He glowered back at me, and I was sure that only a small part of the anger on his face, still disguised as human by the coat he was wearing, was reserved for my attacker.
"Have you not noticed that there's some beast going around murdering company actresses, nut?" Ronan snapped.
My mouth opened automatically to say I would be fine, then shut just as quickly at the obvious. I was almost very much not fine. I was only remotely okay because Ronan and Nireas had come chasing after me.
"You took a cab," I whispered.
"Something like that," he answered, hardly softening. Then his anger crumpled, and he leaned in to press a kiss against my forehead, whispering, "Thank the stars."
Nireas lit the small oil lamp on the counter with a huff of breath, quickly finding the little jar of oil I'd used for Pa when the chill had set in. It was fragrant with herbs and easy enough to lie and say it was charmed for healing, and it wouldn't do me any harm. My eyes widened as I glanced behind him, to the window sill, where the rosemary's roots had stretched down the wall and across the counter. Calling to me. Would Nireas and Ronan notice?
Nireas crouched on the floor in front of me, blocking my view, all six arms busy wiping me clean from my hands to my throat. The panic of the attack had finally receded enough for me to realize he wasn't disguised.
"Nireas! How did you—"
"We borrowed a patron's carriage," Ronan said. "And rushed into your building with a bit of force. It was dark out."
"But you could've been seen—"
"It doesn't matter," Nireas hissed, his large hands so gentle as he unwrapped my fist from around the towel. "I should have water, or—"
"The oil will be enough," I assured him.
I bit around my lips as he dabbed the oil onto the deep cuts with a clean corner of the towel, and he was nearly done when we heard the shout.
"Miss Nix?"
Hunter, panic lacing his voice.
Ronan stiffened, his arms gripping me tighter. "It could have been him," he whispered over my head to Nireas, whose eyes narrowed as he started to stand.
"In here!" I called, lowering my voice to the others. "It wasn't. I know...I know him well enough. I would've recognized him."
The sickly sweet smell was all wrong, at the very least.
Still, Nireas rose to as much of his impressive height as my ceiling allowed, and Ronan hunched around me, teeth bared like a guard dog as Hunter charged into the room. He skidded to a stop at the sight of us, gleaming green skin paling as he looked at me, his body growing in his well-cut suit.
"It was the killer," Nireas said, words hard and suspicious.
"Who?" Hunter asked, his shock vanishing beneath stern lines and a set expression. The warrior I'd seen in rare moments.
"He ran out before we reached her," Ronan said.
"I couldn't get a look, and he didn't speak," I added.
Hunter's jaw clenched, ticking with tension as his gaze traveled over me.
"It looks worse than it is," I offered.
"Don't," Nireas snapped at me, head shaking. "You were nearly killed."
"Don't bark at her," Ronan snarled up at him.
"Enough." A general's orders to his men. And proof of Hunter's experience, because the bickering between Ronan and Nireas halted immediately. "He perfumed to mask his scent. I will track him as far as I am able. Comfort her," Hunter ground out at the others.
Ronan bristled, but Nireas nodded solemnly.
Jude needs to know, I thought, but I hadn't told anyone about the detective.
"Her bed is in the next room," Hunter added, and I thought there was just a hint of triumph in the words. He was the only one of the three who'd been there, after all. "I'll return soon, little one."
I nodded and relaxed as Hunter strode out the back.
"You're certain it wasn't him?" Ronan grunted, lifting me from the floor.
"He's right about the perfume. I could smell it the moment I walked in," I said.
"We would've caught it on him," Nireas added softly, hovering in place, the bloodied towel in his hand. "He arrived too quickly."
Nireas was right, and given that both he and Ronan had appeared as well... I sighed and sank into the cradle of Ronan's arms. It'd been difficult to even wonder if Ronan might've been the killer, or Hunter, but the relief of knowing it couldn't be true was a heavy weight lifted.
"Can you get water? I hate seeing the blood on her," Ronan called over his shoulder, carrying me into my bedroom. "And do what you can to lock the doors."
"What you can?"
The faint light through my bedroom window landed on Ronan's sheepish smile. "Told you we rushed in. I picked your building door easily enough, but Nireas had to break yours at the lock. We'll get it fixed. Not that you'll be staying here alone anytime soon," he added in warning.