Page 87 of Blood of Vengeance

Guilt sucked the wind out of me, making any sort of argument I might have had die inside me. She had been in a hurry because of me. Because I had needed her. Because she had known I was in trouble and refused to allow me to suffer alone.

Flinch laid a hand on my leg as if to ease me, but all his touch did was make me angrier. At myself, at him, at Zella’s illness. Hell, at my dad for not figuring out how to escape a vampire. My guilt may have withered, but my anger grew strong and tall. I pulled away from his touch.

“Well,” the doctor said, still typing on the tablet even as she moved closer to where Zella lay. “Let’s see what we can do here.”

The doctor moved in to give Zella a quick once-over, checking her heart rate and breathing before having Zella perform a few simple mobility tests as best she could. Zella’s pain made it difficult on her to move around much, but luckily, Cutter was able to step in and assist as needed—lifting, supporting, easing her body back down. He made sure she didn’t exert a single extra drop of effort.

It was when the doctor saw the burn on Zella’s wrist that I knew things were about to go sideways.

“What happened here?”

Zella looked my way, eyes wide and expression giving away too much, before pasting on a subtle smile that did nothing to hide her nervousness. “We were working on some jewelry pieces and got stupid. Hot metal is hot.”

The doctor did not look convinced, though I couldn’t blame her. The perfect circle of burned flesh around Zella’s wrist—the one that turned the skin maroon halfway down her palms and matched mine—was definitely not the norm. And a hot bracelet wouldn’t have made it look as if we were wearing red fingerless gloves, the color an ombre of damage to our skin that started at the wrist. But what could we say? A demon had marked us to keep a vampire away? That would go over well.

“And you?” the doctor asked, looking my way. Intentionally eyeing the mark on my own wrist. “Working with metal?”

“Yeah,” I said, fighting to keep my expression as flat and neutral as possible. “It really was hotter than we expected.”

The doctor nodded, looking completely unconvinced. “Let me work with the pharmacy to see what we can do about your pain. Meanwhile, I’m going to order some burn ointment for the two of you.” She nodded to Zella. “I’ll take care of your friend first.”

“Oh no.” I waved her off. “I’m good. I don’t?—”

“It’ll take a few for the pharmacy to release anything strong enough for your friend. Let me make sure that burn won’t get infected.”

Which likely meant “let me get you alone to ask you questions in case I need to call the police.” I sighed and rose to my feet, ignoring the low growl Flinch released. I had gotten good at ignoring him over the last few hours.

The doctor took me to an exam room down the hall, closing the door behind us before offering me a seat. She settled in across from me after grabbing something from a cart she had to type a code into to open up, looking serious and concerned.

“We can get you help,” she said as she put on a glove, keeping her eyes averted from mine. She opened a small tub of something white and creamy-looking, slipping a gloved finger inside before reaching for my hands. “We can get you away from these men if they’re hurting you.”

It took me a full ten seconds to react, the last week playing out behind my eyes. The good, the bad, the fantastic, the terrifying.

Good lord, I had only known Flinch for a week.

And I knew—deep down—that I didn’t need anyone protecting me from him.

I laughed, the sound not joyous but sarcastic. My anger bubbling up right along with my grief and sadness. “No offense, Doc, but the men with us are the least of our problems. We don’t need help getting away from them. We need Zella to function with as little pain as possible.”

She finished rubbing the salve into my damaged skin and nodded. “Okay. I couldn’t let you two walk out of here without at least offering.”

“Don’t lose sleep over it—just because they’re bikers doesn’t mean they would hurt us.” Because they wouldn’t. No way, no how. Not intentionally. “They’d die to protect us, to be honest.”

And they would. Flinch would die and kill to protect me. Had fought vampires for me. Had slaughtered them. I knew I was safe with him, and yet I still couldn’t stand to look at him. Not after finding out what he’d done. What he had neglected to tell me.

But I didn’t have time to deal with that. I needed Zella better.

The doctor and I made the trek back to Zella’s room, neither of us talking along the way. She did type a lot on her tablet, though, so hopefully she had done something to get the medicine Zella needed. Once back in the room, she grabbed a new pair of gloves and her little tub of burn ointment before heading for the bed.

“Let’s start with the wrist while we wait for your pain medicine, okay?”

Zella nodded, glancing my way. “You good?”

Always looking out for me first. “Of course. How about you?”

“I’d be great if someone could just yank my spine out and give me a new one.”

“How long have you had autoimmune issues?” the doctor asked, focusing on Zella’s wrist. Zella glanced up at Flinch, then me, eyes hard and emotionless. Lips pressed together in a tight line. Cutter stood at the head of her bed so there was no way she could look at him, but her message was clear. She did not want to have this conversation with the guys in the room.

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