Revenant(43)

“Must have been a hell of an explosion to wreck you like this,” she said.

Closing his eyes, he nodded. “You don’t even know.”

“I’d like to.”

His eyes opened. “Would you really.”

The cynicism in his voice pricked at something deep inside her. Did he think that people were always bullshitting him? Maybe it was a fallen angel thing, because her mother was the same way. Blaspheme might not be the most trusting person on the planet, but Deva left her in the dust.

“Whatever it is,” she said slowly, “you can tell me. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“I thought you weren’t held to human standards.”

Ouch. Way to throw that back in her face. “I pick and choose.” She unzipped the bag. “So spill.”

He closed his eyes again. “What’s your mother like?”

Whoa. Talk about a change of subject. But hey, if that was what he wanted to talk about and it would keep him calm, she’d humor him a little.

“She’s extremely high-strung,” she said as she fetched a pair of scissors from her bag and started to cut away his shirt. “But she’d do anything for me. She’d sacrifice… anything.” Including False Angels.

“My mother was like that.” His burned hands tightened into fists, and a shudder went through him. “She was such a fool,” he whispered.

Gently, she moved his hand away from his wound and pressed a blood-stopper pad against it. “She was a mother,” she said. “That’s what they do.”

“Fuck that.” He laughed, a nasty, bitter sound. “Got any alcohol?”

“Of course I have alcohol. I’m a False Angel,” she reminded him. False Angels drank liquor by the gallon, their bodies converting the stuff to the powdery aphrodisiac that coated their wings. Blas didn’t drink for that particular reason, especially now that she wasn’t producing the powder anymore and what was left on her wings was all that remained, but her disguise did make her crave it. “But it’s not a good idea to drink right now.” When his upper lip curled in a silent snarl, she threw up her hands in defeat. “Fine. But when you pass out from blood loss and alcohol, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She replaced his hand on the pad. “Apply pressure. I’ll be right back.”

She fetched a bottle of Smirnoff from the liquor cabinet and handed it to him. He immediately guzzled half of it. Gods, she hoped he had a high tolerance. He was a pain in the ass when he was sober; she couldn’t imagine what he’d be like under the influence. She’d bet her favorite set of scrubs that he was a mean drunk.

Settling in next to him, she laid out the supplies she’d need to sew him back together. He watched her with curiosity as she performed a rapid exam to determine the extent of his injuries, but aside from the near-evisceration wound, all she found were burns and abrasions.

She carefully cleaned the surgical area and threaded a needle with absorbable thread. “I don’t have anything that will numb the area, so this is going to hurt.”

He took a deep swig. “Trust me, you can’t do anything to me that hasn’t been done before.”

Setting the needle and thread aside, she unwrapped a sterile scalpel. “Sounds like you’ve had a violent life.”

He snorted. “Who hasn’t?”

“I haven’t.” Thanks to her mother’s paranoia, Blaspheme had, for the most part, stayed out of trouble.

“Isn’t that special.” Revenant held up the bottle in a salute. “Good for you.”

“Yeah, good for me.” She scooted in closer to Revenant and tried to ignore the heat coming off his muscular body. “I need to excise the damaged skin on the edges of your laceration. Try not to move.”

He didn’t move at all. He closed his eyes, put his head against the wall, and half an hour later, she was finished cleaning and prepping the wound. Next up, stitches.

“In the deepest parts of this lac, I need to put in internal sutures. It should only take a few minutes.” She pierced his flesh with the needle. “Lucky for you, most of the cut is fairly shallow.”

“You know you don’t need to go to a lot of trouble,” he said, his voice starting to slur a little. “I’m immortal. I’ll heal on my own eventually.”

She looked up at him. “That’s why I’m not worried about infection or making this pretty.” She pulled on the thread. “But you shouldn’t have to be in pain until you heal.”

His lids opened, just a crack, but she felt his intense gaze scorching her skin. “It’s been a long time since anyone gave a shit about my pain.”