No, Asa didn’t know, but the sound of her voice was comforting and calming. It lessened the pain in his side and soothed the ache in his soul.
“You’ve got two rounds in you. I’ll take those out and staunch the bleeding. They seem to be doing more damage than Freyja’s Redemption. The bolt’s only gone through some solid muscle. It’s not even bleeding.”
A pulling and tugging on his skin followed, then the sensation of cold metal entering his flesh, poking around. The sound of metal clanking against metal told him she’d found one of the bullets with the forceps.
“Got it.” Her words confirmed it. Seconds later. “Voila!” Her voice was softly exuberant. “Now, for the next one.”
Good job, Asa thought, oddly proud of the woman he didn’t know but was strangely attracted to. The woman who’d managed to somehow calm his wolf—or maybe vanquish it—by shooting him. She’d given him peace.
Maybe after all these years, he’d have one uneventful night of sleep.
She poured alcohol over the forceps, then inserted them back into his flesh, the sensation cold and jarring. As soon as the forceps touched the bullet, a zinger of pain flashed through him. He arched his back as a half-howl, half-yelp was wrenched from his chest.
Chapter Six
The wolf stiffened, made a strange—almost but not quite howling—sound, then collapsed, completely limp.
“Shit. I’m sorry. By the gods, I—” Emme placed her hand on the wolf’s chest. “Did I kill you? By Freyja, I better not have.”
Not only because he was the key to finding Eira, but also because there was something about the wolf. No, about the man. She was thinking crazy. Clearly, she was sleep deprived from looking for Eira all these days and not getting nearly enough rest.
“Breathe, damn you. Breathe.” She couldn’t feel anything. His chest was still. How could that be? She didn’t… Did she? Could she have killed him?
“You. Will. Not. Die.”
She held her hand to his nose. Nothing. Chest not moving. Panic set in. Adrenalin surged.
“Damnation.”
Think. Think. Think. Don’t you dare lose your shit. Think.
He was the answer to Eira. She could not let him die.
Did he have a pulse? How would she even feel it? Where would she find it? She placed her hand on his chest. No heartbeat there. What about a major artery? Yeah, no clue where to find one.
Would doggy CPR work on him? She’d seen that done on a video once. Could she?
What’s to lose?
She straightened his head and neck, placed her palms, one over the other, on his ribcage at the widest part, close to the heart, and did firm, quick compressions, careful not to overdo it. How fast? How much? Hell if she knew, but she wasn’t going to let this wolf—or Asa Wulfsen—die.
She was on autopilot, not registering what she was doing, merely taking the measures to keep this man and his wolf alive.
A sound, like a sigh, made her pause. She put her head to the wolf’s matted chest.
There it was!
“Praise be to Freyja.” Tears slipped out, unexpected.
She proceeded to clean the wolf’s fur, wiping gently. She wouldn’t mess with the bolt right now. Maybe he’d been through enough trauma. Once the wolf was as clean as she could get him, she tidied up the area, cleaning the floor with paper towels, tossing out bloody bandages. She changed out of her soiled garments into warmer attire.
Glancing out the window, she noticed the Hummer. She slipped outside. She grabbed the keys—where they’d landed when Asa threw them—and spied his phone on the charger in the console. Collecting it, she locked the vehicle and went back inside to wait out his recovery, hoping it would be speedy. Wishing the same for his shifting back to his human and telling her where her sister was.
The afternoon passed, as did the evening, which turned into night, all throughout which she’d sat nearby on the sofa and waited. It was now well past midnight, and she was tired. After laying some cushions and pillows from the sofa down by the wolf, using one to cradle his head, she put a bowl of water nearby, in case he awakened, then she went up to the loft. There was no point in staying down here and watching the wolf rest and recuperate. She’d need rest for when he came to and shifted into his human skin.
Emme’s eyes flew open. She immediately knew where she was and what she was in the midst of. The wolf! She took the ladder stairs two at a time climbing down from the loft and bounded across the room to the sofa to check on—
He was a man!
He’d shifted into his human form and lay on the floor, the bolt still in his shoulder. His eyes opened.
“Thank you.” His voice was a painful groan.
“I’d have removed the bolt, but…” She shrugged. How to even explain this? “You died.”
He blinked. “Died?”
“Yeah, I had to do CPR.” Still in disbelief over that, she shook her head. “I’d seen someone do CPR on a dog, so I figured maybe I could do the same.”
His face scrunched. “Dog CPR?” He coughed. “Wolves are not fond of being compared to dogs.” He struggled to sit up then back-crawled until he was propped against the wall. Wincing, he touched the bolt then pierced her with an amber-tinted gaze. “Why is it that you’re not freaked out that I shifted into a wolf? Why did you stay around?”
“Why did you say my sister’s name?”
Chapter Seven
“Eira’s your sister?” He studied her. The red hair, not as deep a red as Eira’s. The violet eyes which had been black when she’d flung her glasses to the ground. Definitely like Eira’s. Her face definitely resembled Eira’s. “Is that who you’re searching for?” And most importantly, that would answer why she didn’t lose her shit when he’d shifted. She’d stayed and nursed him. Hell, she’d given him CPR. “Did that CPR include mouth-to-mouth?” He strove for some humor though the rod was still driving surges of pain through his shoulder.
She grimaced. “No. I didn’t put my lips on a wolf’s.”
He chuckled then winced from the pain. “You’re Valkyrie.”
She said naught, her face immobile. “What happened to my sister?”
“She’s safe.”
Her hands clenched into fists. Her jawline tightened. “That means nothing to me. You’re a stranger.”
“Pull this bolt out of my shoulder.”
She glared at him, unmoving. “My sister.”
“Listen. We’ll call her on my phone, as soon as you pull this thing out of my shoulder, for fuck’s sake. Why the hell did you shoot me, anyway?”
“It appeared you were aiming the pistol at me. Reflex.” Her face showed no sign of apology, nor did she offer one.
It came into focus for him, then. She was merely doing what she’d been conditioned to do. No more, no less, there were no feelings behind her actions. She was well trained and ruthless. And by damn, in so many ways, it reminded him of Eira.
He nodded toward the bolt. “Please.”
She leaned down, collected an item from the sofa, and held it up for him to see. “I can call her myself.”