against the wound to prevent any blood from giving away his trail as he made a zigzag path through the deepest part of the swamp. If someone wanted to try to follow him, he wasn’t going to make it easy.
It took nearly an hour before he finally finished his attempts to throw off any pursuers and circled back to Bailey’s cottage.
Not surprisingly, he’d barely reached the edge of the barrier when the door was thrown open and Bailey rushed toward him.
Her talents as a healer would have warned her that there was an injured high-blood in the area.
“Mika.” Wrapping her arm around his waist, she led him through the magical shield and across the spongy ground into the welcoming comfort of her kitchen. “Damn you. I told you to be careful.”
Bailey was furious.
She’d been pacing the floor since the moment that Mika had left, a ball of dread lodged in the pit of her stomach.
He could call her impulsive and headstrong, but she wasn’t the one who was always charging into danger. And she certainly never thought of herself as invincible.
No, that was Mika.
And now he was hurt.
Dragging him across the linoleum floor, she pressed him into a chair and hurried to gather her supplies.
“It’s nothing, little one,” he assured her, pulling away the wadded-up shirt to reveal the wound that continued to leak blood. “Just a scratch.”
She placed the leather bag on the table, opening it to pull out an antiseptic and some gauze.
“It’s not a scratch, it’s a bullet wound,” she growled, carefully cleansing the narrow gouge in his flesh with a practiced expertise.
Inside she was battling against the pure terror that was threatening to overwhelm her.
God. He’d been shot.
She could have lost him.
She abruptly dropped the gauze, her legs threatening to collapse.
Mika reached up to grasp her hand, bringing it to his lips so he could press a kiss to the center of her palm.
“I was grazed, nothing more.”
“You were shot at,” she said between clenched teeth.
“Yes.” He casually glanced toward the wound, which was already healing. “Hazard of the job.”
She sucked in a pained breath. “Don’t.”
He frowned, slowly rising to his feet as he sensed her distress.
“Bailey?”
“Don’t you dare tease about putting yourself in danger.”
He grimaced, reaching to cup her pale cheek in his hand. “I’m sorry, little one, it wasn’t deliberate,” he assured her, his starkly beautiful face softening with a genuine concern. “I’ve called Wolfe to send more Sentinels. I won’t go back alone.”
She bit her bottom lip, reaching up to place her hand over the injury.
“Let me heal you.”
Focusing her powers, Bailey sent small pulses of healing energy from her hand into his damaged flesh, acutely aware of his dark gaze that was examining her face with a fierce intensity.
“Is this why?”
“Why what?”
“Why you left?” he asked, his voice husky with emotion. “Because my job puts me in danger?”
She stiffened at the unexpected question, feeling the instinctive urge to scurry behind her façade of the free-spirited hippie who refused to settle down.
That was her comfort zone, after all.
But standing so close to Mika, she could see the bone-deep pain that shimmered in his dark eyes and feel the slight tremor in the hand that was pressed to her face.
Dammit. She’d wasted too many years.
It was past time for a little honesty.
“It bothers me. The thought you could be hurt or even . . .” She shivered, her hand no longer healing as it smoothed over the chiseled muscles of his shoulder. She needed to reassure herself he was alive and relatively well. Besides, she loved to stroke his skin. Heated silk. “Hell, I can’t even say the word,” she rasped. “But I understood that was the cost of being with a Sentinel.”
His thumb stoked her lower lip. “But?”
“I—” She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Bailey?”
“I told myself it was because I felt
It took nearly an hour before he finally finished his attempts to throw off any pursuers and circled back to Bailey’s cottage.
Not surprisingly, he’d barely reached the edge of the barrier when the door was thrown open and Bailey rushed toward him.
Her talents as a healer would have warned her that there was an injured high-blood in the area.
“Mika.” Wrapping her arm around his waist, she led him through the magical shield and across the spongy ground into the welcoming comfort of her kitchen. “Damn you. I told you to be careful.”
Bailey was furious.
She’d been pacing the floor since the moment that Mika had left, a ball of dread lodged in the pit of her stomach.
He could call her impulsive and headstrong, but she wasn’t the one who was always charging into danger. And she certainly never thought of herself as invincible.
No, that was Mika.
And now he was hurt.
Dragging him across the linoleum floor, she pressed him into a chair and hurried to gather her supplies.
“It’s nothing, little one,” he assured her, pulling away the wadded-up shirt to reveal the wound that continued to leak blood. “Just a scratch.”
She placed the leather bag on the table, opening it to pull out an antiseptic and some gauze.
“It’s not a scratch, it’s a bullet wound,” she growled, carefully cleansing the narrow gouge in his flesh with a practiced expertise.
Inside she was battling against the pure terror that was threatening to overwhelm her.
God. He’d been shot.
She could have lost him.
She abruptly dropped the gauze, her legs threatening to collapse.
Mika reached up to grasp her hand, bringing it to his lips so he could press a kiss to the center of her palm.
“I was grazed, nothing more.”
“You were shot at,” she said between clenched teeth.
“Yes.” He casually glanced toward the wound, which was already healing. “Hazard of the job.”
She sucked in a pained breath. “Don’t.”
He frowned, slowly rising to his feet as he sensed her distress.
“Bailey?”
“Don’t you dare tease about putting yourself in danger.”
He grimaced, reaching to cup her pale cheek in his hand. “I’m sorry, little one, it wasn’t deliberate,” he assured her, his starkly beautiful face softening with a genuine concern. “I’ve called Wolfe to send more Sentinels. I won’t go back alone.”
She bit her bottom lip, reaching up to place her hand over the injury.
“Let me heal you.”
Focusing her powers, Bailey sent small pulses of healing energy from her hand into his damaged flesh, acutely aware of his dark gaze that was examining her face with a fierce intensity.
“Is this why?”
“Why what?”
“Why you left?” he asked, his voice husky with emotion. “Because my job puts me in danger?”
She stiffened at the unexpected question, feeling the instinctive urge to scurry behind her façade of the free-spirited hippie who refused to settle down.
That was her comfort zone, after all.
But standing so close to Mika, she could see the bone-deep pain that shimmered in his dark eyes and feel the slight tremor in the hand that was pressed to her face.
Dammit. She’d wasted too many years.
It was past time for a little honesty.
“It bothers me. The thought you could be hurt or even . . .” She shivered, her hand no longer healing as it smoothed over the chiseled muscles of his shoulder. She needed to reassure herself he was alive and relatively well. Besides, she loved to stroke his skin. Heated silk. “Hell, I can’t even say the word,” she rasped. “But I understood that was the cost of being with a Sentinel.”
His thumb stoked her lower lip. “But?”
“I—” She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Bailey?”
“I told myself it was because I felt
Similar Books
