Something that made him uneasy.
He inhaled deeply, homing in on the rancid note that reminded him of the bubbling cauldrons of death potions his parents were always whipping up for clients.
Then it clicked.
Shit.
“Get out!” he shouted. “Evacuate!” When Grim stood there like a dipshit, Tavin shoved him. “Fucking go. Why am I always saving your ass?”
Gem flung the curtain open as staff and patients alike scrambled in confusion or stood frozen in place. It was a real-time demonstration of fight, flight, or freeze. He gestured frantically toward the parking lot exit. “Run! There’s a bomb!”
“Wait!” Deja grabbed the patient’s gurney and kicked at the brakes. “Help me!”
Tavin snagged her elbow and tugged at her. “Leave him!”
She looked at him like he was a monster. She wasn’t wrong. “But the patient!”
That rancid odor filled the room and his mouth, and he nearly gagged. They were out of time.
“The patient is the bomb!” He gave up trying to convince her and flung them both toward the exit.
They were nearly there, almost at the door, when the air shimmered. Oh, shi—
A concussive shock slammed into him. Pain ripped through his back and neck. His world became a blur of black blobs and bright pinpoints of light, swirled with a lot of crimson.
When the pink mist settled and his eyes found focus, Deja’s face was so close, their noses nearly touched. She was pinned beneath him, her slender thigh wedged between his. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t understand.
“…are…Tavin?” She pounded on his shoulder. Whatever she wanted seemed urgent. It occurred to him that he should care more, but his brain didn’t seem to be working right. “Can you…in…hey…hear me? Bleeding bad…”
His lungs burned, and he realized he couldn’t breathe. Pain clamped down all around him, swallowing him whole. For a second, as he gasped futilely for a breath, he thought he was dying. But that couldn’t be true.
Because as his vision faded, it wasn’t his life that flashed before his eyes.
What flashed before his eyes in those final, sort-of-lucid moments, were all the lives he’d taken.
Chapter 4
A million things churned in Deja’s mind as the hospital erupted in chaos. Gore dripped down the walls and hung in shiny, wet strings from medical equipment and light fixtures. Jagged shards of bone penetrated the ceiling, doors…people. Pained moans and horrified screams mingled with the ringing in her ears.
The ringing seemed odd, given there hadn’t been an explosion. Not a loud one, anyway. All she remembered was a concussion of force and blunt pain as Tavin came down on top of her.
Tavin.
Holy shit, the asshole had actually shielded her from the blast and saved her life.
Seriously? The guy who had buried a blade in her heart and watched her bleed out…had saved her life?
What the fuck?
The next moments were a blur, but she was well aware of Tavin’s heavy weight on top of her, and his blond head resting against her cheek as his unconscious body sagged.
He still smelled the way she remembered, of ancient forests and the smoky Islay whisky he favored.
Then hands pulled him away, and the stench of blood and bowels and the bitter, acrid notes of pain and terror replaced Tavin’s masculine scent.
Voices blended together, and Gem’s face got all up in hers.
“Are you okay?” Gem snapped her fingers. “Deja? Can you hear me? Blink if you understand what I’m saying.”
Blink. Right. Okay. She blinked. “I’m…okay,” she rasped.
Gem’s eyes narrowed into concerned slits as she flashed a penlight into Deja’s eyes. “Do you know where you are?”
“I’m at Underworld General. My name is Deja, the king of Hell is Revenant, it’s June nineteenth, and I’m fine, to answer your next questions. Others need you more.” She tried to sit up, but Gem’s hand on her shoulder held her down.
“Excuse me.” Gem arched a dark eyebrow. “Does first-day nurse think she knows more than fifteen-year doctor?”
Deja’s cheeks went hot with mortification. “Sorry. I just—”
“It’s okay. Shit’s chaotic, and you just experienced a shock.” Gem smiled, taking more sting out of her rebuke. “I just want you to stay still. No moving until we know you don’t have a spinal injury. You landed pretty hard.”
Next to her, another Seminus demon in a black paramedic uniform was attending to Tavin, who was still unconscious, lying on his belly, with a dozen shards of what she guessed were bones sticking out of him.
“Is he going to be okay?” She would be pissed if he died before she got to kill him.
“Shade’s the best,” Gem assured her. “Tavin’s in good hands. Now, relax while we get you stabilized and checked out.”
Deja wasn’t sure how long she lay there getting poked and prodded by multiple staff members, including the Seminus demon Gem had called Shade. He was the one who’d pronounced her free of major injuries and finally let her sit up.
Gem helped her to her feet, and she groaned as she took her first steps. The impact on the floor had been harder than she’d thought, and her back and hips were killing her.
“Hold on.” Gem pulled her aside, next to a commercial-fridge-sized iron cage that was out of the way of the mayhem. She reached out, her hands stopping short of Deja’s face. “May I?”
Confused but not willing to risk another infraction on her first day of work, Deja nodded, and the doctor probed her cheekbones, jaw, and neck with her gloved fingers. “Looks like you escaped relatively unscathed.”
Thanks to Tavin. Not that she would admit that out loud.
Why had he done that? He might be a paramedic, faking caring about people, but she knew the truth about him. He was a cold-blooded killer.
“But,” Gem said softly, “you have a lot of old scars.”
Jolted out of her thoughts about Tavin, Deja stared at the black-and-purple-haired female in front of her, seeing more than a senior physician at Underworld General. For the first time, she noticed the tattoos encircling Gem’s neck and wrists. She went cold.
Those were spells.
Containment spells.
What was the doctor keeping imprisoned inside her? And what did she see when she looked at Deja? Deja’s body was flawless, another trick of the enchanted necklace. It hid the dozens of scars she’d gotten over the course of a violent life among the Neethul people. Scars Tavin had mapped with his fingers and mouth during their relationship. Scars she’d given him the bloody details about, one by one.
Mouth inexplicably dry, Deja croaked, “I don’t know what you mean.”
Gem gave her a don’t-bullshit-me look. “I’m half Soulshredder. I can see scars others can’t. Physical and emotional ones.”
Soulshredder? Deja’s pulse fluttered, and her mouth might as well have been full of sand. Few demon species matched let alone exceeded sadistic Neethul cruelty, but Soulshredders were one of those species. “I’m still…” She sucked in an unsteady breath. “I’m still not sure what you mean.”
“I mean that I can see a painful past. You’ve been hurt.” Gem lowered her voice as a couple of staff members rushed by. “And I can see beyond your glamour. I don’t know why you would conceal your natural features, but you’re beautiful either way.”