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Sierra shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. It’s just like removing a splinter. I’d do it myself, but I don’t think I’ll be able to reach.” I caught her fingers in mine. “Look at me, baby girl. You can do this. I trust you.”
I was wrong about the hurting like hell part. Sierra digging around in my side didn’t feel like anything I’d experienced while in Hell. It was worse.
I locked my jaw and focused on breathing through my nose. I refused to make a sound. It wasn’t just about protecting her from my pain. I couldn’t let her question if she’d done the right thing by staying out of the fight when I asked her to. I would take a hundred hours of this pain over watching Sierra go through a second of it.
“I think I got it.” She yanked, and I felt the claw slide free, scratching my insides on its way out in one last parting shot.
I kept completely still for several seconds before letting out a breath of relief. I could already feel my body starting to heal. By morning I’d be good as new.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Nate?” There was still worry in her tone.
I braced my hand on the floor and pushed up into a sitting position, swallowing a groan. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t exactly look fine.”
“I will be before you know it. Areyouokay?” I reached up and brushed her hair back behind her ear, letting my fingers linger longer than I should’ve.
She let out a weak laugh. “You’re worried about me right now?”
“You’re the only thing I’m worried about. You know I’m going to ask you not to leave for another week, right?”
That got me a smile, a small one, but it was there. “You know I’m going to tell you no.”
“The weekend?”
“I’ll promise you tomorrow.”
“I’ll take what I can get.” I shoved to my feet, wincing as my side protested the movement. “Come on. We should go clean up.”
In the bathroom, I let Sierra tape bandages over my already-healing wound.
“Sit,” I ordered her when she was finished. I took the towel she’d used to clean me up and washed it clean of my blood before running it over her hands and up her arms. Her eyes followed my movement, watching me scrub the golden liquid from her skin.
“I can—”
“Shh. Let me do this for you.” It was partially an excuse to be close to her, touching her. I didn’t want to stop touching her. If my hands were on her body, feeling the warmth of her skin, I could believe that she was okay. That Dantalion wouldn’t touch her.
I finished cleaning her off in silence. The quiet continued as we returned to the living room to pick up our dinner dishes and clean my blood out of the carpet.
“I don’t want to let you out of my sight,” I whispered as I watched her load the blood-soaked towels into the washing machine.
She looked up at me. “That demon knew you.”
I nodded.
“How?”
“I’ve been to Hell a few times before.” It wasn’t the whole story, not even remotely close, but it was as much as I was willing to share at the moment.
“Is he the one who’s been sending demons after me?”
I nodded again.
“When you told me Hell was going to seek revenge, I was picturing the Devil coming after me?” She made the words into a question at the end.
