Stone Cold Touch. Jennifer L. ArmentroutЧитать онлайн книгу.
Like gobbled him right up.” A choked laugh escaped me as I ducked my chin. Strands of hair slipped forward over my shoulder. “Oh my God, this is so bad. I think it’s the Warden from the New York clan. Tomas? The one they were talking about downstairs. I mean, how many unfamiliar Wardens would just be roaming around D.C.? And that means Dez knows him and is probably his friend and I like Dez. He’s always been nice to me and now my pet demon snake ate his friend and I—”
“Whoa, slow down, Layla-bug. Okay? It might have been him, but there’s nothing we can do about that. He came at you and Bambi defended you. Enough said.”
“Yeah,” I breathed, knowing the other Wardens wouldn’t see it like that.
“Stay here.”
Like I was going anywhere bleeding and shirtless?
Zayne disappeared into his bathroom and returned quickly with two damp towels. He soaked up the blood in silence and the act...ah, it reminded me of when Roth had cleaned me up in his apartment, which made my chest ache as badly as my arm and this whole situation about a thousand times worse.
“How badly does this hurt?”
“It stings.” I watched the array of muscles moving under his shirt.
“Where’s Bambi now?” he asked, glancing to where the quilt covered my chest and belly.
“On me.”
He arched a brow. “Is she invisible now?”
I cracked a smile. “She’s wrapped around my leg at the moment. I think she’s hiding.”
“Maybe she has an upset stomach.”
A partly hysterical laugh burst free and a small grin stretched his lips. None of this was funny, but if I didn’t laugh, I’d probably start screaming. “I tried to stop her. And I tried to get the Warden to understand. I swear, Zayne. He just wouldn’t. He said I smelled like a demon. Do I smell like a demon?”
His mouth opened and then he clamped it shut. Tossed the bloodied towel to where my sweater lay. “The cut’s not healing up and it’s not going to with an iron blade and that’s damn...”
“Dangerous to demons. Great. That’s perfect.” I stared up at him, holding the quilt to my chest with one hand. “Do I smell like a demon?”
“Let me get Jasmine—”
“No. She’ll tell Abbot and that Warden probably belongs to the New York clan. Abbot will blame me.”
“No he won’t.”
A ball of unease formed in my belly. “I came to you because I trust you. You can’t tell your father. Please.”
Zayne’s shoulders tensed. “Then let me get Danika. Don’t look at me like you just swallowed cat urine.”
“Ew,” I groaned.
“She won’t say anything and she’s as good as Jasmine when it comes to these kinds of things.” He leaned in, placing his hands on either side of my legs. “We can trust Danika.”
I bet my face looked as though I’d also swallowed hamster pee.
Zayne got really close, pressing his forehead against mine. I tried to edge away, but he followed and he was too close. I closed my eyes, clamping my mouth shut as the urge to—to feed rose above the pain and the icy feeling of panic.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said, his hands curling around my knees. “I’m going to get your arm fixed up and then we’re going to figure this out. But if you trust me...”
I started to look away, but he placed his fingers on my cheeks, stopping me. “Zayne.”
“If you trust me, then you have to trust that this will be safe with Danika,” he continued. “I can’t do this—stitch your arm. Not by myself. Okay? I got you.”
Holding my breath, I nodded. I was unsure if I agreed just to get him to back away before I latched onto him or if I was actually willing to dump my trust in Danika’s—of all people’s—hands.
Zayne lifted his head and kissed my forehead, causing my heart to tumble over itself. “I’ll be right back.”
It took about two minutes for him to return with Danika. During that time, I’d convinced myself that Zayne had been waylaid by his father and forced to spill the truth. The sick sense of dread was like rotten food in my tummy.
Zayne stepped in, closing the door quietly behind Danika. She carried a small bag that looked like a sewing kit. Oh God. They were so going to sew my skin. I turned wild eyes on Zayne.
He sat beside me, drawing my wide stare. “I’ve told her everything.”
“I’m not going to say anything,” she said, placing the bag beside me and immediately starting to rummage through it. “Just that I’m glad you’re sitting here and Bambi got a good meal in.”
I gaped at her.
She shrugged one elegant shoulder. “I don’t like judgy people or judgy Wardens and if it was Tomas, then he’d be the kind to be judgy.”
“Y-you knew him?”
Nodding, she turned to my arm and made a clucking sound. “This was definitely iron,” she said to Zayne. “See how the edges are kind of burned?”
My skin was burned?
“Even if she had shifted, this wouldn’t heal. She’ll be fine once she’s stitched up,” she went on, and I saw something out of the corner of my eye that looked like thread. “If she was a full-blooded demon...”
“She’s not,” Zayne said, and I almost laughed at the needless reminder.
“I know,” she replied quietly. “I can understand why you don’t want Abbot to know. You must’ve been so scared.”
I couldn’t look at Danika and I wasn’t sure what to do with her sympathy at that moment. I knew she was threading a needle and I was about to lose my shit, but then she picked up a jar.
“This is a mixture of camphor and Spilanthes. It will help numb the skin, okay?”
Clenching my teeth, I nodded.
Danika spread some minty-smelling gunk all over my arm. I jerked a little when it stung, but within seconds, the mixture turned cold, seeping beyond the skin and into the muscle. Placing the jar back in the bag, she picked up her instruments of unimaginable pain and she looked up. Her striking face—perfect high cheekbones, straight pert nose and full lips—was leached of all color.
That wasn’t very reassuring.
“This is still going to hurt,” she said quietly to Zayne. “You should probably...um, hold her in place.”
I gulped.
Zayne wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me down onto my side and he curled up, throwing his leg over mine. My eyes widened and for a moment I was too stunned by how close he was to me. Roth and I had lain like this after...
He moved one hand to the back of my head, guiding my face to his chest, and wrapped his other around the hand attached to my injured arm. “I can feel your heart pounding,” he said, his voice muffled in my hair. “Try to take a couple of deep breaths.”
My heart felt as if it was going to come out of my chest, a mixture of our closeness and the jolt of fear that came with the touch of Danika’s cool fingers.
“I’ll make this quick,” she promised. “It will literally only take a couple of seconds.”
Closing my eyes, I took several deep breaths. “Okay. I can do this. I can deal.”
“You can.” Zayne’s cheek slid over the side of my head. “You’re so strong, Layla. You can do this.”
I