Page 36 of The Death Dealer

“Yes. Lie down,” he ordered. With one last scan of the horizon, Trevor covered her wound with his hands.

Soleil cried out, and in her pain, she lost the ability to maintain her protective shield. “Trev!”

“It’s okay, babe.” He never lost concentration and continued to knit her bone. “Draven and Fintan are keeping watch, and I can see Stockton’s men already scouring the beach.”

Sweat beaded his brow, and it was the only indication of how hard he struggled to heal her.

“I thought this was your thing. You act like it’s hard work or something,” she joked weakly.

“I expended a lot of energy to help Lily.”

Soleil placed a hand on his wrist. “Is this something someone else can do? Should we call Damian?” When Trevor turned his fierce glare on her, she dropped her arm. “I’ll take that as a no,” she muttered.

“I can fucking heal a shattered humerus, Soleil,” he snapped.

“Shattered—oh!” Thinking what that bullet would’ve done to her heart had she not moved, she felt faint again.

“I won’t think less of you if you pass out,” Trevor said. “I can’t guarantee I won’t take advantage and sneak a peek at your tits, though.”

His teasing brought her back from the darkness, and she sputtered a laugh. “You say the nicest things.”

He grinned, and Soleil savored the gorgeous sight.

“Thank you, Trevor,” she said softly.

“You don’t have to?—”

“I do. Not just for healing my arm but for charging to my rescue.”

Turning his too-intense gaze to her, he opened his mouth to speak, but before the words could be uttered, the Guardian and Seer rushed up.

“No sign of the fecker,” Fintan said with a disgusted shake of his head.

“How are ya feelin’,cher?” Draven asked.

“Not great,” she admitted, hissing a breath in as Trevor manipulated the muscles around.

Bending on one knee, Draven touched a finger to her forehead. A sensation similar to euphoria flowed through her, dulling the pain. Giddy, she giggled.

“That might’ve been too much with all her blood loss,” Trevor remarked. “She’s drunk on the magic.”

“Sure, and there’s worse things to be,” Fintan replied with a twinkle in his eye. “There’s nothing so grand as a prettycailínlaughin’.”

Soleil sighed and smiled up at him. “I’m not at all sure what you just said, Mr. Sullivan, but I could listen to you talk all day and never get tired of it.”

For the first time since she’d met him, she witnessed Fintan grin. “Maybe I’ll be entertainin’ ya with me stories while you’re abed, yeah?”

“Not likely,” Trevor growled as he rose with her in his arms.

He staggered, but when Draven reached for her, Trevor cut him off with a shake of his head. “Back off.”

“You’re weak from all the healin’,mon ami. Let someone help you for a change.”

Soleil, equalling out from the magical infusion and seeing the wisdom in the Guardian’s words, cupped Trevor’s jaw. She waited until he met her gaze before speaking.

“No one is questioning your strength, Trevor. But you said it yourself. You’ve expended a lot of energy to heal Lily and now me. Please let someone help you.”

Seconds ticked by, and sweat trickled from his brow. Right when Soleil thought he might dig in, he closed his eyes and nodded.

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