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"Can you move your arm?" I asked. If he couldn't move it, that would be a sign of torn tendons and way beyond my level of first aid expertise.
If anything, his face had become even paler during these few seconds in the shack. The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off. He looked about ready to collapse.
"I'll try," he said in a weak voice. Raising his arm, he gasped in pain. His eyes rolled up into his head and he fell backwards, sprawling across the mattress.
He looked so harmless, passed out on the bed. Not like the warrior demon that I'd witnessed in the woods. From this vantage point, I could see the smile lines around his mouth and his eyes. There was a softness to his lips that made me forget about the sword he'd wielded. Thick brown eyelashes rimmed his eyes, the kind a million girls would kill for. It was easy to forget he was dangerous.
"Okay, I guess we'll be doing this the hard way," I mumbled to myself.
If Gabe was going to be here for a while, I'd better take precautions to protect myself. There was a pile of rope in the corner of the shack which I'd used to lift supplies to the roof when I had to patch a hole. It was strong stuff - strong enough to keep a warrior demon tied down and harmless. I grabbed it and approached the bed, careful not to make too much noise.
Gabe still lay in the same position, his lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily in and out. I crawled on the bed next to him, moving slowly. He didn't stir as I wrapped the rope around his first wrist, tying it like Granny had taught me a few summers ago when I helped her haul some dead branches from the backyard and into an open trailer. She'd showed me how to tie the rope tight so the branches wouldn't fly out.
I left Gabe just enough slack to move around a little bit, but not enough to reach the other wrist, and went to tie the second arm. When I tried to get off the bed, my foot slipped and I almost fell on top of him, catching myself at the last instant with a hand on the bed. In all the commotion, his eyelids fluttered open and he gazed at me through glossy eyes.
"It's okay, go back to sleep," I said. If he realized I was tying him down, it might not end so well for me. I gave him the calmest smile I could muster. "I'm just going to check your wounds."
His eyes tightened with suspicion, the tension in his jaw back. I thought about the sliver knife still in my back pocket. If he made a move, I'd grab it and get out of here. Hopefully before he could use his super speed to snap my neck.
A full ten seconds passed before his eyelids drooped again and he went back to sleep, the stiffness in his face melting away. I b
reathed a sigh of relief and then rushed to get his other wrist tied up. The sooner I had him where I wanted him, the better. He couldn't hurt me if he was attached to the headboard. I'd let him go as soon as I was certain neither of us would die when I did.
With his hands safety tied, the only thing left to do was look over the rest of his injuries. The black eyed demons had clawed at him, tearing his t-shirt and leaving bloody trails on his skin. The t-shirt was practically ruined anyway, so I took the silver dagger from my pocket and tore it off him, exposing his sculpted chest and flat stomach.
Six claw marks marred his torso. I ran my fingers over them, the flesh hot around the wounds. Even with the blood and scars, I couldn't help myself from enjoying the sight of his strong arms and the rippling muscles of his abdomen. I wanted to touch them, to see if they were as strong as they looked, but I pulled my hand back.
Look, don’t touch, I told myself with a mental slap on the hand.
My eyes trailed down to his lower abdomen. His chest was bare but for a thin trail of dark hair which started at his belly button and disappeared under the waist of his jeans. I shook my head and forced myself to look at something else. A black tattoo on his chest captured my attention. It was simple, but made from weird symbols that I didn't recognize. I wouldn't be surprised if it was the mark of his demon clan.
The claw marks didn't look too bad, but they all needed to be cleaned. I left Gabe to rummage through a small wooden cupboard built into the wall of the shack. When I first cleaned it out, I'd found a box of old shotgun shells and a couple of tuna tins tucked away in there. Now, it held some snacks, a pile of towels, and a couple bottles of alcohol swiped from Granny's liquor cabinet.
I wasn't a big drinker, but the idea of having a hidden stash of liquor out in the woods had once sounded exciting to me, especially when I was nineteen and too young to drink. Now, it just sounded stupid. But, I was thankful for my brief rebel period as I pulled out a cheap bottle of vodka and a couple of the towels. If I cleaned the wounds with the alcohol, hopefully he'd avoid infection. It was the least I could do to help him.
Opening the bottle, I grabbed a seat next to Gabe. He was sleeping so peacefully, I hated to disturb him. But I'd been in the forest too long already. I needed to get this over with and head back to town before Granny began to suspect anything.
"Okay, handsome. This might sting. Don't hate me."
I poured the vodka on the smallest claw mark first, hoping to avoid causing too much pain. His eyelids twitched, but he didn't wake. I worked my way up his torso, mopping at the bloody marks with the towel and cleaning each of them the best I could. By the time I made it to his shoulder wound, most of the blood was cleaned up and he looked suddenly less intimidating.
"Last one, I promise." I wasn't sure why I was talking to the demon, but I guess it made me feel more comfortable acting like he was just another human.
Pouring the vodka onto his shoulder, I expected the same results from the previous wounds I'd cleaned. But this time, he hissed and flailed, knocking the bottle out of my hand and sending it flying beneath the bed. Before I could grab the knife from my pocket, he snatched my wrist and twisted it painfully.
"Don't..." I cried.
My arm came close to snapping under the inhuman strength of his hand. He opened his eyes and fixed me with a glare. All I could think about was the knife in my pocket, and how close I was to reaching it.
"Please let me go," I told him while I slowly reached behind me with my left arm to grab the knife. "I just wanted to help."
To my surprise, he blinked at me and dropped my arm before I could wrap my fingers around the hilt of the dagger. We stared at each other in that moment. I wasn't sure what he was thinking. Confusion and surprise flashed across his face, mixed in with the pain still etched on his forehead. His eyes studied my face, moving from my eyes to the rest of my face and then lingering on my mouth. I turned away when his attention started to make me nervous.
"I'm going to leave you here tonight," I said, staring at the dirt floor of the shack. "You should be safe. I'll be back tomorrow."
He didn't answer, so I looked up. Those striking green eyes were already closed and his breathing heavy with sleep. I backed away slowly, my hand never leaving the dagger in my pocket. Slipping out the door, I locked it shut and then made a run for town.
My head screamed at me the whole way. What I was doing was beyond insane. It was dangerous, stupid, and not only would it get me killed, but Granny would never let me go to school if she found out. The only smart thing to do was never go back.
