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Stone Cold Touch
Stone Cold Touch
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Stone Cold Touch

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“Maddox.” Dez stepped forward, clutching Drake as the toddler grabbed a handful of hair with chubby fingers. “This is Layla.”

There was a heavy layer of warning in Dez’s voice that caused Maddox to straighten as though steel had been poured down his spine. He nodded curtly and then stepped around me, giving me a wide enough berth that one would think I was carrying some kind of vicious disease.

“Have you seen Tomas?” Maddox asked, watching me from the corners of his eyes. “He went into the city. Has he come back?”

“No,” Dez said, hoisting Drake up. Behind him, Jasmine frowned as she eyed me. I was sure her “there’s a wounded bird nearby” senses were firing. She was a Hell of a healer. Something I was in desperate need of, but I needed to get out of here. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” he finished.

With a sinking feeling, I had a real bad idea about who Tomas was...or used to be. Oh dear. I started to shuffle toward the stairs, but Zayne’s deep, husky laugh drew my attention.

He was in the library with Geoff, our resident techie and gadget gargoyle, and his father. Some of our other clansmen were there. Abbot sat behind the desk, rolling a cigar between his fingers. It was unlit. He never smoked them, just seemed to like handling them.

Zayne was standing with his back to the door, next to a beautiful dark-haired female Warden—the kind of beauty that made me feel blah on a good day. Danika was leaning into him and smiling as one of the clansmen told a story.

I didn’t know what kind of story. I was never included in the tales. And the only times I’d been in Abbot’s library recently were when I was getting lectured about one thing or another.

My feet felt funny as I stood in the hallway. “Zayne?” My voice also sounded weird. The handkerchief seemed wetter.

Turning around, the smile on Zayne’s face froze. “Layla?”

I knew I probably looked like death chewed up and spit back out. I nervously glanced at Danika, not daring to look at Abbot. “C-can I talk to you for a second? Alone?”

“Yeah. Hold on just a sec.” He twisted back to Danika and then his father, who was most likely giving him that look. The look that said don’t you dare walk away from Danika, your future baby mama. “I’ll be back.”

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. “It’s okay. Are you?”

That question was directed at me, and I think I said something in the affirmative. I hobbled past where Dez and the new guy stood with Jasmine, not waiting on Zayne. If I didn’t sit down, I was going to fall down.

With my good hand, I clenched the banister as I started up the stairs. Zayne was right beside me, head bent low as he spoke. “Are you okay?”

“Uh...” A few more steps. A few more steps. “Not really.”

Moving closer to me, he sucked in a breath. “I smell blood. You’re bleeding.”

“Kind of,” I squeaked. As he started to turn back around, no doubt to sound the alarm, I said, “Don’t say anything yet. Please.”

“But—”

“Please.”

Zayne swore under his breath, but kept coming up the steps. “How bad?”

“Uh...”

We rounded the second landing, and once we were out of sight, Zayne bent and gathered me up in his arms. Any other time, I would’ve pitched a fit, but the whole “bleeding and being in pain” thing kept me quiet.

“I need a little detail,” he said, heading straight for his room—not mine—his. I was a little distracted by that as he shuffled me against his chest and opened the door. “Talk to me, Layla. I’m starting to freak out.”

When he toed the door shut behind him, I forced my tongue to work. “I think I might’ve been stabbed.”

“You think?” he shouted.

I flinched. “Okay. I was.”

“Jesus.” He sat me down on the edge of his bed. Over his shoulders, the wall-to-wall bookcase was overflowing with books. “Where? Where is it?” But he was already searching with his eyes and hands. When he reached my upper arm, I yelped. “Shit.” He pulled back his hand and his fingers were smeared in red. “Why didn’t you tell Nicolai?”

“It’s not that bad, right?” I looked down, but the black material hid the damage.

Zayne took the soaked scarf from me and dropped it on the wood floor. “I don’t know. I need to take your top off.”

I raised my brows at that.

He shot me a bland look as he brushed his hair back with his forearm. “And you need to tell me how this happened.”

“I was near Dupont Circle and—do you really need to take my top off?” I asked as he reached for the hem of my sweater.

Zayne looked up, his blue eyes bright with determination and his normally golden skin a shade or two paler. “Yes. It’s in the way.”

“But—”

“I saw you in your bra just yesterday. Remember?” When he pointed that out, it wasn’t as though my argument for modesty was valid. “You were around Dupont?”

I nodded, swallowing hard as he lifted my sweater. “I was out trying to spot a demon. You know, to figure out if I could see anything different around them.”

“Dammit, Layla, you could’ve asked me. I would’ve gone with you.”

The sweater being tugged over my head and off my good arm hid the face I’d made. “I wasn’t going to engage the demon.”

“Yeah, that’s a moot point when a demon obviously engaged you.” He didn’t even check out my lacy pink bra as he gently eased the sweater down my left arm.

I sucked in a breath when he reached the wound.

“Sorry,” he grunted.

“A demon didn’t engage me.” The wound was angry looking and bloody, and I forced myself to look away, focusing on Zayne’s bowed head. “I’m not even sure I saw one.”

He was quiet as he worked the sweater completely off. Reaching over, he grabbed a quilt, draping it over my front. “Then who did this to you?”

I reached up with my uninjured arm, wrapping my fingers around the necklace. “A Warden.”

His head swung toward me and his lips parted. “A Warden did this?”

“Yes. I’ve never seen him before,” I said, breathing in deeply as he gently inspected the wound. “He grabbed me as I was walking to meet up with Nicolai. I did nothing to instigate it. He just came out of nowhere and I tried to get him to understand I wasn’t a threat, but he came at me.”

“Shit. This was an iron blade.” Tension radiated off Zayne as he pulled back, fingers covered in my blood. “Did you shift?”

“I started to when he got me with the knife, but...Bambi came off me then and...oh God, Zayne, I tried to stop her, but the Warden—he wouldn’t listen.”

He stilled as his gaze flicked up, meeting mine. “What happened to the Warden?”

I shook my head slowly, not wanting to say it. My stomach roiled. “Bambi...she ate him.”

Zayne stared at me. “Ate him?”

“Whole. Like gobbled him right up.” A choked laugh escaped me as I ducked my chin. Strands of hair slipped forward over my shoulder. “Oh my God, this is so bad. I think it’s the Warden from the New York clan. Tomas? The one they were talking about downstairs. I mean, how many unfamiliar Wardens would just be roaming around D.C.? And that means Dez knows him and is probably his friend and I like Dez. He’s always been nice to me and now my pet demon snake ate his friend and I—”

“Whoa, slow down, Layla-bug. Okay? It might have been him, but there’s nothing we can do about that. He came at you and Bambi defended you. Enough said.”

“Yeah,” I breathed, knowing the other Wardens wouldn’t see it like that.

“Stay here.”

Like I was going anywhere bleeding and shirtless?

Zayne disappeared into his bathroom and returned quickly with two damp towels. He soaked up the blood in silence and the act...ah, it reminded me of when Roth had cleaned me up in his apartment, which made my chest ache as badly as my arm and this whole situation about a thousand times worse.

“How badly does this hurt?”

“It stings.” I watched the array of muscles moving under his shirt.

“Where’s Bambi now?” he asked, glancing to where the quilt covered my chest and belly.

“On me.”

He arched a brow. “Is she invisible now?”

I cracked a smile. “She’s wrapped around my leg at the moment. I think she’s hiding.”

“Maybe she has an upset stomach.”

A partly hysterical laugh burst free and a small grin stretched his lips. None of this was funny, but if I didn’t laugh, I’d probably start screaming. “I tried to stop her. And I tried to get the Warden to understand. I swear, Zayne. He just wouldn’t. He said I smelled like a demon. Do I smell like a demon?”

His mouth opened and then he clamped it shut. Tossed the bloodied towel to where my sweater lay. “The cut’s not healing up and it’s not going to with an iron blade and that’s damn...”

“Dangerous to demons. Great. That’s perfect.” I stared up at him, holding the quilt to my chest with one hand. “Do I smell like a demon?”

“Let me get Jasmine—”

“No. She’ll tell Abbot and that Warden probably belongs to the New York clan. Abbot will blame me.”

“No he won’t.”

A ball of unease formed in my belly. “I came to you because I trust you. You can’t tell your father. Please.”

Zayne’s shoulders tensed. “Then let me get Danika. Don’t look at me like you just swallowed cat urine.”

“Ew,” I groaned.

“She won’t say anything and she’s as good as Jasmine when it comes to these kinds of things.” He leaned in, placing his hands on either side of my legs. “We can trust Danika.”

I bet my face looked as though I’d also swallowed hamster pee.

Zayne got really close, pressing his forehead against mine. I tried to edge away, but he followed and he was too close. I closed my eyes, clamping my mouth shut as the urge to—to feed rose above the pain and the icy feeling of panic.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said, his hands curling around my knees. “I’m going to get your arm fixed up and then we’re going to figure this out. But if you trust me...”

I started to look away, but he placed his fingers on my cheeks, stopping me. “Zayne.”

“If you trust me, then you have to trust that this will be safe with Danika,” he continued. “I can’t do this—stitch your arm. Not by myself. Okay? I got you.”

Holding my breath, I nodded. I was unsure if I agreed just to get him to back away before I latched onto him or if I was actually willing to dump my trust in Danika’s—of all people’s—hands.

Zayne lifted his head and kissed my forehead, causing my heart to tumble over itself. “I’ll be right back.”

It took about two minutes for him to return with Danika. During that time, I’d convinced myself that Zayne had been waylaid by his father and forced to spill the truth. The sick sense of dread was like rotten food in my tummy.

Zayne stepped in, closing the door quietly behind Danika. She carried a small bag that looked like a sewing kit. Oh God. They were so going to sew my skin. I turned wild eyes on Zayne.

He sat beside me, drawing my wide stare. “I’ve told her everything.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” she said, placing the bag beside me and immediately starting to rummage through it. “Just that I’m glad you’re sitting here and Bambi got a good meal in.”

I gaped at her.

She shrugged one elegant shoulder. “I don’t like judgy people or judgy Wardens and if it was Tomas, then he’d be the kind to be judgy.”

“Y-you knew him?”

Nodding, she turned to my arm and made a clucking sound. “This was definitely iron,” she said to Zayne. “See how the edges are kind of burned?”

My skin was burned?

“Even if she had shifted, this wouldn’t heal. She’ll be fine once she’s stitched up,” she went on, and I saw something out of the corner of my eye that looked like thread. “If she was a full-blooded demon...”

“She’s not,” Zayne said, and I almost laughed at the needless reminder.

“I know,” she replied quietly. “I can understand why you don’t want Abbot to know. You must’ve been so scared.”

I couldn’t look at Danika and I wasn’t sure what to do with her sympathy at that moment. I knew she was threading a needle and I was about to lose my shit, but then she picked up a jar.

“This is a mixture of camphor and Spilanthes. It will help numb the skin, okay?”

Clenching my teeth, I nodded.

Danika spread some minty-smelling gunk all over my arm. I jerked a little when it stung, but within seconds, the mixture turned cold, seeping beyond the skin and into the muscle. Placing the jar back in the bag, she picked up her instruments of unimaginable pain and she looked up. Her striking face—perfect high cheekbones, straight pert nose and full lips—was leached of all color.

That wasn’t very reassuring.

“This is still going to hurt,” she said quietly to Zayne. “You should probably...um, hold her in place.”