Devoured: Brides of the Kindred 11 (16 page)

“Amazing!” The nurse in her wanted to
examine them more closely. She took one of his hands between her own, much
smaller ones, and looked at it closely. “How is this possible?”

He shrugged. “Kindred heal more quickly
than humans.”

“Well, that’s…oh!” A wave of dizziness hit
her, causing her to grip his hand for support.

“Tess? Are you all right?” Garron sounded
really concerned. He reached out to support her with his other hand as well but
she shook her head and stepped back. Taking a deep breath, she stood up
straight even though it made her back feel like someone had set it on fire.

“Fine—I’m fine. Just really tired. Come
on, let’s get a room.”

Garron looked like he wanted to say more.
Instead, he followed her wordlessly into the hotel lobby where a sleepy night clerk
agreed to let them have a king single room even though it was nearly four
thirty in the morning. They rode silently in the elevator up to the third floor
and found their room.

Tess opened the door with the keycard
since Garron was carrying her duffel. He followed her into the room, but when
he tried to follow her into the bathroom, she drew the line.

“No,” she said firmly, keeping a hand on
the knob. “This is a private place. See the toilet and shower? People get naked
in this room and I’m not about to get naked in front of you. I mean, just
because you saw me with my towel half off earlier…”
He didn’t just see you—he held you…felt you pressed against him,
whispered
a little voice in her head. She felt her cheeks getting red. “I just…I need a
little time to myself, okay?”

“I know why you want time to yourself.”
Garron frowned. “And it’s not all about modesty. You’re going to try to see to
your back—but you can’t treat injuries like that alone.”

“I’ll be fine.” Tess shifted
uncomfortably. “Honestly, I’m a nurse—or I was almost one, anyway. I’ve got my
LPN, just not my RN. Anyway, the point is, I can manage.”

“No, you can’t.” His deep voice was stern.
“And you’re not going to try. Take some time to bathe if that’s what you want
to do. After that, come out and let me help you.”

Tess set her jaw. She wasn’t going to have
him helping her—not after the way he’d freaked out about her back earlier.
Also, even though he had seen her half naked before, she didn’t intend to
repeat the performance. She had too many big-girl body issues to go prancing
around in the nude—especially in front of a guy like Garron who was in perfect
shape and looked like he’d stepped off the front cover of
Men’s Health.

“I don’t think so,” she said shortly.

“I do.” He looked at her, his jewel-toned
eyes blazing into hers.

“I don’t really care what you think.” She
was aware that it sounded childish but she didn’t care. She hated feeling like
a victim and she’d had enough of men telling her what to do.

“Tess—”

“I’ll be out in a little while. Don’t
worry, I won’t use all the hot water.”

She shut the door firmly in his face and
then took a deep breath and pressed her forehead against the door. Why was she
being so bitchy to him? He was just trying to help, after all.

But I
don’t
want
to need help. I don’t
like feeling this way—wounded…cornered…vulnerable.
Indeed, she’d liked it a whole lot better back when he
thought she wasn’t real—when she was just an artificial girl without any real
problems or personality. At least then he hadn’t looked at her with pity in
those gorgeous eyes of his. At least he hadn’t been horrified by what had
happened to her.

Tess sighed and took off her sweater and
yoga pants—though she kept on her panties—and started to pull off her shirt. Or
tried to, anyway—but the shirt wouldn’t come off.

The pink cotton t-shirt was stuck to the
skin of her back. Indeed, the fabric seemed to have bonded to the places where
Pierce’s buckle had cut her especially deep.

Tess gave a low hiss of pain as a small
part of the t-shirt gave way, tearing the skin open again as it did. A warm
trickle of blood ran down her back.

“Goddamnit!” she muttered under her
breath. “Of all the stupid things…”

“Tess?” There was a knocking at the
bathroom door. “Do you need help?”

“No!” she said at once. She pulled at the
t-shirt again and tore more skin open. “Damn it…” She sighed. There was silence
outside the door but it was a listening silence, as though the big Kindred was
standing there, waiting for her to acknowledge her helplessness.

“Tess?” he said again after a moment.

Tess sighed, defeated. There was no way
she was getting the t-shirt off herself. Although she didn’t know what Garron
could do to help, she finally opened the door.

“All right, come in. My stupid t-shirt is
stuck to my back but I don’t see what you can do about it.”

He studied the red-splotched back of her
pink t-shirt for a moment and she watched his expression covertly in the
mirror, looking for signs of disgust. There was nothing on his face, though—he
kept it carefully blank. Only the blazing of his pure turquoise eyes betrayed
any emotion.

“I think I know what to do,” he said at
last. “Come here.” He led her to the bath tub and tested the water temperature
carefully before turning on the shower. Then he stepped back. “Get in.”

“What—with all my clothes on?” Actually,
she was down to just her t-shirt and panties—a point she was acutely aware of.
But still…

“If you ever want to get that pink garment
off, then yes. Here—it looks like the bathing area might be slippery.” He
rolled up his sleeves and offered her a hand. “I’ll help you in.”

At last Tess’s tired brain began to
process what he had in mind.

“I can manage,” she said stiffly and then
ruined her show of independence by swaying tiredly before she could even get
near the shower.

“Here.” Reaching out, Garron took her arm
firmly and handed her carefully into the tub. “Now just stand under the spray.”

Tess hissed as the lukewarm needles of
water hit her injured back but after a moment she could feel the shower doing
its job. The cotton material which had dried stiff to her back at last began to
loosen. Finally, she could feel the t-shirt pealing free to hang in limp,
sodden folds around her hips. Her hair got wet in the process, as well as the
rest of her but she almost didn’t care. The water felt refreshing after the
long, cramped drive and its warmth was welcome against her aching, bruised
back.

“All right, I think it’s better now,”
Garron’s deep voice said in her ear and the water was suddenly turned off.

Tess jumped—in her pleasure at the shower,
she’d almost forgotten he was standing right beside her.

“Step out onto the mat,” he said,
indicating the white terrycloth bathmat in front of the tub. “But first take
off your wet clothes so I can wrap you in this.” He held out a white towel and
nodded at her.

“What? No.” Tess shook her head
vehemently. “I told you, I’m not getting naked around you.”

Garron sighed. “You have a beautiful body,
Tess but you’re wounded right now. I hope you don’t think I’m the kind of male
who would take advantage of you in your current situation.”

“I don’t really know
what
kind of guy, uh male, you are,” Tess snapped and felt
immediately sorry for being mean. After all, he
was
trying help her. “I mean, you seem really nice I just…haven’t
known you that long. That’s all,” she ended rather lamely.

“No, you’re right. You don’t know me.”
Garron’s expression was closed. “I don’t blame you for being cautious. Would it
help if I closed my eyes?” He closed them as he spoke and then motioned with
the towel which he was still holding open for her.

“Well…” Tess bit her lip and decided she
was just going to have to trust him. After all, he hadn’t tried to take
advantage so far and he
did
seem like
a nice guy.
So did Pierce…at first,
whispered
a voice in her head but she pushed it away. “All right,” she said at last when
the big Kindred just stood there with his eyes closed, waiting. “Just give me a
minute.”

“Take as much time as you need.”

“Thanks.” She shuffled out of the sodden
pink t-shirt as carefully as she could, trying not to pull the bruised muscles
of her back. God, you never knew how much you used your back until you injured
it—or someone else injured it for you.

Hold
still, bitch! Hold still and take your whipping!
Pierce shouted in her head.

Tess took a deep breath and put a lid on
the memory. There was no point in reliving that part of the pain too.

She debated taking her panties off too and
in the end, she decided to do it. Modesty was just going to have to take a back
seat to comfort, at least for tonight. She slipped her thumbs into the
waistband of her plain white panties—now soaked like the t-shirt—pushed them
down and kicked them away. Then slowly, carefully, she climbed out of the tub.

Garron was still standing there waiting
with his eyes closed tight, his eyelashes like black fans against his high
cheekbones. Tess wondered if he was fighting the urge to peek—or if he was glad
he’d promised to keep his eyes closed. Probably the latter. Still, he
had
said she had a beautiful body…

Forget
it and just cover up,
she advised herself.
Accordingly, she stepped into the white towel and pulled it around her… Or she
would have if the rough hotel terrycloth hadn’t felt like sandpaper against her
wounded back. She hissed in pain and jumped away from the coarse material.

“Are you all right?” Garron sounded
concerned but he still didn’t open his eyes.

“Fine, I just…here, give me the towel,
please.” She took the white towel and pressed it against her chest instead of
wrapping it around from the back. Now her ass was hanging out but at least her
front was covered. In this position the towel only rubbed against one sore
spot—a little cut on her left breast just above her nipple. It was the first
blow Pierce had landed before she’d gotten into a protective crouch and only a
glancing one, so it didn’t hurt that much. “Okay,” she said at last, trying to
keep the towel firmly in place. “You can open your eyes now.”

“All right.” He opened his eyes and his
gaze flicked over her quickly, as though looking for injuries. “The front of
you looks mostly unharmed at least,” he remarked after a quick but thorough
inspection.

“That’s because I was in a ball on the
floor protecting my face,” Tess said grimly. “A hurt back heals a hell of a lot
faster than a broken jaw or a…” She stopped when she saw the look on his face.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, looking away. “I shouldn’t have…I don’t know why I
said that.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His
face was tight, his jaw clenched. “I should have gotten to you sooner. Should
never have sent you off the Mother Ship in the first place.”

“I told you, it’s
not
your fault.” Tess sighed. “Look, I know how horrifying this
must seem to someone who’s never dealt with it before—”

“But I
have
dealt with it,” he said quietly, surprising her. “Look,” he continued,
obviously seeing the skeptical expression on her face. He unbuttoned his shirt
and slipped it down, off his shoulders. Turning, he exposed his broad, bare
back.

Tess caught her breath. She’d seen him
shirtless before but only from the front. Now, in the harsh fluorescent lights
mounted over the sink and counter, she could see that his smooth, tan skin was
marked with long, white scars, almost like stripes running across his
shoulders. They were faint, as though they’d been made a long time ago before he
got his growth, but still noticeable.

Without thinking she reached up to trace
one with her fingertip. The big Kindred shivered under her touch but didn’t try
to move away.

“How?” she whispered.

“Those are the marks of a cane cut from
the agony plant.”

“The agony plant? Sounds awful.” Tess
shivered.

“It has certain chemicals that cause the
wound to sting like fire and heal more slowly so the pain lasts for longer.” He
frowned. “I was about eight or nine cycles old when he used it on me. I have
born the marks ever since.”

“He…who?” Tess shook her head. Who would
do such a cruel thing to a little boy?

“My apa—my father. He was…much like your
ex mate.” He turned to face her again, pulling the shirt back into place but
leaving it loose and unbuttoned.

“He was?” Tess raised an eyebrow at him.
“Really? He, uh, hurt you and your mother?”

“Not my mother, no.” Garron shook his
head. “I think that is what bothers me so much about what…was done to you. He
never lifted a hand to her—or to any female. All his aggression was aimed at my
brother and myself.”

“So you…grew up with this kind of thing?”
Tess asked hesitantly.

He nodded. “My brother tried to deflect
his anger as much as he could but there were times when it wasn’t always
possible, especially when my father was very drunk. He…” Garron looked away.
“He was unstoppable then, until he had spent his anger on someone. Most often
that was my brother, Truth. But sometimes…sometimes it was my turn.”