Blood Bound by Patricia Briggs Page B

assessment that I would neither be turned into a vampire nor be subject to Littleton’s control.
    I took out my hydrogen peroxide and dabbed it over the wounds, hissing at the sting. It didn’t make me feel any cleaner. I took the bottle into the shower with me and poured the contents on my neck until the bottle was empty. Then I scrubbed.
    The blood was soon gone, though it had turned the water at my feet rusty for a few seconds. But no matter how much soap and shampoo I used, I still felt dirty. The more I scrubbed the more frantic I felt. Littleton hadn’t raped me, but he’d violated my body just the same. The thought of his mouth on me made my stomach churn again.
    I stood under the hot spray until the water was cold.

Chapter 3
    My bedroom was empty and the door to the closet was shut when I finally emerged from the bathroom. I glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes to make it to the garage if I was going to open on time.
    I was glad no one was there to hear me grunt and groan as I got dressed. No one alive to hear me, anyway.
    Every muscle in my body ached, especially my right shoulder, and as soon as I bent down to pull on my socks and shoes, the battered side of my face started to throb. It would hurt me even more, though, if I lost customers because I wasn’t open at my usual time.
    I opened the bedroom door and Samuel looked up from where he’d been sitting on the couch. He’d been up all night, too; he ought to have gone to bed instead of waiting up to frown at me. He got up and pulled an ice pack out of the freezer.
    â€œHere, put this on your face.”
    It felt good and I sagged against the doorway to enjoy the numbness it brought to my throbbing cheek.
    â€œI called Zee and told him what happened,” Samuel told me. “You can go to bed. Zee’s planning on working the shop for you today. He said he could do it tomorrow, too, if you need him.”
    Siebold Adelbertsmiter, known to his friends as Zee, was a good mechanic, the best. He’d taught me everything I know, then sold the garage to me. He was also fae—and the first person I’d intended to go to for information on sorcerers.
    Even though he sometimes filled in for me when I was sick, I hadn’t even thought about calling him for help with the garage—proof that it would probably be better if I didn’t try going to work today.
    â€œYou’re swaying,” said Samuel after a moment. “Go to bed. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
    â€œThank you,” I mumbled before shutting myself back in my room.
    I flopped facedown on my bed, groaned because that hurt my face again. I rolled until I was more comfortable, covered my head with my pillow and dozed for a while, maybe for all of half an hour.
    I could smell Stefan.
    It wasn’t that he smelled bad—he just smelled like himself, sort of vampire and popcorn. But I couldn’t get his statement about being dead during the day out of my head. Ugh. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep with a dead man in my closet.
    â€œThanks, Stefan,” I told him glumly as I heaved my sore body out of bed. If I couldn’t sleep, I might as well go to work. I opened the door to the living room, expecting it to be empty, since Samuel had been up all night, too.
    Instead he was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee with Adam, the local Alpha werewolf, who happened to live on the other side of my back fence.
    I hadn’t heard Adam come in. Once Samuel started sharing my house, I’d become careless. I should have realized that he would come over as soon as Samuel called him, though—and, of course, Samuel had to call him about the bloodbath at the hotel. Adam was the Alpha, and responsible for the welfare of all the werewolves in the area.
    They both looked at me when I opened my door.
    I was tempted to turn around and go back into my bedroom with the dead man in my closet. Now, I’m not very