Suddenly a conversation meant to distract him from his pain had turned into a chat about my emotional wounds. Time to change the subject. “How about we discuss that after we get your very visible chest wound healed.”
He tipped my chin so I was forced to look in his eyes. “Have I mentioned I’m a huge fan of that bra?”
The corner of my lip twitched. “This old thing?”
The scream of metal crashing into metal ripped a hole in the silence. Keeping one hand pressed to Adam’s chest, I grabbed my gun as I swiveled on my heels. Two headlights sped toward us. I squinted and made out the shape of Giguhl’s horns behind the windshield.
“Looks like the cavalry arrived,” I said.
“Please tell me you’re driving back to the shop. I’d hate to survive a sword attack only to die in a fiery car crash.”
Giguhl slammed on the brakes. The Gremlin fishtailed and sprayed dirt and pebbles at us. I ducked over Adam to protect him from the spray. When I looked up again, Giguhl was jumping out of the car and running around the crunched fender of the Gremlin toward us.
“G, I appreciate you getting the car, but did you really have to crash through the gates?”
The demon skidded to a halt in front of me with his claws on his hips. “Well, excuse me, Miss Perfect. For your information, I’ve never driven a car before.”
My mouth fell open. When I’d ordered him to drive, he’d had no choice but to comply. In my stress of seeing to Adam, I’d totally forgotten Giguhl had never driven a car. “Well, in that case, I’m impressed all you hit was a gate.”
Giguhl’s eyes shifted left. “Actually, we probably need to get moving.”
“Why?”
“It’s better that you don’t know in case the police come calling.”
Deciding I definitely didn’t want to know, I began issuing orders to ensure everyone could fit comfortably in the crowded car. Once Giguhl and Adam were settled— Giguhl back in cat form in the back and Adam riding shotgun— I ran back around to the driver’s side.
Just before I ducked in, a warm breeze whooshed through the avenue. A flash of something in the distance caught my eye. Almost like a lightning bug. I hesitated, hoping to catch a better look at whatever I’d seen.
But the cemetery was still again and silent as a ….. well, you know. The low hum I’d noticed when we’d come in still thrummed in my head, but otherwise, nothing.
“Sabina?” Adam’s voice sounded strained from pain.
I shook off the bizarre feeling and lowered myself into the seat. “Sorry, thought I saw something. But it must have just been my imagination.”
“Ooh,” Giguhl said, “Maybe it was a ghost.”
I laughed. “Don’t be silly. Ghosts don’t exist.”
But just before I slammed the door, I could have sworn I heard the sound of laughter on the breeze.
15
A masculine yell echoed down the hallway, followed by a brusque, feminine, “Quit being such a baby.” I rushed to the door to see what the voodooienne was doing to Adam.
The mage was laid out on Zen’s worktable like a sacrifice. My eyes quickly located the source of his ire: a squirt bottle she used to flush out the wound.
“Should I bother to ask how it’s going?” I asked, stepping up to the table.
Adam’s jaw clenched as Zen sprayed more water. She didn’t answer my question. Instead, she called, “Brooks, I’m still waiting for that yarrow!”
A faint response came from behind the closed door of the closet Zen had turned into a mini-apothecary. He emerged a couple of seconds later juggling a few glass jars and vials. “You’re almost out.” He held out a brown bottle to Zen, who popped the cork and looked inside.
“Should be enough.” She tipped the vial, and a yellowishgreen powder dusted the wound.
“What’s that do?” I asked.
Her impatient gaze swiveled to mine. She shook the brown vial. “Ground yarrow. It acts as a styptic to clot the blood.”
Selecting another bottle, she held it up. “Clove powder to numb pain and prevent infection.” She popped off the top and liberally sprinkled the brown powder on top of the yarrow.
Adam hissed and tried to jerk away.
“Almost done,” Zen said. Brooks handed her a stack of gauze. To me she said, “Make yourself useful and tear off two strips of bandage tape.”
Happy to have something to do with my hands, I did as instructed. I handed Zen the first strip about the same time Giguhl sauntered in. Thankfully, he’d put on clothes— a pair of red sweatpants and a black T-shirt advertising Zen’s store.
“How’s the patient?”
“Ornery as hell,” Zen said, smoothing the last piece of tape. “But he’ll live.”
“Are we done yet?” Adam asked. He made to sit up, but the woman pushed him back down with a firm hand.
“Oh, no you don’t. I still have to stitch you up.”
Adam grimaced. “Is that really necessary?”
Zen nodded at Brooks, who brought over a spool of thread and a long needle. My stomach flip-flopped in sympathy for Adam. “Either you let me stitch you up or it’s at least a week of bed rest,” she warned.
Adam’s expression spoke volumes about his opinion of the second option. “Fine.”
“I thought so.” She smiled. “Now just lay back. This won’t hurt a bit.”
Giguhl coughed “Bullshit” into his claw.
Zen’s head snapped up. “Don’t make me kick your green ass out of here.”
The demon’s head ducked. “Sorry.”
Zen put on a pair of bifocals so she could thread the needle. “While I’m working, y’all can fill me in on what happened.”
I glanced at Adam. If talking would bother him, the discussion could wait. His eyes strayed to the needle for a moment before he finally nodded. Obviously he’d appreciate the distraction.
“We were ambushed,” I began. “One second the street was empty, and the next thing we knew …..”
I told her the whole story, from the midget orgy to the Count’s threats against Adam to Erron’s hasty departure. As I talked, Adam gasped from the needle’s sting. His male pride wouldn’t appreciate pitying glances or pauses, so I kept going. The story wrapped up about the same time Zen completed her task.
“Why did they target Adam?” she asked, snipping off the loose thread.
Leave it to Zen to focus on the part that made me most uncomfortable to talk about. “Lavinia believes Adam and I are romantically involved—”