Page 67 of Kingdom of Chaos
“It’s my lower abdomen at least. That’s good.”
“How is that good?” My voice comes out high and tight with panic. Even as I watch, blood leaks in a steady flow from the twin wounds.
He shrugs. “Less important stuff down there. There’s a better chance an organ didn’t get hit.”
I drag my gaze from his wounds back to his face, certain the panic on mine is impossible to miss.
“Do you think it hit an organ? Could you be bleeding internally?”
I take him in from head-to-toe and back up again. Is he paler than he was a few minutes ago?
Another shrug. “Maybe.”
Pulling a water bottle out of his bag, he splashes water on the wound and then tries to mop up the blood the best he can with a piece of cloth. Then he reaches over, grabs a roll of heavy-duty silver tape, pulls out a strip, and tears it off with his teeth.
“How are you not freaking out right now?” I ask, as he pinches the torn skin together and presses a strip of duct tape over it like it’s no big deal. “You could beslowly dying!”
Talon chuckles and shakes his head like I said something funny. This isnotfunny. He has holes in him, and all he has to help fix them is a roll of tape and a piece of cloth.
This is serious.
He twists to the side, trying to reach the exit wound, but he’s clearly struggling to get the right angle. I reach forward, snatch the rag from his hand, and step behind him.
The hole on his back is a little larger than the one in front. I’m relieved he can’t see how badly my hands are shaking as I do my best to clean away the blood so the tape will stick.
Still, he doesn’t need to see my face to know what I’m feeling. He reads the silence like I’ve spoken my fears out loud.
“It’s okay, Freckles,” he says, and despite the gruesome sight in front of me, a trickle of warmth runs down my spine at the use of my nickname. “I’m pretty hard to kill.”
I want to believe him, but there’s a lot of blood.
“Just ask Imogen,” he says with a chuckle. “She tried to take me out at least twice when we were growing up.”
Even though his tone is light, I can’t tell if he’s actually joking. The thought of that infuriating vampire hurting him makes my fists clench with anger. I force myself to breathe, to focus, and finish cleaning the wound as best I can.
I hold out my hand, waiting for Talon to pass me the silver tape.
“If it was really bad, I’d already be dead,” he says quietly, all traces of humor gone.
I sigh. “You could be half dead and still tell me you’re all right.”
It was the truth, and that scared me to my core. Talon was reckless at the best of times, and never admitted when he needed help. I didn’t know if that was pride, or something else.
After pouring water on the wound and cleaning the blood away, I do my best to pinch the skin together before taping over the hole, but it’s immediately clear the wound is too big for that.
“Do you have anything I can pack this with before I tape it?”
He rummages in his pack again, pulls out some sterile gauze and hands it to me. I gesture for him to turn back around, but he lifts a hand toward my face, and for a second I think he’s going to cup my cheek. Then he realizes his hands are covered with blood and drops it again.
“Are you okay? You look a little pale,” he asks, his brow pinched with concern.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, not sure if I actually am. “Turn around.”
This time he obeys, and after packing some of the sterile gauze in the wound, I put several long strips of tape over it, praying that it will be good enough until his natural healing kicks in.
We clean our hands as best we can with the remaining water, then Talon throws on a clean T-shirt. Both this one and the old one are dark enough to hide bloodstains.
When we go back to the truck I offer to drive, because Talon is definitely paler now. He doesn’t put up a fight.
