Maybe I should just let him heal me.
The thought slipped into her mind as naturally as water flows downhill. Maybe it was the fact that the huge beast hadn’t hurt her and didn’t show any kind of aggression towards her. Or maybe it was because his dense, silver-green fur gave off the same spicy, warm, comforting scent she smelled on Kalis when she cuddled close to the big Kindred. But for whatever reason, she found that her abject terror had almost completely leaked away.
“Okay,” she told the Ursus, who was pawing at her again and trying to turn her over. “I’ll try and roll over for you. I’m still kind of weak—give me a minute.”
She rolled on her left side—very, very carefully, since that was the side with the maimed hand—and did her best to tug her soaked chef’s whites (more like chef’s reds now, whispered a little voice in her head) above the place where the knife had entered.
The Ursus lowered his massive head and sniffed delicately at the knife’s entry point. Then he began licking again, spreading that healing warmth over her skin and inside her as well.
Jillian sighed softly and found herself relaxing as the soothing sensation penetrated her flesh. For a moment, her eyelids fluttered closed and she drifted between darkness and light. Then the Ursus was turning her over again, so that she was looking at its enormous face looming over her.
What’s wrong with me—I should be scared silly. Why aren’t I afraid of him anymore?
But somehow, she just wasn’t. It was almost as though, along with the healing warmth, the Ursus had imparted some kind of emotion to her. It was a feeling of protectiveness—of caring and concern. The giant predator cared for her—as crazy as it sounded, she could feel it.
“Thank you,” she whispered, as she looked up at him. The pain in her side was gone—gone completely—and she somehow knew that she was healed inside and out. “Thank you for healing me,” she told the Ursus again.
He made a soft sound in his throat and ducked his head as though in acknowledgement. Then he sniffed very carefully at her maimed left hand.
Jillian winced as she followed his gaze. She had been so consumed with the burning, stabbing pain in her side, she’d barely thought of her three severed fingers. Now she could barely stand to look at the bleeding stumps where they used to be.
“Well, I still have my pointer and my thumb at least,” she croaked, talking to herself as well as the Ursus. “And at least it’s not my right hand—that’s my knife hand.”
She looked around the dirty floor, searching for her missing fingers. Maybe they could still be reattached somehow? But she didn’t see them anywhere. Either they had gotten crushed and lost in the scuffle, or maybe they were under Jimmy Moreno’s body and she wasn’t about to go digging under his corpse to try and find them. Just the thought made her shiver with revulsion.
Then the Ursus made that soft, rumbling sound in the back of his throat again and carefully touched the tip of his black nose to the wrist of her injured hand. Then he opened his mouth just a little and looked at her expectantly.
Jillian’s heart began to beat faster. Was he asking her to do what she thought he was asking her to do? Did he actually want her to put her hand in his mouth?
The minute the thought entered her brain, she tried to push it away. It was one thing to let the massive predator lick her—it was quite another to literally stick her hand in his mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. After all, she could probably still manage in the kitchen with just one finger and her thumb. It would be a lot harder to cook with only one hand, if the Ursus bit her other one off.
The huge creature seemed to understand her fear, because he made that soft rumbling sound—it was almost like a very deep purring, Jillian thought—and nudged her healed side with his nose. Then he nudged her left wrist again. After that, he looked at her expectantly.
“Are you saying that you already healed my side and now you want to heal my hand?” Jillian asked hesitantly.
The Ursus nodded his massive head again—very decisively. Then he parted his lips and gave her that same expectant look.
Jillian took a deep breath. Was it worth the risk? She didn’t know, but the enormous creature had been incredibly gentle and tender with her so far—treating her much like Kalis himself would have, she was sure. Thinking of the big Kindred made her remember his words.
My Ursus loves you—he would never hurt you!
“Well, he’s been right so far,” she muttered to herself. “Let’s hope he’s right again.”
She winced as she levered herself up into a sitting position, using only her right arm as a prop. The Ursus waited patiently as she performed this operation, which was more difficult than expected since she was weak with blood loss. He kept his mouth open—just a little, not enough to show his teeth—and just looked at Jillian.