Page 83 of Bound By Blood
“I will.”
Caro pulled up infront of her home and parked the car. His tone said he didn’t wishto discuss this anymore, and neither did she.
He’d repeatedlymade it clear he wouldn’t get close to anyone. She shouldn’t bothertrying to open him up when it would only lead to morefrustration.
Opening her door,she exited the car and emerged into the night. A couple ofbrave-hearted crickets remained aboveground to chirrup, but theywere the only sounds out there. Most critters were either prowlingdeep in the woods or asleep.
When Saber openedhis door, she watched him rise from the car. He climbedeffortlessly to his feet but didn’t fool her.
He tried hiding itwhen he got out of the car to search for a tracking device, but hecouldn’t completely conceal the stiffness in his gait. He alsoleaned to the left like he was trying to ease the pressure on hisright side.
She walked aroundthe car to stand beside him. She resisted her instinct to grasp hisarm and help him into the house; it would only annoy him.
“Let’s get youinside and cleaned up,” she said.
“I don’t needhelp.”
She almost pokedhim in his injured side but reconsidered. If she poked him, he’dreveal how much it bothered him, which would only irritate himmore. Earlier, she would have found doing such a thing amusing, butshe wasn’t mad enough at him anymore to be that mean.
Ignoring him, sheturned on her heel and headed for the front door instead of goingto her apartment. She opened the door and held it open as he strodetoward her. His limp was nearly imperceptible but still there.
Saber ignored thetwinge in his side each step created as he carried his sword towardthe back door. Illuminated by the light beside the door, Carocouldn’t hide the concern in her striking eyes or the determinedset of her delicate chin.
He wasn’t going toeasily rid himself of her tonight; the weird thing was, he didn’tknow if he wanted to. The ridiculous notion only irritated him, andhe glared at her as he stalked up the stairs. The exasperating,delicious-smelling woman smiled sweetly in return.
CHAPTER 65
“I’ll gathersupplies to clean your wound,” Caro said as he moved past her andinto the house.
“I’m fine.”
“Stop being such astubborn ass; if anything, you need blood to help you heal. I’vebeen smelling yours for hours now.” The scent of it was nearly asenticing as the man himself, but she would never tell him that.“You’re in no condition to hunt. There are blood bags in thefridge.”
Saliva filledSaber’s mouth at the idea of blood, and she was right; he was in nocondition to hunt. The demon who fed from him earlier had latchedon for too long; it had taken a lot of his blood, and he’d spilledmore over the past few hours.
To heal soon, herequired blood and a lot of it. Right now, he couldn’t catch asquirrel, let alone a deer, which would help replenish his loss alot faster.
Deciding she wasright, he turned and headed for the kitchen. “You don’t have tostay.”
“I’m quite awareof what I do and donothave to do,” she retorted.
She followed himthrough the darkened dining room. At some point, he’d picked up thefurniture she tossed during their fight and placed it back. He musthave fixed the broken chair as it stood in its normal place.
She broke awaywhen they entered the kitchen and strode toward the fridge. “Sit,”she commanded. “I’ll get the blood.”
Unwilling to arguewith the bossy minx, Saber bit back a groan as he sank onto one ofthe chairs. He hated the idea of anyone helping him, but he was tootired to argue with her and too ravenous to turn down herassistance.
Caro removed ablood bag from the fridge and a mug from where they hung on hooksbeneath the white cabinets. Her father had meticulously carvedthose cabinets, and her mother spent hours painting them. Absently,she stroked the wood before removing the scissors from the knifebutcher-block holder.
She opened the bagand poured its contents into a mug, reading:I know I swear alot. 1. I’m sorry. 2. I’ll watch my mouth. 3. 1 & 2 are lies.4. Fuck off.
She smiled as sherecalled giving it to her dad for Father’s Day. It fit himperfectly. With a trembling hand that she forcibly steadied, sheplaced the mug in the microwave and hit the button.
“Did my sword passyour test?” she asked as the microwave hummed and the glass plateclattered while it spun.
Saber settled thesword across his knees and pulled it free of its scabbard toexamine the masterpiece she had created. Blood stained the gleamingmetal, but not a single nick marred the perfection of the blade.The black stone also remained undamaged.
“It’s perfect,” hesaid.
