Broken (36 page)

Hull jumped at the sight of Clay. “My apologies. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s because I didn’t.”

Clay nodded at the lounge chair.

“Oh, oh, yes, of course. I should have known. You’re quite…attentive.”

“You could say that,” I murmured.

Hull searched for something to say, but under Clay’s steady stare, he wilted. With a murmured good night, he hurried out the door, closing it behind him.

“Scared off another one,” I said. “No wonder I don’t have any friends.”

“You have me,” Clay said, leaning beside me. “What more do you need?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“And you have Nick.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Bet he’d be happy to hear that.”

“You know what I mean. Pack brothers don’t count.”

“Okay. You have Paige.”

“To your everlasting dismay.”

“No, it just confirms that you still haven’t forgiven me for that biting thing.”

I laughed and leaned into his side.

“Paige is okay,” he said. “Same as Jaime, and anyone else you want to befriend except Cassandra.”

“Had to slide that one in, huh?” I stretched, and stifled a yawn. “About Hull…was that just a general ‘get out of my face, human’ warning, or something more specific?”

“Seemed like you were in danger.” He met my gaze. “Death by boredom.”

I sputtered a laugh. “That’s not nice.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t like him hanging around out here when he thought you were alone, so I wanted to make sure he knew you
weren’t
alone. Maybe I’m paranoid, but I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anyone.”

“Sure, I do,” he said, sliding his hands around my waist and turning me to face him. “I trust Jeremy.”

I swatted him. “Thanks a hell of a lot.”

“Oh, I trust you…in ways. I trust you not to run off with some other guy. Trust you not even to
think
about running off with another guy. Trust you to watch my back in a fight. Trust you to watch my back more than your own, no matter how much I tell you otherwise. Trust you not to smother me in my sleep. But do I trust that you’d never throw me off this balcony, no matter how much I pissed you off? Uh-uh. I’m not stupid.”

“More a lack of complacency than a lack of trust, then.”

“Exactly.”

I laughed and leaned over the railing. “It’s only three floors down. You wouldn’t die.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

When I didn’t answer, he growled, scooped me up and kissed me, teeth nipping my lip. I groaned and pressed into him…well, pressed the protruding part of my body into him, which really wasn’t all that sexy.

“Damn,” I muttered. “Even making out is getting tough.”

“Just a matter of ingenuity. And repositioning.”

He hoisted me up, putting my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck, then moving against the railing. With his hands behind my back, he leaned me over the edge. I turned my head to look down at the cars passing below.

“You trust me?” he said.

I met his eyes. “Absolutely.”

He leaned over and kissed me hard. Still awkward, but after about three seconds, I forgot that. I tried to forget too how much more fun this would be without the clothing barrier. That one was tougher, but you take what you can get, and this was pretty damned fine, feeling him hard against me, tasting him, hearing his low growl of—

A deep sigh. “Figures.”

I glanced over to see Nick carrying an ice bucket of drinks and an armful of snacks.

“Don’t ask me to leave,” he said. “You have sex in public, you get an audience.” He squinted over at us. “You’re…still dressed. Great method of contraception, buddy, but I think it’s a bit late.”

Clay pressed his lips to my ear as he straightened me up. “You have my permission to throw
him
off the balcony.”

Nick continued, “Elena getting shy in her maternity? Won’t let you do it in public anymore?”

“It’s not in public.” Clay lowered me from the railing. “It’s in a public place. There’s a difference.”

“Hey, if you were working up to the clothing-ripping part, go right ahead. I’ll just sit back and enjoy the show. I have snacks and everything.”

“Unfortunately, until this is over,” I said, waving at my stomach, “making out is all you’re going to see.”

“You mean you can’t have—?” He sputtered a laugh. “Damn, that’s tragic.”

I looked at Clay and jerked my chin toward the railing. “You want to take his arms or legs?”

“Oh, come on,” Nick said. “So you can’t have sex for a while. No big deal. Even I’ve gone without sex for a few weeks.”

“Four months,” I said.

Nick looked up from his lounger. “What?”

“If I go to term, I have four months left.”

“Four…?” He looked from Clay to me. “Good luck with that.”

Clay smacked the top of his head as he walked over to pull out the second lounger and motioned for me to join him on it.

“Better make sure it doesn’t have a weight restriction first,” Nick said.

I seconded Clay’s smack.

Nick rubbed the top of his head. “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I’m not getting any either. Of course, I’ll be home soon, and then that’ll change, unlike some of us…”

He ducked before either of us could smack him again. I settled in beside Clay. As I laid my head back onto Clay’s shoulder, my cheek brushed his.

“You’re warm,” I said, lifting a hand to his forehead.

“Better than being cold. Got enough dead people wandering around this city.”

“I’m serious. You’re…” I tried with my other hand. “No, I guess it’s not too bad. I’ll get Jeremy to check you before bed. He should have another look at your arm too.”

“Sounding more like a mother every day,” Nick said. “Scary.”

Medical

I DREAMED THAT THE PORTAL CAUSED A CITYWIDE BLACKOUT
, and I was down in the PATH system, running through the hot, stuffy corridors, searching for the bathroom while the bowler-hatted zombie chased me, and I couldn’t fight him when I had to pee so badly I could hardly see straight.

Then I awoke, sweating and clawing at the heavy covers. Sunlight seeped through the crack between the drawn drapes. Nick was sleeping against my back, his hand on my rear. I realized I did have to use the bathroom. Badly. A quick look around reassured me that the zombie part of the dream, at least, had been imaginary.

I wriggled out of the tangle of limbs. As I climbed over Clay, I felt the waves of heat coming off him. He gave a low moan, almost too low to hear. Then his arm flew out, narrowly missing my head.

I scrambled up and turned on the bedside lamp. Clay’s color was high, the hair around his face plastered down with sweat.

Nick lifted the pillow from his head. “Wha—?”

“I’m getting Jeremy.”

I pulled on my pants, then grabbed the nearest shirt—Clay’s—and yanked it on as Nick rose from the bed, still blinking back sleep.

“Elena.”

Clay lifted his head from the pillow.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Just the fever coming back.”

He started to sit up, then stopped and wobbled, face going ashen with the sudden movement.

“I’m getting—” I began.

“No, let Nick.”

Nick nodded and brushed past me, scooping up his pants. I hesitated, then nodded and grabbed the bucket of melted ice water as Nick went to get Jeremy.

I was mopping icy water onto Clay’s forehead when Jeremy got there, his feet bare and his shirt undone. Clay started to sit up, but I pushed him back down, and he settled for rolling his eyes at Jeremy.

“She’s overreacting,” he said. “I have a fever. Just let me pop some Tylenol—”

Jeremy popped something else in his mouth—a thermometer. Clay grunted and sank back onto his pillow with a martyred “I’m surrounded” look.

“How high is it?” I asked when Jeremy checked.

“High.”

Clay started to reach for the Tylenol, but Jeremy shook his head. He dumped the capsules into his own hand, and held them to Clay’s lips. Clay rolled his fever-bright eyes at me, then opened up and let Jeremy tend to him.

Nick returned with a fresh bucket of ice, and I wrapped some in my wet towel.

“Enough,” Clay growled. “Give the pills a chance to kick in.”

Jeremy was checking Clay’s arm.

“How bad—?” I began.

“Do you have the number for that doctor?” Jeremy asked quietly. “The sorcerer you met the other day?”

“I don’t need—” Clay began.

“It’s your right arm, so we aren’t taking any chances.” He glanced at me. “Get the number, Elena.”

I called Zoe. The phone rang five times. When the machine answered, I hung up and hit redial. This time, she grabbed it on the second ring.

“Hello, there,” she said before I could say anything. “About time you called. I was beginning to feel—”

“I need Randall Tolliver’s number,” I said quickly.

A pause. “Are you okay?”

“It’s Clay. His arm. It’s—”

“We’ll be right there. Tell me where you are.”

When Tolliver arrived, he cleared Antonio and Nick out of the room, and only let Jeremy stay when it was clear he wasn’t leaving. I couldn’t blame Tolliver for not wanting an audience of supernatural strangers hovering over him, making sure he did his job right.

“It’s infected,” he said, after a quick examination.

“How badly?” I asked.

A nervous glance my way, as if I might pounce if I didn’t like his answer. “It’s…progressing.”

“Gangrene?” Clay said, pushing himself up.

A look crossed Jeremy’s face, and I knew he’d been wondering the same thing.

“Gangrene?” I said. “No, it can’t be, not from a scratch. That’s all it was. A scratch.”

“From a decomposing corpse raised by supernatural means,” Jeremy said.

“Which likely explains the acceleration and the refusal to respond to cleaning,” Tolliver said. “But it isn’t gangrenous. Not…” A glance my way, and he shut his mouth.

“Yet,” Clay finished for him.

A slow nod from Tolliver. “We should still be able to get it under control. Stronger antibiotics is one way to go. Or we can remove some of the infected tissue. The latter would be more likely to work, but would cause scarring—”

“I don’t care about looks,” Clay cut in. “Just function.”

Tolliver hesitated. “It’s…in a bad spot. If I needed to go deep, it might damage the muscle. It shouldn’t have any lasting effect on fine motor skills, like writing.”

“It’s larger motor skills I’m worried about.”

Tolliver nodded, as if this didn’t surprise him.

“If it would stop the spread of infection—” Jeremy began.

“Last resort,” Clay said.

He met Jeremy’s glance with a look that said he’d give in if pushed, but begged Jeremy not to push. I knew what Clay was thinking. If mutts found out Clay was no longer in peak fighting form, there’d be trouble.

Clay met my eyes. “Rather not take that risk.” His gaze dropped to my stomach. “Not now. Antibiotics will be fine.”

“Do you know what can happen if gangrene sets in?” Jeremy asked.

Clay nodded. “It’ll have to come off.”

“Off—?” I sputtered. “What will have to come off?”

I knew the answer, but my brain refused to process it. That couldn’t be what they meant, not with Clay so calm and decisive, as if they were discussing cutting off his hair.

“And even that might not work,” Jeremy said, his gaze locked with Clay’s.

“Are we talking about—?” My voice squeaked and I couldn’t finish the sentence. “From a scratch? It’s just a scratch!”

Clay reached for me, but I backed away.

“That is what we’re talking about, right?” I said. “Losing his arm? Losing his—his life?”

“No, no,” Jeremy said, coming toward me, face stricken. “I didn’t mean—”

I turned to face Tolliver. “That is what they mean, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Clay said, pushing himself up. “That’s what we mean, darling. Jeremy’s talking worst-case scenario, just so I know what
could
happen. It’s me he’s trying to spook, not you.”

Jeremy waved me over to sit down. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You don’t need that, not now. I’m sorry. I only wanted—”

“It’s okay,” I cut in, cheeks heating. “Of course, I know that could happen with a bad infection. Amputation, I mean. But I didn’t think—everything seemed fine—”

“It will be fine,” Clay said. “If antibiotics can still fix this, then I want to let it play out a bit longer. Keep an eye on it. If things get worse? I’ll take the surgery. I lose some function? I’ll compensate. But unless we’re at a critical stage already, I don’t want to jump into that.”