Circle of Desire (Damask Circle 3)

He caught her before she could whack her head on the ground, gently lowering her the last few inches. He took a deep breath, then got out his phone and, against his better judgment, dialed Gwen.

“What’s happened?” she asked immediately.

“Kat’s been injured. She’s had some sort of stake thrust through her arm and—”

The old bird’s swearing cut him off. He raised his eyebrows and wondered if she’d been in the navy. She was using words that would make old sea dogs proud.

“Where are you?” she asked eventually.

He glanced at the signpost and gave her directions. “But you’ll have to catch a cab, because the keys to the rental car are in my pocket.”

“I have a rental, remember, though in this particular case, the driver can stay in his bed,” she said. “Be there in five.”

She hung up. He checked the tourniquet on Kat’s arm, and then her pulse. It was a little thready but reasonably strong. He rose and walked a little farther up the road. The source of the smell was easy enough to find. There were three bodies that he could see, and at least one other farther up the road he could smell. Somehow, she’d beaten four of them.

Shaking his head in amazement, he squatted beside the first two. She’d called them zombies, the walking dead, and that was exactly what they looked and smelled like. Bodies that had been dead for some time. As he watched, the skin on their faces seemed to be sucked closer to the bone, giving them a gaunt, skeletal appearance. An advanced rate of decomposition is what she’d said they’d go through. It looked like she wasn’t kidding.

Lights swept across the trees, approaching fast. He rose and walked back to Kat. The car skidded to a halt and Gwen climbed out.

“Did you take the stake from her arm?”

He nodded. “But she’s bleeding pretty heavily—”

“That doesn’t matter.” Gwen lowered herself beside Kat and checked her pulse, then her arm. “Good job, lad. Pick her up, and we’ll get her back to the cabin and tend that arm.”

“But shouldn’t we—”

“No. Believe me, we know what we’re doing.”

He bit down on his annoyance, but knew he had to trust that both Kat and her grandmother did know what they were talking about. If only because they might be his only chance of getting Janie back safely.

As Gwen turned the rental around and sped back to the cabin, he cradled Kat’s head on his lap. She looked absurdly young, innocent almost—which she very obviously wasn’t. He brushed the dark strands of hair from her eyes and wondered why someone like her was still single. Granted, she had an attitude she wasn’t afraid to use, but she was a stunning-looking woman. A good catch, by anyone’s standards.

Except his, because he didn’t have standards. And had no intention of ever being caught.

When they got back to the cabins, he carried her inside. Gwen pushed him gently toward the second cabin. “You strip her and put her into bed, and I’ll go fetch my medicines.”

“I don’t think she’d appreciate—”

“Don’t go getting shy on me, Ethan. You’ve seen all there is to see anyway, haven’t you?”

He stared at her, at a loss for words. He’d never met anyone as forthright and open about sex as these two seemed to be. Maybe he just had to get to the big cities more often. “This is different than sex.” It was more personal.

“Rubbish. And watch that arm doesn’t bleed all over the sheets.”

She walked away, leaving him with no option but to obey. He carried Kat into the other cabin, stripped back the comforter, and laid her down. He grabbed a couple of towels from the bathroom, placing them under her arm before he began removing the tourniquet. Amazingly enough, the wound didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore. He stripped off her clothes, trying to ignore her warm scent, trying to ignore his own reaction to the sight of her naked body.

Gwen came in and sat down on the bed. “Here,” she said, thrusting a bowl of what looked like dried herbs at him. “Hold this.”

He did as ordered, watching as she washed down the wound with a soft wet cloth. When the wound was clean, she grabbed the bowl and began packing the herbs in it. He couldn’t ever remember seeing this step in any of the first-aid manuals he’d read over the years.

“What is that you

’re using?”

“My magic mix. Kat heals fast naturally, but this will ensure no infection gets into the wound over the next couple of hours.”

“Hours? It’s going to take a week, if not more, to heal a wound like that.”