Page 25 of Shattered Jewel

Rossi selects a long pair of forceps from his bag.

“This will hurt,” he warns Kaspian, almost as an afterthought before he inserts the instrument into the gory hole in Kaspian’s flesh.

“I’m going to go sit with your mom,” Sasha says, almost sprinting for the door.

Kaspian lifts his head and finds me, the green depths glazed with pain. I step closer, my hand finding his. I keep the shock from my face when his fingers tighten around mine, his grip crushing.

Tempest tightens his hold on Kaspian, biceps flexing as he pins Kaspian against the seatback. I look away, bile rising in my throat, but I can’t block out the wet squelch of metal in meat or Kaspian’s agonized groans.

Rossi makes quick work of the rest, irrigating the wound and stitching it closed with brutal efficiency. Kaspian has gone limp, his head lolling, unconscious from the pain and blood loss.

Maybe the one, the only time, I’ll see him weak.

“He’ll need some recovery time,” Rossi says, stripping off his gloves. He packs up his supplies and rises to his feet. “Keep the wound clean and dry. Change the dressings daily.”

I nod mutely, not trusting myself to speak. Tempest releases his hold on Kaspian and steps back, cracking his neck.

“Kaspian will be out for a while,” Tempest says. “Don’t move him until he wakes.”

“Thank you for your assistance.” The words feel wooden on my tongue. I owe the Vultures a debt for saving Kaspian’s life, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them. I called Tempest because I had no other option, but his reasons for accepting remain a mystery.

Why did they help me?

Rossi gives me a once-over, as if sensing the direction of my thoughts. “He’ll be all right, Elara.”

His quiet assurance makes me want to sob with relief, but I hold myself steady.

“Care to explain what occurred here?” he asks.

“My mother, she’s not well,” I say hoarsely, still clinging to Kaspian’s limp hand. “If you don’t mind, could you take a look at her next?”

Rossi doesn’t move. I grimace, preparing for the word please, until he says, “We know all about your mother’s illness. After a few phone calls, there’s a vacancy for her at the a private psychiatric facility in the city. With your permission, she can be settled there by morning.”

My eyes grow hot, and it hurts to raise them, to meet his black, tarred gaze?—

Until I’m absorbed by the warmth in them. The care.

Is this what the girl he’s with sees? The water under the ice, the promise of life once he thaws?

I manage to respond, “I appreciate your help, truly. But I need some kind of assurance that my mother will be safe and cared for.”

“You have my word,” Rossi says. “That alone is enough.”

The rigid conviction in his tone almost makes me fall to my knees and assure him that I believe him so he doesn’t kill me.

I nod, my throat constricting. Entrusting my mother’s well-being to the Vultures feels like a deal with the devil, but what choice do I have? Involving the police would bring more scandal, more questions, implicating Kaspian and the Court. Involving the Sovereigns.

I crush Kaspian’s hand in my grip. I can’t let that happen.

“We won’t tell anyone about tonight,” Tempest adds a bit reluctantly.

“Why would you help me?”

I shouldn’t ask it, what with looking a gift horse in the mouth, but I can’t confidently let them leave until I hear some sort of reason as to why the Vultures would help a member of the Court. Help me.

Rossi inclines his head. “You’re involved with the Cimmerian Court. I have a particular weakness for women who aren’t afraid of dangerous men and have acquired an insatiable need to protect those who deserve it.” He glances down at my white-knuckled hand on Kaspian’s. “You strike me as one of them.”

“I don’t know how I fell in with them,” I find myself saying, “But as much as I’ve tried, I don’t want to leave them.”

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