“You’re Cleo, aren’t you?”
Cleo needed his mouth on hers, and moved closer to kiss him again, but he held her at bay, staring at the blood streaming from her shoulder. “You’re hurt. I need to get you out of here. Say the spell with me, Cleo. Rosalind will die if I don’t heal her.”
He reached out, snatching the iron ring from the floor before he returned to her. Wrapping his arms around her, he chanted a spell for teleportation, and she joined in, their auras mingling together with an intense, euphoric power.
Chapter 33
In the celestial room, Caine carried Rosalind across the room. Thick, starry curtains blocked out all the sunlight, and candlelight danced over the room.
Caine gently lowered Rosalind to the bed, propping her up on the pillows. With the iron ring back on her finger, she gripped her shoulder, no longer able to block out the agony.
Excruciating pain blazed through her stomach and collarbone, and blood poured from her wounds.
She heaved a sigh of relief as she heard Aurora and Tammi’s conversation pierce the walls from the next room. Thank the gods—they’re safe.
Caine pulled off her jacket, and the pain took her breath away as she moved. “I need to heal you—now. You’re losing a lot of blood.” He ripped the front of her shirt open, unable to hide the fear flickering across his features when he saw her stomach.
“Miranda ran off,” Rosalind said, her mind twisting with confusion. The blood loss made her dizzy, almost as if she could feel her heart rate growing fainter. “She thought Josiah was her protection.”
“Don’t worry about that now.” Caine traced his fingertips around the wound, then closed his eyes, chanting in Angelic. His aura whispered over her skin. It pulsed through her body, slowly drawing the pain out of the wound.
She took a slow, shuddering breath. “What happened to Malphus?”
“I handed him over to Aurora before I went looking for you. I was nearly too late.” He scanned her body. “You need to take off your pants.”
She leaned back on the bed, unbuttoning the top of her pants as he pulled off her boots. Grimacing, she slid her pants down past her thighs, and Caine tugged them off the rest of the way. Blood streaked her legs, and Caine winced as he looked at her ankle. It was obviously in rough shape.
“You killed Josiah,” she said.
“I can’t imagine you’d object at this point.” He ran his fingers over her ankle, and his aura assuaged the pain. She watched with fascination as the skin healed over, the wound shrinking.
“Not even a little.”
His fingers traced higher up her leg, his touch tingling over her thigh, and the pain from the last gunshot drifted away at his warm, soothing touch. As he finished healing her, she took a deep breath, her body still throbbing with a faint ache.
“That should do it,” he said, his gaze trailing over her body.
“I just want to clean the blood off before I find Tammi. She tends to freak out about blood.”
“Give me a moment.” His fingers still lingered on her leg, and as he chanted, his aura whispered over her skin, sweeping away the blood and gasoline. Her body thrilled at his touch. When he finished, she was suddenly very aware that she wore nothing but the red underwear, and that Caine’s hand rested on her thigh. Her heart pounded harder, and her breath sped up as she looked into his perfect face. His soft, smooth lips had just been on hers, and—
The door slammed open, and Aurora stood in the entrance. “Seven hells. I heard someone’s heart pumping hard, and I thought you might be injured, but no. We just barely got away from an evil cult with our lives intact and you two are stripping off to get it on with each other.”
Caine turned, pulling his hand away from Rosalind’s leg.
“I was healing her.”
Aurora narrowed her eyes. “Is it just me, or are you two awfully fond of ‘healing’ each other? You know, you could just shag like normal people and not subject yourself to broken bones first.”
Rosalind pulled her ripped shirt closed. “Josiah shot me.”
“Josiah’s a twat.” Aurora cocked her head. “You know Caine doesn’t actually need to touch you to perform magic, right?”
Caine rose, frowning. “It works better that way, actually.”
With her body now healed and clean of blood, Rosalind slipped back into her pants. She tied the remnants of her shirt in a knot in front of her bra. “Is everyone okay?”
“Fine, yes,” Aurora said. “Though I nearly burned to death in the sunlight on the way home. Next time you’re planning on rescuing me from the death cult, please do it closer to midnight. And Tammi’s not quite ready for this level of excitement. I had to give her two cocktails to stop her from babbling.”