Page 56 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

Vallen clenched his jaw, and Shumei slumped with humility. Her brother had a point.

“It was still a foolhardy decision,” Vallen grumbled, sitting back. “She should avoid that in the future.”

“I know that, but I couldn’t leave without trying.”

Silence pervaded while Oka ate enough apple slices to give himself a bellyache, she was sure.

“We need to change that bandage,” Vallen said eventually.

“I’ll need the mortar and some water,” she said.

“I can make the medicine. You’ll have a hard time crushing the leaves with that injured shoulder,” he pointed out. She nodded silently and handed her bag to him. The all-important, powerful spell book sat on the floor next to her chair, momentarily forgotten.

“What about a needle and thread? Do you have anything like that left?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about the dress. There are more where that one came from,” he said, pulling out a mass of jumbled herbs.

“No, I… I think I need stitches,” she said.

Vallen stilled. “That’ll hurt.”

“It won’t heal properly otherwise. No amount of comfrey will adequately close the wound on its own, even with a tight dressing.”

Vallen frowned as he sorted the plants on the table. “Oka, the cabinet behind you, middle shelf.”

“Shumei,” Oka said softly.

“Please, Oka,” she said. “Then take the rest of the apples and explore the forest out back. Don’t stray too far, though.” He nodded somberly as he stood.

Vallen pulled out the pestle and mortar and began to grind up a couple of carefully chosen leaves. Shumei wasn’t sure why, but she was pleased he’d chosen the right plant. Oka placed the sewing set on the cluttered table, grabbed some apple slices, and disappeared into the trees.

Ten minutes later, Shumei sat naked from the waist up and wiped her tears as Vallen tied off the last stitch in her shoulder—sixteen in all. He washed the area with a clean cloth, then smeared it with the salve before wrapping it tightly with a fresh bandage.

“Stay right there and relax. I’ll be right back,” he said.

She drew the remnants of her dress up to her exposed chest and watched him disappear into the complex’s interior, wondering how he could see where he was going when there was no light in the hallway as far as she could tell. She reached to the plate sitting close at hand, plucked the last apple slice, and bit into it, comforted by its sweetness after her ordeal.

When Vallen returned, she gasped at the beautiful dress in his arms—forest green and embroidered with shimmering gold leaves. The artistry reminded her of the jacket he’d worn two days ago.

“Oh, Vallen,” she effused. Eager to touch it, she held her bloodstained dress in place and stood.

“The stone oak was my family’s symbol,” he revealed. “We revered trees in general, so this estate was partially built with the few trees my father cleared, and it was designed to blend in with the forest.” She nodded in understanding and stroked the soft dress in his arms.

“Let me dress you,” he roughly uttered, stepping close. The emptiness in his eyes was gone. In its place, devotion. He saw her. Really saw her. His lips looked in need of a kiss. They always did, it seemed.

“Please,” she said simply. She released her dress and it fell away, leaving her in only her socks.

“Gods, if only I could have you now,” he rasped, curling his arm around her waist. “I want to make you forget the pain you went through this morning, but I don’t want to tax your stamina right now, not when you need to heal.”

“I know. Perhaps in a few days. Can you last that long?” she asked, referring to his demonic need. Vallen chose to take it the other way, grin full of mischief.

“Even if you promised me your body in an hour, I wouldn’t last that long. You’re too tempting,” he said huskily, caressing her backside. His light touch almost tickled and it made her gasp. “I suppose this could be an opportunity, though. I will teach you enough magic to reverse the Incubus Curse, and while you’re studying, I shall teach Oka sword fighting. Your injury might have saved you several days on your back, my love.”

“Or it may have cruelly denied me the same,” she said. He chuckled against her cheek.

“Your brother may return soon. We had better get you dressed.” He stepped back, tossed a bright gold belt over his shoulder, and held the dress open for her. She slid her arms into the sleeves.

“It’s even softer than the other dress,” she said as he wrapped her up in silk. The gentle caress of the liquid-smooth cloth made her nipples pucker.