Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“Agreed.” I shudder. From what I know of that man, he’s more likely to behead someone seeking sanctuary than to give them the means to return to their realm. “But if Nox is managing to pull it off, then I bet there are others, too. There have to be for this to work. They can’t be operating alone. This is too organized for a single person to be behind it. Maybe there’s a way to look like we’re fulfilling our vows, but to work against the Cŵn Annwn.”
He stabs a single finger against the cover of the book. “Perhaps. But I find that I no longer have the stomach for monster killing. We’ll have to find another way. One that doesn’t paint a target on our backs in the process.”
I lean against his shoulder carefully. “What if we’re just very bad at what we do? We’ll try really hard, but those wily monsters will slip through our fingers again and again. Except mermaids. Fuck those mermaids.”
Bowen chuckles. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now. We’ll stay the night here and then head into the city tomorrow.”
I don’t want to go into town. I want to stay in this strange, magical place where possibilities seem endless and we don’t have to make hard decisions. It’s a silly dream. Life is full of hard decisions, and if we mean to work against the Cŵn Annwn, then we have to figure out how to thread the needle. But he’s right; we don’t have to figure it out tonight.
“Let’s eat.” I stand and offer my hand. It’s a testament to how shaky Bowen is that he accepts it and allows me to tug him gently to his feet. Worry is a physical thing inside me. He needs to see a healer. A proper one. The wound isn’t infected or actively bleeding, but now that he’s clean, we definitely need to bandage it at least. “But first, I’m going to play nurse.”
I lead him to the kitchen and urge him into the chair. A quick stir of the stew reveals it’s almost ready. I have just enough time to slap a bandage on this man. In my initial search, I found first aid kits—or at least Threshold’s version of them—in every single room. I can appreciate the level of preparedness, but it does make me wonder how many times people end up here while bleeding out.
It’s not a comforting thought.
Bowen holds still as I carefully apply the bandage to his neck. The only nurse I’ve ever played is the sexy kind, but it’s a fucking bandage. It’s not rocket science. Even so, I can’t help being afraid that I’m messing this up. If he dies because of my ineptitude, I don’t know how I’ll live with myself.
“Evie.” He covers my hands with his and gently guides them away from the bandage. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”
I worry at my bottom lip. “All my magic did was stop the bleeding. Those mermaid teeth looked vicious. Even if they’re not poisonous, there’s no way you didn’t get some gross ocean bacteria into the wound. Maybe we should head into town tonight. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to wait.”
“Evie,” he says my name again, and I don’t think I really registered that he’d started shortening my name. It just sort of happened—kind of like falling for him.
“Bowen.” My voice is a little wobbly, but my world is a little wobbly right now. “I’m worried about you.”
“I know.” There’s so much satisfaction in his tone, my knees go a little weak. He smiles. “This is not the first mermaid bite I’ve lived through. The previous ones didn’t get infected, and I doubt this one will, either. Even so, it will hold until we go to Cato tomorrow. Ze’s good at zir job, and ze’ll put me back together again without a problem.”
The way he says that makes me think that this Cato has healed him from significantly worse, which does little to help my blood pressure. I’ve seen the map of scars across his body. I know he’s lived through a lot of horrific injuries, but that isn’t reason enough to get careless now. “It would be very foolish of you to die over something incredibly preventable.”
“I’m not going to die. At least not yet.” He turns my hands over and presses a kiss to each palm. “You saved my life, and you’ve bandaged me up. The wound is clean. Let’s eat and sleep; that will do more to help than anything else.”
I highly suspect that he’s being a bit patronizing right now, but it comforts me all the same. If he feels well enough to be high and mighty, then he’s not knocking on death’s door.
The trick is keeping him from doing something foolish.