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"Here," I croaked.
Her head appeared in my line of sight, but it was fuzzy. Or maybe it was just my eyesight that was fuzzy. Her gaze widened when she saw me, and her face went white.
"Oh god," she said, one hand over her mouth.
"Yeah," I said. "He was using silver bullets. I need you to take it out."
"Two minutes," Jack intoned. "Hang on."
Cass drew in a shuddering breath and said "I can't - "
"You can," I interrupted harshly. "You must."
I put the gun down on the floor. My hand was shaking far too hard now for it to be safe.
She made a distressed sound low in her throat, then took another breath. "I'll get Marla. She's better at - "
"No. You need to do it. Now."
"But I haven't got any tools - "
"You have hands, Cass. Just hook a finger into the wound and dig it out."
"Oh, fuck." But she dropped down beside me and a hand touched my shoulder. Her fingers were shaking almost as much as mine.
Find something to bite down onto, Quinn suggested. It'll help.
I groped for some wood then shoved it in my mouth as she took another deep breath. "Okay."
That was all the warning I got. She plunged her finger into the wound and a scream wrenched its way up my throat. Everything went red and the sweat on my brow became a river.
Cass was crying and shaking, but she didn't stop. Blood spilled from the wound and pain seemed to consume my world. It was all I could do to stay conscious. Heaven help the lot of us if one of those men became aware enough to attack now.
Then the bullet moved. Sideways, not upward. Not out. White-hot fingers of pain rolled through me, and I bit down on the wood so hard splinters drove into my tongue.
Cass swore bitterly and drove her finger a little deeper. The bullet moved again, but this time it came up, making a slight popping sound as it came free of my flesh.
The relief was almost instantaneous. I leaned my head back against the wall for several heartbeats, drawing in great gulps of air, feeling the fire wash away and hoping like hell the numbness did, as well.
"Thank you," I said eventually, and opened my eyes. Her eyes were puffy, her nose pinched and red, and she was as pale as possible for a dark-skinned woman. "You just saved my life."
"And you saved T.J.'s and ours. A fair swap, I think."
"Yeah." I raised a still-shaky hand and wiped the sweat from my eyes. "But I think he shot some of the girls and the man-mountain guarding the stairs."
More tears spilled from her eyes. She scrubbed at them hastily, then spun around at the sound of footsteps, her fear ramping up several notches.
"Riley?" Cole's voice, harsh and urgent.
We were safe.
I could let go.
Once I'd shifted shape to stop the bleeding and heal my broken rib, that's exactly what I did.
W hen I came to, it was to find myself in warm, familiar arms. They were wrapped around me, holding me steady, pressing me against a body that was hard and strong.
"Hmmm," I murmured, snuggling in a bit deeper. "This is how a girl should wake from every nightmare."
