Evanne Lorraine
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Second sneak peek from COLIN, Demons Hunters I

December 13, 2013 | Fan Friday

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A glint of pain flashed in her amazing green eyes. The wounded look changed to cool determination so fast he wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined her hurt. While the idea he’d injured her made him feel like belly crawling was too good for him, there was still no way he could explain why he’d left the club so abruptly, what he’d been doing, or how he’d gotten wounded. The less she knew about him and his world, the better for her safety.

Uneasiness coiled in his belly at the reminder that he didn’t have a fucking clue about how much she knew.

“Either you take it off, or I cut it off, your choice, Sir.”

He might have imagined her hurt, but his sweet little slave made her anger clear.

“Wait here.” He crossed to the bedroom, but she stayed on his heels. Since he didn’t have the energy to put on demon speed, he veered to the bathroom.

She followed him.

“Give me a minute.” He added enough compulsion to make the average sub jump back and kowtow.

Holly flinched, but shook her head stubbornly. “Not while you’re bleeding. Either I assess your injury, or I’m calling 911. Your choice, Sir.”

Worst-case scenario slid into disaster territory. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on how to get Holly out of his apartment without involving human emergency services.

“Please, let me look at the wound. The moment I’m certain you’re stable, I’ll leave. Fair enough, Sir?”
Yeah, she’d softened her tone, but she was still serious, and he was big trouble, because she was fucking irresistible. He nodded, eased off the heavy leather coat, folded it, and placed it on the counter. The dress shirt was already trashed, so he pulled a small pair of scissors out of a drawer and handed them do her.

“Dear God, where all are you cut?”

“My arm, just my arm.” His lips thinned in self-loathing. “Most of the blood isn’t mine.”

Making good use of the scissors, she snipped, peeled away the neatly trimmed sleeve, and then unwound the sash he’d used to stanch the blood loss. At least he’d already stashed his weapons inside his long coat, or she’d be asking worse questions.

“Alcohol wipes, tape, gauze?”

“Left side of the medicine cabinet.”

“You need stitches.” Her pretty mouth tightened with determination.

He shook off her comment. “It’s a scratch.”

“It’s not a scratch. You’ll be lucky to retain full use of the arm. Tetanus booster up-to-date?”

“Yes.” Colin didn’t bother explaining he was immune to human diseases.

She opened the left cabinet door. Her eyes narrowed at the well-stocked shelves. Then she began to select supplies. “Is surgery a hobby of yours, or this kind of knife-wound business as usual for you?”

“A little of both.” The truth slipped out of his mouth.

After she’d scrubbed her hands and forearms way more thoroughly than he would have bothered, she snapped on a pair of sterile gloves with enough energy to make him wince. “Are you a…” She shook her head. “Never mind. I really do not want to know.”

That was the first smart choice she’d made all night. He wisely kept that thought to himself.

“This is going to hurt.” She swabbed his upper arm with Betadine, which stung worse than the rogue’s poison-coated claws.

“The cut goes down to the bone. It really needs stitches. Do you have a local anesthetic?”

“Butterfly tape works fine.” That comment earned him another narrow-eyed glare, but she applied the tape closures and then carefully wrapped his wound in gauze.

He opened his mouth to thank her for the help, and she stuck a thermometer under his tongue. Relief that she wasn’t leaving, yet, kept him silent. Besides, he still hadn’t figured out what to do about her.

Leave her alone was the obvious answer, but he didn’t like it. She didn’t know anything about him other than he was a member of a BDSM club, liked to tie up pretty women, acted like an arrogant asshole, and got in fights. Too bad his covert life was nowhere near that simple.

Posted by Evanne @ 4:00 am  

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