40. Warmth in the cave

Kinn could hear it in his tone and see it in the way he held himself… tense. He knew, and she wasn’t surprised. She could tell they had trained him by how he had handled himself earlier. It didn’t change the fact that she needed to get him out of the cold and get him bandaged up.

She hadn’t spoken at all since she had arrived, and she continued to hold her silence. Kinn saw no reason for hiding anything anymore and she lifted him and set him in the saddle with little difficulty. She jumped up behind him, her arms going around him to hold him securely. The snow flew from under the hoofs as she kicked the horse into motion.

Not too far away from where they had been, there was a cave in the rock face. She dismounted outside and led the horse in carefully. Kinn looked around, her eyes shifting to take in the lower light levels. It was empty and, by the looks of it, had been so for some time. She tied the horse up to a nearby stalagmite and pulled him carefully off the horse.

For one chilling moment, his instincts told him to bury his dagger right in the woman’s heart. She grabbed him, lifted him up as if he were a child and not a man of nearly 200 pounds. Even the explosion of pain that came from the movement in his leg wouldn’t have stopped him. What did was the fact that she was offering him a chance to live? Vampire or not, he was a firm believer in self-preserving. Giving his life to protect another was just the reason he saw to die.

She knew the entire time that he had the dagger in his hand. To him, it might have been clean, but she could smell every different type of blood that the blade had tasted. There are some things you can’t clean, no matter how much you try. If it made him feel better to feel as though he was in control, let him. She knew it was there and could take it from him, made even easier by his current condition.

Through the ride, his leg protested. He clamped his jaws together to keep from screaming like he damn well wanted to. He held onto her tightly, one arm anchored firmly around her waist while he kept his dagger in hand. As they reached the cave and she slipped from him, he let one small grunt through his teeth as she helped him down and left him by one wall. His eyes followed her every move.

Kinn helped him over to one side so he could lean against the wall of the cave. She spun around, looking for various rocks. She moved them around until she made a circle near him. Then she left the cave, still not uttering a word.

This would be a chance to run. If he were capable of it. The storm would kill him even if she didn’t. This cave was his only salvation for now. Careful as he could, he slid to the floor and extended his injured leg. It didn’t want to bend fully do he knew it had dislocated. His brown eyes darkened, nearly turning black in anticipation of the pain to come. Just touching the swollen joint had tears stinging his eyes. He didn’t care.

One sharp push down and there was a dull click as the bone popped back into place. Nothing he could do could hold in the scream that ripped out of him as it bounced off the walls and flew away with the wind.

She heard his scream echo into the night as she made her way from the cave. Part of her, a large part of her, told her just to leave him there and let the land claim him. What did she care anyway? She still asked herself why she spent the effort to save him.

Kinn was sent out alone by the hierarchy often, as she cared little for the social circles her kind normally walked in. The pomp and grandeur they liked to pretend with made her sick. Still, she did as she was told, went to do what was needed. Yet, here she was, picking up sticks and small chunks of woods for a wounded human that she would probably have to feed off of in a few days. She sighed and shook her head as she picked up one last piece before she turned and headed back.

Kinn walked into the cave and looked at him. Her eyes washed over him and then went to the target of her attention, the stone circle. She stacked the larger pieces of wood together, shoving tinder here and there. Kinn took out her piece of flint and started striking it. She knew it wouldn’t be easy. The wood was damp. Yet, it didn’t take long at all for a small fire to form, filling a circle with light and warmth.

Marcus has passed out from the sensory overload of pain after he had reset his knee. His body slumped back against the icy wall so drawn into the darkness of unconsciousness that he didn’t even shiver, even though he was soaked with blood and icy cold snow. His knee swelled and strained against the seams of his pant leg. The sensation sent wave after wave of pain signals into his brain, taxing him even further.

The dagger that he had clutched to during the trip now lay beside his limp fingers on the stone floor. His breathing was slow but harsh, as though the agony he ensured was trying to come out through his lungs.

Kinn tilted her head a bit to the side as she watched him in his restless sleep. She looked over the various injuries and decided it was best to clean them before he developed an infection. She would hate to think that she went through all this just to have him die from sickness.

She walked over so that she stood over him. She unclasped his cloak and moved him this way and that until the garment was free from him. Kinn lay it out on the floor of the cave and went back for his coat. Back out she went, gathering some clean snow in the coat to bring back to the cave. Once inside again, she pulled off his tunic, boots, and pants until he was naked. She lay his body out on the cloak with his rolled-up pants under his head for a pillow. A few inaudible sounds of disgruntled pain left him as she worked him out of his clothes. His hands lifted only to fall at his sides again; fingers clenching and unclenching reflexively. He flinched when she forced off his pants down his swollen leg. The constant shifting dragged him from the black abyss.

She put some of the snow into his shirt and held it near the fire, melting it and soaking through the material. When it was sufficiently warmed, she moved over to him to take an inventory of his injuries and set about cleaning them.

By the time she came back towards him, he was plenty alert enough to watch her and reached up lightning quick to catch her wrist as soon as she reached out to clean the blood off him.

“Who are you? Why did you help me?”

Kinn looked at him. She was still covered head to toe, with the only things visible being the bridge of her nose and her eyes. As he spoke, she let him grab her and turned her attention to his wounds. She pulled her arm back, not hard or fast, more like a continuous motion that soon had her beyond his reach. Marcus stubbornly tried to hold her, even knowing he couldn’t. She slipped away regardless, and he lay back, vaguely aware of his nudity but caring little about it. At least until she revealed herself. She was beautiful. Gorgeous. Her lips... he stirred and with nothing on him, he couldn’t hide the slight swelling and shift of his cock as she knelt down beside him again.

“Have you lost your tongue to a wolf? Or are like the others? Above speaking to a human?”

She stood her full height, which was impressive for a woman. Kinn was about 5’11”, thin but not skinny, curvy but not overly so. She unclasped her cloak and put it off to the side. Next came her gloves. She reached up with slightly pink flesh-covered fingers and pulled the scarf that obscured her face from view. Her lips were full and pink. Her waist-length auburn hair tumbled down her back in soft waves. She kept her eyes on him as she knelt back down, picking up the damn rag to finish her task. She paused and looked back at him, a look that seemed to ask if he was going to stop her again.

“No,” she whispered.

Her voice was musical and enchanting, probably why she didn’t speak to humans often. She was still looking at him before looking away and trying to clean his wounds again.

“If I was just like the others,” she continued as she cleaned him, trying to be gentle, “I would have let them kill you.”

She didn’t say anymore, though she put a hand in the center of his chest to keep him still as she cleaned a rather deep and nasty-looking cut. She didn’t need him to move and potentially make things even worse than they already were.

“I gathered,” he murmured quietly, somewhat appeased by her answers.

It was the silence he didn’t like. He hated hearing nothing but the beat of his own heart and the howl of the wind. It made him uneasy being so close to what was essentially his enemy. Even though he didn’t hold any hatred towards her kind or the wolves. Killing them was just... what they trained him for.