Home > Lion's Quest (A Lion's Pride #12)(13)

Lion's Quest (A Lion's Pride #12)(13)
Author: Eve Langlais

The lion had won and would want to eat its prize.

He pushed against the ground, trying to lift himself, but sharp pain sent him lying flat, and breathing hard. He closed his eyes waiting for the tearing of claws or ripping of teeth to begin.

When nothing happened, he slitted one eye open to see the lion resting on its front paws, observing him. It even shook its head before huffing hotly on him.

Mocking the dumb human. Maybe if he played dead, it would leave him alone. He wouldn’t be playing for long given his injuries were throbbing to the point he was wavering in and out of consciousness.

Which might have been why he could have sworn he heard Nora’s voice snapping, “Stay in your corner, furball.” Then more softly. “You idiot. You shouldn’t have run.”

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

“That will teach you to run away from me,” was Nora’s less than sympathetic response when he finally opened his eyes two days after she’d saved him in the tiger pit. He’d almost died. As it was, he wasn’t in great shape.

“What happened?” He groaned.

At least he wasn’t crying, which surprised her, given the extent of his injuries. She’d had to take him to an underground vet, who’d eyed the human she’d brought askance.

The verdict? Body bruised all over, with at least two broken ribs and a nose that might never sit straight again. Sexy.

“You had a bad day,” she told him.

“Feels like I got hit by a truck,” he grumbled. He hissed as he moved, and she didn’t help him. Let him suffer the consequences of his foolish actions.

He managed to sit up and lean against the headboard of the bed situated in the apartment she’d managed to score them. A nicer place than the shabby hotel of before.

“Care to explain why you were trying to feed yourself to the tiger?” she asked.

“I was tossed in there by the goons who stole my key.”

“You mean the key you took from me?” she said too sweetly. It miffed her he’d managed to steal from her in the first place.

“Don’t fucking start.”

“Oh, I will fucking start because if you hadn’t been so bloody stubborn and stupid you wouldn’t have lost it and almost died.”

“Trust me, given the way I’m hurting, I’m wishing I’d left it with you.” His dark glare challenged her.

So she mocked him. “Yeah, you should have because I wouldn’t have lost it.” Yeah, she was rubbing salt in that wound. “Did you see who did this to you?”

“Pair of guys.”

“Not helpful.”

“Yeah, you know what else isn’t helpful is you giving me attitude when what I need is fucking pain relief,” he snapped.

“You wouldn’t need anything at all if you’d not snuck off on me.”

“Be glad I did, or you’d probably be in the same shape as me, or worse.”

“Doubtful.” It was never more evident how good shifter genes were than when looking at the human who was a mass of contusions that would take weeks to heal. Under normal circumstances.

She’d had to call on some Pride connections to get her hands on military-grade, top-secret salve to speed up the process. The ribs were already knitted together, although not solidly. That would take a while longer so he should avoid blows to the chest. His bruising had reached the yellow stage where it was almost gone. But the cure took a toll, sucking every ounce of energy from his body, leaving him with no body fat and muscles that would ache until he ate and rid himself of the dehydration.

“Do you have some acetaminophen? Something? Whiskey?” he asked, flexing his arm and clenching his fist as if trying to bring back circulation on a sleeping limb.

“No booze, but I do have electrolytes.” Recommended by the vet. She tossed the bottle at him, but his currently slow reflexes meant it hit him in the stomach. He grimaced, and then it hit the floor.

“Oops.” She felt bad and handed him an unmarked bottle pulled from her back pocket. “Don’t take too many, or you’ll be catching little birdies and drooling.”

He opened the jar and shook a pair of pills into his hand. He dry-swallowed them with a grimace.

She handed him the fluids. He chugged it and made an even bigger face. “The after-taste is ass.”

“The correct answer is ‘thank you for having this ready for me and for taking care of me while I was unconscious.’”

“How long was I out?”

“Two days.”

He blinked at her. “Well fuck.” He glanced at himself, the scrubs he wore, and turned red.

“I haven’t been caring for you that entire time. The vet only released you to me a few hours ago.”

“Vet?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I think we need to back up a bit. Let’s start with how you found me.”

“Just followed my nose.” She tapped it, knowing the truth would be the least likely thing he believed.

“More like followed my phone. I can’t believe I was so stupid as to bring it along. Good news is it’s gone now.” He leaned back and closed his eyes.

“I guess that explains why your sister keeps texting me.”

“You’ve heard from Charlie?”

“Every day, multiple times a day. Apparently, when Arik said my mission with you was hush-hush, that didn’t include her.”

“Who is Arik?”

“No one.” She blamed fatigue for her loose tongue. Two days of watching and worrying as the medically induced coma kept him in a state where the rapid healing wouldn’t make him scream murder.

“Am I to understand you don’t know my sister?”

“I do now. Speaking of whom, she’d love to hear from you.” She handed him her phone, and he looked horrified.

“You idiot. Did you not hear what I said about being tracked via my phone? Get rid of it before they trace it to you. To me.”

She snorted. “Not all of us were stupid enough to bring along an unsecured cellular device. For a criminal, you’re not very criminally.”

“Says the lady with black market tech in her hand.”

“Is that jealousy I hear because my toys are better than yours?”

“Your bedside manner sucks,” was his sulky reply.

“Don’t make me get you some cheese for that whine.”

“I’m allowed to complain. I almost died. By the way, how did you get me out of the tiger pen before those cats ate me?”

“Not easily. You’re a heavy dude.”

He snorted then winced. “As if you carried me out.”

“You calling me a wimp?”

“I’m saying I outweigh you by at least forty or fifty pounds.”

“And? It’s all in the technique. Or is your arguing more because your chauvinistic ass can’t handle a woman saved you?”

He made a moue of annoyance. “I’m injured. Must you turn all feminist on me?”

“Don’t be a caveman and I won’t have to. You could be a little more grateful considering I saved your ass.”

“Thank you. I was in a bad spot.”

“Not sure how much worse it could have gotten. It’s a miracle you’re alive.”

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