Eventide of the Bear (The Wild Hunt Legacy #3) (18 page)

Alec walked into the room, carrying Ben over one shoulder.

Horrified, Emma realized Ben was covered in blood. More dripped onto the floor.

“
Ben
.” She rushed toward him, stumbled, and steadied herself on the entry table.

He didn’t move. Wasn’t even conscious.

She tried to take another step, and her knee started to buckle. By the Mother, she had no time to be weak. Her frustration turned into a glare at Alec. “Get a healer. Right now!”

“Got it covered, Emma.” Alec tilted his head toward the still open doorway.

Donal walked in, nodded to her, and pointed to the staircase. “I’m sorry, my lad. I know he’s heavy, but I want him upstairs on his bed.”

“You’re the healer?” Ryder asked. To Emma’s surprise, he put an arm around her waist to steady her. “Why is he still bleeding? Why didn’t you work on him where this happened?”

“I slowed the bleeding down, but his shoulder bones are shattered,” Donal said. “I’ll have to make an incision to get in and align the fragments.”

Cut him? Emma wanted to shake the stupid healer, to shove him back out the door.

“And, as you noted, he’s bleeding,” Alec said. “On the off chance there’s another hellhound, the scent of blood would draw it like a fly to carrion.”

She felt Ryder flinch. He pulled in a breath. “Got it. Healer, what do you require?”

“Just yourself. And Emma.” Donal led the way up the stairs. “The cahir must return to patrol, so I’ll need you both to help hold Ben still.”

Hold him? While the healer hurt him more? Her feet stopped. Her throat tightened with tears. She couldn’t. Ever. The breath she released held a sob.

“Shhh, little bear.” Ryder squeezed her waist and pulled her along with him. “He’ll be all right. We’ll see to it.”

She’d asked the Mother to watch over Ben. To bring him home safely. Now it was her turn to pull her weight. “Yes.” She looked up into Ryder’s dark, intense eyes and felt only gratitude. “Thank you.”

*

An eternity later,
Ryder’s guts were so knotted that his insides threatened to come up. After healing the savage bite wounds on Ben’s side, Donal had sliced into Ben’s shoulder so he could push the bones in place.

Ryder was holding down his brother’s injured right arm. Emma sat on the other side of the bed, leaning against Ben and holding his left hand. Neither of them were needed, because Ben had awakened even before the healer started. Although sweat covered his face with the strain of holding still, he hadn’t moved an inch.

Watching his littermate suffer was the most horrible thing Ryder had ever endured.

When the healer dug his fingers into the sliced flesh and pushed a bone somewhere, Ben let out the moan a bear only gives when in agony.

Ryder’s control snapped. “For the Mother’s sake, healer, give him something more than a fucking local for the pain.”

“You’ve spent too much time around humans, cat. Seen them handing out narcotics like candy.” The healer didn’t look away from his work, although his lips curved cynically. “Giving pain medication to a Daonain is…chancy. Some shifters do fine having their senses blurred. But if hurt badly, some will
trawsfur
. I can handle a cub or small wolf, but an enraged grizzly? Not so much.”

Ryder shook his head. “He wouldn’t—

“He might,” Emma interrupted. Ever since the healer had started, she’d been silently crying, and her face was wet from tears. “When the healer hurts you, it’s difficult not to shift. Especially when”—she breathed out slowly—“when evil caused the injury. Pain brings the memories back.”

Donal shot her a quick smile. “Your restraint was appreciated, especially if you thought I was a hellhound attacking you again.”

Ryder straightened. “You really were attacked by a hellhound?”

Scowling, she met his gaze…and then her face softened. “Yes. I really was.”

“It was a wonder the bard survived,” Donal said. “Demon-dogs leave behind only savaged flesh and shattered bones.”

Returning to his work, the healer dug deeper into the wound, and Ben moaned again. Donal pulled out a fragment of bone. “Easy, Griz. Almost done here.”

Ryder felt Ben’s pain pulsing through the brother bond—and had to concentrate to keep himself from
trawsfurring
.

Instead, he turned his gaze to the little female. She’d wrapped her right hand around Ben’s wrist. In turn, his fingers were wrapped around her left so tightly his knuckles were white. She made no effort to free herself from the painful grip.

Genevieve wouldn’t have let herself be hurt; Emma hadn’t said a word.

Savaged flesh.
Emma regarded the clean hole in Ben’s shoulder. “A hellhound didn’t bite him. His shoulder isn’t a mess like my leg.”

“You’re right.” Alec walked in the door, his gaze on Ben.

Feeling as if he was waking from a nightmare, Ryder realized sunlight was spilling into the room. The long night was over. “If not the hellhound, what fucked up his shoulder?”

“A bullet from one of the cahirs here to be trained.” The sheriff dropped into a chair off to one side. “Wesley was supposed to get the hellhound’s attention—nothing else. Ben’s job was to gut the demon-dog with a knife. He was under the hellhound when Wesley started shooting. I don’t know if Wesley hit Ben directly or if the bullet ricocheted off the hellhound’s armored plates.”

Some cahir had shot his littermate? Fury rose in Ryder. “Where is the bastard? I’ll—”

“He’s dead.” Ben’s voice was hoarse with grief and pain.

“Aye. He has returned to the Mother.” The sorrow on Alec’s face matched Ben’s. “The bullet destroyed Ben’s chance to use his knife, and the hellhound charged Wesley.”

“Why did he shoot if he wasn’t supposed to?” Emma asked. “I didn’t think cahirs got scared.”

The healer snorted. “Only an idiot would face a hellhound without fear.”

Ben met Ryder’s gaze and half-grinned his agreement.

“We were scared, Emma,” Alec said softly. “Cahirs only manage to continue because our protective instincts are stronger than our fears.”

“You attacked a hellhound to save a child.” Donal gave her a glance from silver-gray eyes. “Weren’t you afraid?”

After a second, she nodded her understanding.

Her
understanding
? To save a child? Ryder’s preconceptions were disappearing faster than shadows fleeing before the dawn.

Her nightgown and robe had worked up to above her right knee, exposing the remnants of the wound. The pink and white scars laid out an ugly pattern of torn muscles and skin. The rows of puncture marks were mute evidence of a bite from a huge jaw.

She hadn’t lied. And she’d risked her life to save a child. Taken on a hellhound. By the God, no wonder Ben had assured him she’d never hurt Minette.

Fuck, he’d been as blind as a drunken dwarf at dawn.

An hour later, Ryder staggered into his bathroom. Sweat had plastered his shirt to his back. Tears burned his eyes; his throat felt raw, and his hands shook as he bent over the sink to splash cold water on his face.

“By the God, bro,” he whispered. He’d far rather have his claws ripped out one by one than watch his brother put through such agony.

With a grunt of effort, he straightened. It was over. Ben would be all right, although he’d have to take it easy for a few days until the re-set bones had a chance to knit and finish healing.

Leaning on the sink, Ryder let his mind think toward the future. He wasn’t as good a crew boss as his littermate, but until Ben was back to normal, Ryder would do whatever needed to be done.

Right.

Time to check on Minette. And somehow watch over Ben as well.

Two steps outside his bedroom, he ran into someone. The soft squeak and light cinnamon-and-flower scent told him who. “Emma.”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I was… He might get chilled.” She lifted the blanket in her hand.

“You plan to sit with him.”

“Yes.” Her voice was hoarse from the tears she’d smothered. “I’m afraid he won’t call out, even if he needs something.”

“You know him well.” Ryder studied her, this little female who obviously cared for his brother. All night, with every moan Ben had made, the anguish had deepened in her face. “He’ll be pleased to have you beside him.”

Her blink of surprise at his compliment shamed him.
Time to man up, cat.
“Emma, I’m sorry for accusing you of lying. For the coldness I’ve shown you since I arrived. I hope you can forgive me.”

“O-of course.” She hesitated. “Can you tell me what I did to make you…um…”

“Be such an asshole?” By the God, he should be taken by the scruff and given a good shake. “You did nothing wrong,” he said firmly. “Aside from being female.”

“You hate me because I’m
female
?”

She sounded so appalled, he grinned. Because she deserved far better than the way he’d treated her, he tried to explain. “I’ve obviously met the wrong kind of females. And the last one”—the last one had totally screwed with his head—“was Minette’s mother.”

“Oh. I wondered.” She paused, and her brows furrowed. “How did she die?”

“Die?” His bitter laugh made the little female flinch.
Hell.
Carefully, he laid his hand on her shoulder. So soft and warm. “I’m sorry I laughed. But Genevieve isn’t dead.”

“Oh.” Her pale brows pulled together. “Then…why do you have her cub?”

“She wasn’t taking care of Minette. Genevieve craves having males waiting on her. To be the center of attention, she’ll scheme, tell tales, manipulate—and even set male against male. Minette was…inconvenient.”

“Oh.” Emma looked disgusted. Then she frowned. “So mostly because of one person, you think all females lie?”

Didn’t that make him sound like an idiot?

Accepting the hit, Ryder gave her a rueful smile. “I didn’t catch on until now how distrustful I’ve become. But, yeah, with everything a single female says, I look for hidden meanings and lies.”

“That’s not good.” Her eyes lit with hope—for him? Damn, she was cute. “But you know now you’ve got a problem with your interactions with females?”

“Yeah.” He tugged a lock of her hair in the way Ben would. “I’ll work on it. Will you help out by walloping me if I mess up?” A wallop from the little bear would be far less painful than one from the grizzly.

“Me?” She almost squeaked.

“Please?”

In wonder, he watched her straighten her spine. “Yes, of course. I’d be happy to assist.”

The shy little bear would step out of her cave because someone needed help. He really had been a dumbass.

Regarding her, now with no preconceptions, he noticed that everything about her was appealing—her straight gaze, the way she faced her problems despite her fears, how she tried to pull her own weight no matter how much her leg hurt, how she cared for Minette, her joy when she was singing.

And more than anything, the way her kindness flowed from her like a blessed fountain.

‡

B
en’s shoulder felt
as if a dwarf was excavating it with a pointed pickax. Pain or not, he was fucking starving. Time to raid the kitchen.

With a grunt of effort, he managed to sit up in his bed. He cursed as the sling Donal insisted he wear slipped sideways and pulled painfully.

“What are you
doing
?” Leaning on her cane, Emma stood in the doorway.

“What’s up, honey bear?” His question came out jagged as hemlock bark.

Glowering, she limped into the room—and he didn’t…really… notice the way her hips filled her jeans. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Fuck, she was cute. And he inwardly cheered when her emotions swept away her shyness. “Sun’s up.”

“But…but you nearly died.” She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you
dare
move. Donal said you were to stay in bed this morning.”

He planned to ignore the idiotic restriction. Although he might have to skip work for a day or two. Thank the Mother that Ryder’d volunteered to oversee the crews—and the poor cat would hate every second of being forced to interact with others.

“I’ll be good,” Ben said. “If you bring me some breakfast.”

“Already prepared. The Cosantir arrived and said he’d carry it upstairs.” She bit her lip…her very soft, curved lip. “A Cosantir shouldn’t perform such a lowly task.”