Instead of listening, Taggert picked up his pace.
“Please. I can manage.” At least she hoped she could. She hated being defenseless, hated relying on someone else.
When she tried to lean away from him, agony screeched through her body. Spots danced in front of her eyes. “Did she manage to leave any of my back intact?” She could barely form words, but she refused to be cowed by the pain.
When he didn’t reply, Raven bit her lip. The first hint that something was dreadfully wrong pinged through her. “Taggert?”
Water splashed her back when he crossed the stream. Crippling agony ripped through her as droplets of water trickled into her wounds. She couldn’t prevent herself from curling around him. “Please let me down.”
Finally, Taggert stopped, somehow sensing she was at her limit. It embarrassed her that she couldn’t stop shaking. Five minutes. She needed five minutes to rebuild as much of her shields as she could to protect Taggert. She could survive an overload, but even a shifter could only take that kind of abuse for so long and not be damaged, especially since he couldn’t take his animal form.
Though his chest heaved with exertion, he seemed reluctant to release her. He lowered her so gently that she didn’t even feel the ground. When he made to stand, she grabbed the material of his shirt and held him in place.
The pure yellow gleam in his eyes should’ve repelled her, but the shattered, lost expression had her heart aching for him. “I’m alright. I’ll be fine.” She reached out to touch his face, halting when he flinched. His rejection shattered her.
She did that to him.
When she would’ve let her hand fall, he grabbed her fingers and pressed them to his check. His eyes slid shut, and some of the tension eased from his shoulders.
His skin pebbled at her touch, and she jerked back. “I’m hurting you.”
Taggert slowly shook his head. When he opened his eyes, he appeared calmer. “Rylan and Jackson should be here soon. I can hear them, smell them. There about a mile away, moving fast.”
He drew away, and Raven gasped at all the blood. “You’re hurt.”
Her heart gave a painful squeeze, and she couldn’t find her breath. She tried to pull him back to inspect the wounds, but he refused her this time. If she didn’t think she’d pass out, she’d damn the pain and follow.
Part of her anxiety eased when she saw the blood wash away. Then a new fear took root. Her blood. She gulped hard, her throat tight with a fear that wouldn’t be banished.
“You have to get it all off.” He was adapting to her and the current so fast it scared the shit out her. Infection would explain everything. Being around her was changing him into something else. Something she could touch. She was ruining him, stealing his chance for an ordinary life.
A brooding expression crossed Taggert’s face as if he sensed her turmoil, her withdrawal. He melted a little in the shadows. She didn’t like the way he searched their surroundings, the way he refused to speak or the way his eyes whirled when he looked at her. Thunder rumbled, and he flinched.
She cleared her throat, knowing that later...much later...they would have to address this issue. She just had to keep her distance until they found another solution for him.
“Your vampire just disappeared. Where the hell have you been?” Jackson pulled to a stop half way across the clearing. He had directed his question at Taggert then slowly turned toward her.
With incredible speed that made her flinch, he was beside her. “What the hell happened?”
“We’ve found the killer.”
“What?” His roar rang in her ears.
Bile rose, her power fizzled and she fought to stay conscious. “Is there any way that we can take this conversation home before the storm breaks?” She wasn’t proud the way her voice shook.
Rylan appeared out of the night from the direction of the fight, his clothes rumpled, his perfectly coiffed hair in disarray, his expression so stiff it frightened her. Without saying a word, he scooped her up and traveled with her back to the car. She closed her eyes and buried her face against the crook of his neck so as not to risk losing the contents of her stomach as the world blurred around them. The hot, spicy scent of him swirled around her. Like a trigger, she remembered that scent, remembered the way he cared for her whenever she became injured when in captivity.
He carefully placed her in the backseat, then brushed her hair gently behind her ear. When he straightened, she saw the knife. “No. You can’t lose any more blood.”
“Neither can you.” He gripped the blade into his fist and pulled the knife clean. Blood welled and dripped from between his clenched fingers.