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Rix snorted in mirth in front of me as he pushed the bedroom door open.
“You—and them—will die if you get an infection,” she went on. “A full vial will quadruple your white blood cell count in less than an hour and fight infection and heal you. It makes sense. Don’t be so stubborn and dense.” Her hands were on her shapely hips as she glared down at the bullheaded man in the bed.
Zane’s nostrils flared wildly. His face was a mottled red, and a sheen of sweat glittered on his forehead. But even I had to admit that he looked considerably better from when we’d left him in the bedroom not too long ago. His face had color; his eyes were brighter.
Even he knew he needed the vial. He was just being an obstinate ass not taking it.
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he said, shaking his head against the pillow as his slate-gray eyes landed on me and Rix near the foot of the bed, beseeching us to take his side.
“Sorry, Zane,” I said with a shoulder lift. “We all agreed that you needed the full dose. Angel was just very brave giving it to you alone.”
Haina craned her neck around and shot me a look, her lips tipped up on one side in amusement. She turned back to Zane. “I came in here to check on him since I could sense that his heart rate was getting slower—alarmingly so—so I gave him the vial. I could smell infection forming and see the veiny lines around the bullet hole that indicates a blood infection.” She glared at Zane. “Which can be fatal. Youdoknow that they put poison on their bullets, right? Or at least that’s what Moord told me.”
That’s right. I’d forgotten about the poison-tipped bullets and arrows. It made sense that Zane had taken a poison-soaked bullet if he was already experiencing a blood infection just hours after being shot.
Though that seemed to contradict our notion that those after us wanted us alive.
Who the fuck knew anything anymore? We’d all been told so many different things, nearly all of them probably lies, that it was impossible to know what to believe.
The reminder of a poison-tipped bullet didn’t seem to change Zane’s opinion, and my older brother glowered back at the angel who saved his life.
Gnashing her teeth, she whipped back the blanket to expose his abdomen and pointed to where the bullet wound was. The skin around it was a healthy peachy color, and I couldn’t smell any infection. “It’s working!” She pointed to his stomach.
Zane’s head shook tightly. “No idea what you’ve done.”
“I’m pretty sure I do,” she said snidely. “Which was save your life—again. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Rix stifled his laugh by covering his mouth with his hand. I elbowed him but couldn’t deny the wash of pride that filled me at just how strong Haina was and how, despite the constant distrust Zane showed her, how he treated her, she still showed him compassion. Albeit compassion laden with a heavy hand of sarcasm and snark.
It amazed me every day how much spark she still had burning inside of her, even after being raised in the compound—a veritable cage—her entire life.
Rolling her eyes, she stowed the empty syringe and bottle back in the canvas pouch it came in. “I’m going to go boil some water to clean you up, Captain Grumpy Penis. You’re covered in dried blood and puss, and you stink.” Then before Zane could lob any more insults or glares at her, she turned her back on him and left the room.
Rix and I stepped farther into the room. It didn’t matter whether or not we closed the door, Haina’s enhanced hearing would let her eavesdrop on us if she wanted to, door or no door.
“You’re an idiot and an asshole,” I said, fixing ourfearless leaderwith a look of irritation. “She’s done nothing to warrant your distrust or your ire. And you know as well as we do that had she not pushed that entire vial into your veins, you—and then us—would have all fucking died.”
He shook his head. “Just needed a third. I’d be fine.”
I rolled my eyes, and I was pretty sure Rix rolled his.
“Get over yourself, bro,” Rix said. “The detox is inevitable. But I’d rather go through it than not get the chance because I’m dead because you fucking died.”
“Rest, heal and be fucking nice,” I said. “I’m in charge while you’re playing patient. No arguments, or I’ll hogtie and gag your ass to the bow like a siren on the front of those old pirate ships we read about.”
“We have a boat to fix. So play nice with Cat,” Rix said. “She doesn’t deserve your wrath.” He turned and left the room. His and Haina’s murmurs echoed quietly through the cabin a few moments later.
I leaned down and got right into Zane’s face, then I placed two fingers on top of the bandage covering his bullet hole. I pressed, not too hard but hard enough that his eyes bugged out from the pain and I could hear his molars grinding. “She’s part of this team now. So I suggest you make peace with that. Rix and I have fallen for her, and when all of this is over, we’re not walking away from her. We’re willing to share her, but she has to be willing to be shared—with you. Take this time to sort yourself out and make some hard choices, because we’re out of vials, so if you get hurt again—we all die.” Then I pushed on his wound just a little harder until his nostrils flared and he made a noise of intense pain in the back of his throat.
Zane’s eyes never left mine, though.
After a moment, I pulled my fingers away, smiled grimly, and left the room, leaving my brother, our leader, and all of his secrets quietly moaning in the bed.
