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20
Poison, Dude
IT HAPPENED IN AN INSTANT.
Eros raised his crossbow, then he was gone and so was Phillip. I didn’t see where either had disappeared off to. Without my extra enhanced vision, I missed everything. Instead, someone was in front of me, breaking down the magical binding.
“Hey there, love,” Sloan addressed me affectionately, catching me when my legs gave out and I almost collapsed.
Even at times like these, he’s still quite literally the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.
Sloan gently and carefully laid me out over the floor, taking special care of my chest and head. “Try not to move too much, okay?”
Is he glowing? An angel?
It was honestly the kindest any other Hunter had been to me, and I wanted to cry. I blamed my pain for the tears, but it was really Sloan’s careful kindness that made me sniffle unattractively. Very few people in my life offered me that sort of kindness, and I was grateful Sloan was there.
Torture reached my lungs and I groaned, the shift of the arrow excruciating. “Moving isn’t the problem,” I gasped.
Kris was instantly on my left, knelt down and carefully inspecting my wound. Smiling kindly, the gorgeous woman touched my cheek. In her usual attire, Kris’s vibrant purple hair fell in ringlets around her face. The sun hit her features and brought instant luminosity to them.
Another angel?
I was delusional. Blood loss and pain made me delusional.
She broke the back of the arrow before I realized anything had happened and yanked it from my body. I hissed a quick curse and arched in reaction, unfortunately unable to hide my distress. A thick cloth was pressed to the swell of blood on my chest, and the two Hunters worked quickly to identify what solvents I’d require in order to heal.
“The arrow’s body was too thick and the lung is fully collapsed,” Kris remarked, face giving away her concern. “We’ll need to act fast so she can breathe better.”
That didn’t sound great. Nope, it sounded like more pain.
Kris offered me an apologetic glance before tossing a few vials of liquid onto the open gash. Swallowing another cry, I clutched feebly at the grass beneath my hands. The gorgeous purple-haired Hunter took out a long syringe, and if I hadn’t been so focused on where it was going, I may have asked why she had it on her. She stabbed it along my side, between my ribs, and I couldn’t stifle the scream leaving my mouth.
Kris and Sloan worked together to keep me still.
Tears slipped down my cheeks, unbidden, and the stunning male Hunter brushed his fingers across my face in quiet apology. After a long, empathetic pause, Sloan took hold of my hand and gently squeezed. Tears burned thick pathways down my cheeks, but I nodded to let him know I was okay. I mean, as okay as someone could be when being stabbed right into the chest.
Holy shit that hurts.
“Just a second, V. You’re doing great,” Kris murmured softly, working carefully to remove the air collected inside my chest wall. “Nearly done.”
Seconds felt like forever in this case, but I worked hard to keep still for her. I fought away every scream and tremble. I was a Hunter. I was a badass female prodigy—or so Grams always said—and no amount of pain or injury would change that.
