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I needed to fix her.
“Please,” I said quietly, struggling to speak. It didn’t escape my notice that blood was openly spilling from Adora’s shoulder. She had to be in a great deal of pain, but her face didn’t show it. Fierce and determined, she kept her dark-blue eyes locked on me.
From the other side of the truck, Markus let out a muffled yell. “I’m trying to help her!”
Adora studied me intently, then exhaled. “Fine, but I’m not leaving her. Nova is in the back. She’s going to need help being moved. When Danni is injured, so is Nova, and vice versa. Markus had to lift her into the truck on his own after we were shot.” She swallowed. Hate shone in her eyes. “Fucking Mathis.”
“On it,” Ysa snapped as she ran around to the back to get Nova. I reached into the cab and lifted Dannika off her sister’s lap as gently as I could manage. Having her in my arms felt so right. But the condition she was in was so wrong. I didn’t like the ashen color in her face, or the faint beat of her heart.
I carried her toward the portal, only pausing for a moment when Kieran asked, “What do you want done with him?”
I glanced over to see him pinning a half-shifted Markus beneath his body—a blade pressed to the shifter’s neck. My immediate instinct was to kill him and be done with it. Somehow, he must have played a part in this. Led her into this. But he’d been driving the truck. Adora was with them.
There was more going on here than I knew or had time to figure out.
“He helped us,” Adora said, albeit grudgingly. “His shithead dad is the one who shot her. Markus got us out of there and was driving us back to Blood and Beryl.”
My arms tightened around Danni. Rage licked along my veins, igniting me with fire and hatred.
Mathis had taken Claudette from me.
He would not take Danni too.
I nodded once. “Let him up and help Ysa with Nova.”
My foot was already halfway through the portal. The clock was ticking.
I crossed to the other side, appearing back on the estate. Guards surrounded the portal. Bianca stood off to the side in sleep shorts and a T-shirt, as if she’d come directly from bed. “Get me a doctor. Now.”
I looked at her as I passed, but my words were for everyone. I didn’t care who got me a doctor first. I wasn’t asking. My feet carried me down the hall with a speed only a true master vampire would be able to match. Pulse racing, anxiety and fear nipping at my heels, I brought her back to our room, still littered with broken glass and food and all the other remnants of her hurt.
Because of me.
It didn’t matter. Not right now.
I placed her on the bed, then lifted either side of her shirt and tore it down the middle, needing to assess the damage. I may not have been a doctor, but I knew a life-threatening injury when I saw one.
There wasn’t one wound, but two. One had hit dead center below her sternum. The second, to the lower right side of her stomach. Dread seeped in like poison. Doubt. Despair.
Behind me, our on-staff doctor came running in. “I heard you need a doc?—”
“Fix her.”
I stepped to the side, letting him do his job, but I didn’t go far. My eye didn’t leave her as I moved to the foot of the bed. Even as Ysa and Kieran came in carrying Nova’s limp body. Even as they placed her on the other side of Dannika. Even as Adora followed, along with several other nurses and doctors.
“Please, miss, we need to sew your shoulder?—”
“You can sew it after I find out what’s happening to my sister,” Adora barked.
“My king,” a nurse gasped, seeing the bloody cloth over my eye. “We need to?—”
“Focus on Dannika,” I growled.
Several healers stood around Danni, their hands hovering over her body. Their palms emitted a faint glow, shimmering around their fingers as they focused on her abdomen. Light was forced into her gunshot wounds, but it did nothing. They pushed further, more magic. More power. Sweat dotted their brows. One looked up, her sad eyes meeting another’s gaze across from her. A pink-haired healer shook her head lightly. My hands clenched around the footboard, where I was leaned over. The wood snapped. I tossed it aside.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?” I demanded.
The doctor stood between the healers, using his magic to assess her wounds. “Your Majesty . . . My king?—”
