Crooked Shadows--A Vampire Bodyguard Romance by M.A. Grant

Author:M.A. Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2021-09-27T13:07:24+00:00

Chapter Nine

The only benefit of the village’s small size was how easily they found a room at the only bed-and-breakfast on the edge of town. Tourist season was over, and the owner was more than happy to offer them a place to stay for as long as they needed. Cristian dealt with the check-in. Despite the steady ache of his injured wrist hidden beneath his jacket sleeve, he engaged in friendly banter and made sure to keep all the attention on him. Meanwhile, Atlas shuffled off to their room with their bags, avoiding any awkward questions about his more obvious injuries.

When Cristian finally excused himself and retreated to their room, he found Atlas frowning and pulling all the curtains shut. One of the beds was missing its top blanket, and a quick glance into the small bathroom showed the blanket now served as a makeshift window covering in there as well.

“You’ve been busy,” Cristian commented. He toed off his shoes near Atlas’s at the door to avoid tracking mud everywhere.

Atlas looked back over his shoulder and frowned. “Will this be enough?”

“It’ll be fine,” Cristian assured him. He settled down on one of the two beds and peeled off his jacket. The wound left by the silver garrote sent pulses of pain through his hand and up his arm when it was exposed to the air. He couldn’t hide his wince, and it brought Atlas to him in an instant.

“Let me see,” he murmured. He took up Cristian’s hand like it was some rare, breakable thing, and gently manipulated his arm to examine the whole red, weeping line burnt into his skin.

Cristian tried to distract himself from the pain by checking the wound at Atlas’s temple. It had already stopped bleeding, and he’d cleaned away most of the blood. Satisfied that Atlas had taken care of himself for the time being, Cristian started counting the furrows of his brow, which grew more pronounced as his frown deepened.

“This looks awful,” Atlas said. “What can we do?”

“You already did enough by getting in her way,” Cristian said, delicately pulling out of Atlas’s grip. “It’s a ligature mark, not an open wound. If the silver had gotten into my blood...” He offered Atlas a wry smile as he thought of Sanda’s sudden, painful end. “Well, you would have needed to start updating your resume.”

Atlas didn’t take the bait. Instead, he took a seat on the edge of his own bed, where he could watch Cristian openly and without any distractions. “There’s nothing we can do to help it heal faster?” His gaze darted back down. “Or something to help you manage the pain?”

“I got lucky. Time and feeding will make it better eventually.” He didn’t mention how difficult it would be to find a willing donor in this backwater village, or how the risk of traveling into a larger, more established area could bring all their enemies down on their heads. He didn’t have to say any of that, because Atlas could read between the lines well enough on his own.

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