The three of them helped him get back to the room. Merc mentally opened the door and locked it behind him. His friends helped him remove his weapons and strip as he crossed the room to the bathroom. He thought he’d gone unnoticed until he heard Ash gasp. He was too weak to stop her from coming forward, but one of the guys forced her to stay put. It was all he could do to get into the shower, even with the help from his friends. Guerre had him numbed, shielding him from the pain of the streaming water, but his body was still in shock. Merc leaned a hand against the shower wall and bowed his head. He wasn’t strong enough to stand. Someone was supporting him.
Liege.
Tell me if you need us to come down there, Liege said.
It took Merc a couple of breaths to summon the strength to answer, even though their communication was mental. Don’t need you.
If you die, Ash will too. They won’t let her come back home.
I know. And if he lived and convinced her to love him, she would also die. Either way, his time was up, but hers didn’t have to be. He had to survive long enough to get her back where Liege could protect her.
She’s yours to protect. Not mine, Liege said.
She’s one of your daughter’s best friends. You will protect her.
I’m done with this death wish of yours.
Too fucking bad.
You’re no good to the Legion with one foot in the grave, Merc.
I’m done.
You’re done when I tell you you’re done.
Merc shook his head. There’s nothing left in my heart.
Then fill your heart with Ash.
Ash roused from a deep sleep. Merc was back. He’d come in without knocking. She watched him move in an odd way across their room, as if he were leaning on something she couldn’t see. Shadows striped his back like light through blinds.
She couldn’t move. She was frozen again, in that awful sleep paralysis—she could see but not sit up. She struggled to clear her mind and her body, until at last she was able to toss the sheet off and cross the room. The shower was running. She reached for Merc’s clothes, then dropped them and recoiled in shock. They were shredded and covered with blood.
As she watched, a red swirl appeared above his torn shirt, passed over his pants and other clothes, and spiraled into the bathroom through the crack under the door. When she looked at his shirt next, the blood was gone from the shredded mess of his shirt.
She shook her head. She had to be dreaming. A nightmare. A weird, very real, movie-like nightmare. She went into the bathroom and flipped the light on. Merc was in the shower, his face pressed in the corner, his arms hanging loosely beside him. His back looked like he’d been mauled by a big and powerful animal.
Maybe a jaguar. Or a bear. Something with wicked-long claws.
“Merc! Oh, God. Merc.” Ash rushed to him in the shower, at a complete loss as to how to help him. He seemed barely able to keep himself upright. “Let me help you.”
“Go to bed, Ash. I don’t need you.”
Ash looked at the blood washing off his body, pooling at his feet. “You’re right. You need an ambulance and an emergency room.” Neither of which were amenities the village offered.
“No.”
“Merc, what attacked you?” This was very real. No way could it have been part of whatever game he was playing here—unless the game had taken him someplace dangerous.
Merc’s answer was an unintelligible grunt. He turned as if to leave the shower. Ash shut off the water then reached for a towel, but had no idea how to dry him off with such terrible wounds.
“Don’t. They have me.”
Oh. No. He was delirious. This was not good. They were hours from a town with any kind of medical service. She tucked herself under his shoulder, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and half supporting him with her hand in his armpit—she didn’t know where on his back to touch. “We’ll just get to the bed. Then I can have a look at you.”
Merc collapsed facedown on the bed, taking up the whole thing with his arms and legs spread wide. Ash flipped the light on. His back was even worse than she’d thought. The gashes were inches wide and very deep. There were four main ones and a few smaller ones. There was a big bite mark on his shoulder. What she couldn’t understand was that the bleeding had somehow stopped. The wounds were already scabbing over.
This was not a good place to have an injury like this. The bed, the room—none of it was sterile. But if she tried to transport him, and he went deeper into shock, the trip might kill him.
Ash knelt on the floor and touched his face. He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Tell me what to do. I don’t know how to help you.”
“Curl up next to me.”
“That’s not going to help.”
“It’ll make me feel safer.”
Ash huffed a breath. “I’ll be no help at all if whatever did this to you comes back for you.”
“It’s not coming here. And Guerre is already healing me. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
Ash shook her head. She tried to argue, but he was stubbornly set on doing nothing. And then he reached a beefy arm out and dragged her up next to him, turning her so that her back was against his side.
She tried to pull free, but his arm tightened around her waist. “Stay. Just until I’m asleep.”
“Merc—“
“Please.”
She quit resisting him. It occurred to her that he was holding her like a kid did a favorite stuffed animal. There was nothing sexual or aggressive in the way he pinned her to his side. No, it was purely for the comfort of human contact.
She relaxed against him. Minutes passed before his grip eased. She waited another ten minutes before slipping away. When she was free, she grabbed her phone. The light was still on next to the bed. She snapped a pic of his back and texted it to Summer.
A moment later, Summer called. Ash went into the bathroom so she wouldn’t disturb Merc.
“Ash—you okay?” Summer asked.
“I am. Merc’s not. He’s been mauled by some animal. He needs medical attention. I don’t know what to do.”
“Wait. Let me get Sam. Hold on.”
“Ash.” Sam’s deep voice came over the line. Just hearing him began to calm Ash’s panicked mind. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
“No, it’s not, Sam. Merc needs stitches. He needs antibiotics and rabies shots. The town needs to be alerted before whatever mauled Merc hurts someone else.”
“No. The best thing you can do for him—the only thing you can do for him—is to lie down next to him so he knows he’s not alone.”
“Sam—did you see the picture I sent?”
“Yes. Everything is going to be okay. You are safe. He’s safe. We’ve got this.”
A terrible thought entered Ash’s mind: this had happened as part of the game they were playing. Of course Sam didn’t want her to spill the beans and get the outside world involved.
“I don’t care about your fucking game, Sam. Merc might be dying.”
“He’s not dying. Shut off the lights. And go lie down with him.” The line went dead.
Ash complied with his directives, feeling oddly numb. She was crying, but she was also filled with a warmth that told her everything was going to be all right. None of it made sense. She shut off the lights and climbed in next to Merc. He groaned when she lifted his arm over her waist, and then he shifted so that his head was on her chest. She pressed her lips to the top of his forehead.