"Blood, shredded clothes, fur…humans would definitely ask questions if they found it. The pack probably hosed off the parking lot. Garrett probably will have them scrubbing up blood all night. Still, it was a close call."
"Yeah."
"I understand why he's upset, I really do." He punches a button, and the machine announces message deleted. "The Fight Club is wolf run, but it's drawn attention and trouble before." He shakes his head. "Not a great time to be a shifter. It's getting harder and harder to hide from humans."
"Yeah." I murmur. "My clan used to say that all the time. That's why they sold me."
"Hey." He puts a finger under my chin and tips it up. "You didn't deserve that."
"Thank you for saying that," I whisper. He looks like he wants to say more, but he shakes his head and steps away. I wilt without his touch.
He sucks in a breath as he peels his black t-shirt off.
"Oh no," I whine. His body is a mess. That broken claw he pulled out was only the beginning.
I wave my hands in the air, not knowing where to start.
"First aid kit, bathroom," he says and I rush to get it.
He follows me, filling the small space with his bulk. I squeeze into a corner as he wipes steam from the small mirror and angles his body so he can assess the damage. It's no use-the mirror is small and dingy and his entire massive body is covered with cuts and gashes.
Grabbing a washcloth, he starts wiping like he's scrubbing a counter. Like his mangled body is concrete and not flesh. I know he's strong but I wince just watching.
"Please, let me help." I hover.
He hands me the rag, I rinse it out and dab at his skin. He sucks in a breath and I pause.
"Does it hurt?"
His head is bowed, his eyes gleaming through his hair. "No, Kit. Not that." He clears his throat. "You can be rougher with me, I can take it."
I continue cleaning. Every inch of him is hard with muscle. It's crazy, like something out of an anatomy textbook, except there probably aren't words to describe all the muscles he has. Big ones, medium ones, small ones crammed in between the ones I recognize. He has a twelve pack, for crying out loud. I run my hand over the rugged contour and he makes a noise between a moan and a growl. A purr, I'd call it, if he was a cat.
"Good bear," I whisper, and duck my head so I don't see his expression.
When I reach his side, he lifts his arm. There's another claw stuck in his side and when I tell him he growls at me, "Pull it out. Make it fast."
I tug it out and wash the wound with plenty of water. Now that all the extra blood stains are gone, he looks a lot better. His healing has kicked in a little and some cuts have scabbed over. I'm going really slowly, making it thorough, trying not to hurt him. It's taking a lot of time but Grizz doesn't seem to mind.
"I do this sometimes," I say to fill the silence. Distract him a little from a particularly rough scrape. "Clean up subs after blood play."
"At Club Toxic."
"No. There's another place vampires play harder. Um." I raise my head and meet Grizz's bright eyes in the mirror. "Outside of the king's jurisdiction." My face burns; I've told a secret.
"He's not gonna like that," Grizz says. With his eyes bright he looks like a machine, a blond terminator sent to kill humanity.
I shake my head. "Don't tell him."
"Gotta tell him, Kit. I'm on this mission for him."
"I don't want to get anyone in trouble." I go back to cleaning him up. Why did I have to open my mouth? Augustine will kill me if he finds out what I spilled.
Grizz's hand closes over my neck. I still but he only strokes back my hair. "Won't be your fault if they are."
I swallow. "What will the king do if he doesn't approve of the secret club?"
"That's up to him. Not our business, Kit. Where is the club? Do you know?"
I close my eyes. "I can show you." I've already betrayed my master. In for a penny, in for a pound.
"Good girl," he murmurs, tearing me in two. I shouldn't feel good about helping my master's enemy, but I do.
I stay silent as I finish his back.
When I'm done, I wait as he takes the mirror down and checks out his back at all angles. "Thanks, Kit. Should heal faster now."
I wait on his bed as he showers. I should try to run and warn Augustine, but something makes me stay. I tell myself it's his orders, but he hasn't given me an order in a while. I wish he would, so I could turn off the thoughts buzzing like angry bees around in my head.
Grizz enters barefoot, wearing a soft-looking pair of sweatpants and nothing else. Even though I know it's a lot better, his chest still looks bad. I wince at the red marks.
"Like raw meat, huh?" he says. "Don't worry, I know my chances at a modeling career ended long ago."
He picks up the clothes on the bed-the ones we bought. I folded them but didn't know where to put them. With an arched eyebrow, he clears out a drawer in his dresser and drops my clothes in. I should comment on this, but I'm too tired. His movements are fluid and graceful but seem to fill the room.
The fighter returned home. The conquering hero. His presence saturates the air, making me aware of how small I am. How female. The perfect prize for a warrior.