could see it steaming in the cold air.
Vincent rested his hands on Seth's thigh, oblivious to the mess. Words formed on the tip of my tongue but never came out. The air around us began burning, and a prickling feeling raced across my skin. For a moment, Seth seemed to be bathed in white light. From Vincent, I suddenly had the sensation of dried lavender and humidity. It was tinged in something else...something I'd never hoped to sense again.
Then, it all faded away. Vincent removed his hands, and when I looked down, blood no longer oozed from Seth's thigh.
"I'm sorry," gasped Vincent. "I'm not so good at healing, and if I do any more, the others will sense me. This will keep him alive until the ambulance gets here."
In the distance, I heard the faint sounds of sirens. In my chest, my heart thudded. The world slowed its pace. How long had Vincent said he'd known Yasmine? Fifteen years. Too, too long. He didn't look any older than thirty. They hadn't met when he was a teen. The timing didn't make sense. Neither did the fact that he had just healed a major injury.
But none of that was as telling as what else I'd already discovered. For just a moment, he'd let his defenses slip, and I'd felt - an immortal signature. And while immortals have unique features of their own, all types of immortals have certain attributes that identify them by creature as well. Succubi. Vampires. Angels. Demons. Vincent's signature had given him away.
The others will sense me.
I stared at Vincent as red flashing lights rounded the corner. My eyes were as wide as Seth's had been.
"You're a nephilim," I breathed.
CHAPTER 15
The doctors at the hospital said Seth's survival was a miracle. Which, of course, it was.
The police officers who talked to all of us believed Seth's actions had been rash - but also admirable. Defending a fair maiden tends to elicit that reaction, and since Seth hadn't been killed, no one else viewed his gallant defense quite the same as I did. Because honestly?
I thought it was stupid.
I thought it was so stupid, and I was furious. Beyond furious. I'd surpassed it and moved into an uncharted area of enragement.
What had he been thinking?
"I wasn't thinking," he told me in a low voice, when I questioned him in the ER. The others had stepped out for a moment, busy with other things, and it was just the two of us. Seth lay on the bed, face still pale, but otherwise alive and well. "That guy had a gun. You were in his line of fire."
I opened my mouth to argue the poor logic there, but one of the doctors stepped back inside. She needed to check Seth, and I backed out of the room before I said something I'd regret. Seth might have acted like an idiot, but he was in the hospital with a major injury. Blowing up right now probably wasn't the most appropriate course of action for the healing process.
Instead, I sought out Vincent. After his interview with the police, he'd stationed himself down the hall, back against the wall and hands stuffed into his pockets. He tilted his head back, face staring miserably up at the ceiling.
"Hey," I said, careful to keep a safe space between us.
He glanced down at me. "Hey. How is he?"
"Fine - considering everything. The doctors are amazed the bullet 'missed.'"
Vincent turned away and gazed blankly down the hall. He stayed silent.
I didn't know what to say. So...you're a nephilim. How's that working out?
Frankly, I could