curls of the tiny girl who lay shivering on the floor, holding her hand over her stomach.
The girl whimpered and drew away before her dark gaze flew behind Memory. “Clay.” Hope, relief, pain smashed into Memory’s senses. “The bad man cut me.”
“I’ve got you now, kitten.” Clay ran one big hand over the girl’s hair before hauling off his T-shirt and folding it up into a makeshift pad. “Call Aden, see if we can get Vasic here. Paramedics won’t be able to get through—”
“No teleporters,” Memory said, her head screaming with Vashti’s fear. “She’s so afraid.”
“Shh.” Clay pressed a kiss to the trembling girl’s cheek. “No teleporters then.” He nodded at Alexei. “This is my friend, Alexei. He’s a wolf, but I like him anyway. He’s going to do first aid on you while I go get a healer I know is on this street somewhere. Okay?”
Vashti swallowed hard but nodded.
Memory saw Clay pull his phone out of his pocket as he ran up the steps. She wanted badly to comfort the small, hurt E, but that whimper at the start had held pure terror—the second-long burst of contact with Renault must’ve altered Memory’s psychic scent. Forcing herself to back off, she went to watch the door while Alexei touched the child with conscious gentleness as he attempted to stop the flow of blood from her stomach wound.
“I have you, sweetheart,” he murmured, no growl in his voice. “I have to put pressure on the wound. It’ll hurt, but it’s important. Ready?”
Memory didn’t hear the girl’s quiet response, but Alexei spoke again not long afterward. “So how’d you meet Clay? Wild party? Catnip-rolling contest?”
A small giggle. “DarkRiver had a . . . picnic.” Words that were a touch breathless. “My dad took me . . . I played . . . with . . . Noor.” Sucked-in air that had Memory urging Clay to hurry. “She’s younger . . . but smart. She . . . gave me her . . . hair bow.”
“Next time we meet, you wear it so I can see,” Alexei said. “Stay with me, Vashti. Open those pretty eyes. There you go.” His voice was calm, steady. “I bet the cats tell all kinds of stories about wolves, don’t they? I’m gonna let you in on a secret—they’re just sore because we’re better-looking. I mean those cats are covered in black spots, while we’re sleek and handsome. Clear winners of the wild beauty contest.”
As the little girl giggled again, the sound scarily weak, Memory opened out her senses in an effort not to miss Renault should he decide to chance a return. She didn’t want him anywhere near the little girl he’d hurt for no reason but that he could—he was a teleporter, hadn’t needed the distraction to get away.
A thousand emotions slammed into her the instant she lowered her first shield, the festival area bursting with minds upon minds. Gritting her teeth, she narrowed the aperture in her shield until it was on the edge of pain but bearable.
“Alexei,” she asked. “Do you have a knife?” Unlike Vasic, Nerida, and Abbot, Renault couldn’t teleport another person without physical contact, and at this point in the day’s events, he wouldn’t have enough Tk energy left to hold her in place and teleport out with her.
Jabbing at him with a knife would work to keep him at bay.
“Here.” A metallic rasp against stone as Alexei slid across what proved to be a hunting blade. She gripped it, held watch, while Alexei fought to keep Vashti from slipping into unconsciousness.
Memory feared no one would get here in time, not with the crowd, and second-guessed her decision to veto a teleporter. But Vashti had been so afraid. Panic could cause her mind to short out, her heart to stop. But if there was no choice—
Feet pounded down the stairs.
The woman who entered with Clay was statuesque, with rich brown hair to her waist and a body that was all dangerous curves and power. She was dressed in dark blue jeans that hugged her legs, black ankle boots, and a fuzzy red sweater with gold threads woven into it. On her head was a band that glowed with blue liquid and had wobbling eyes on top of it.
And inside her flowed the same deep well of wild compassion that Memory had felt from Lucy.
The healer ran directly toward Vashti, Clay following with a satchel in hand. “Tammy’s emergency kit,” the leopard said to Alexei, his chest heaving. “I directed