A Cat's Chance in Hell (50 page)

“
But you did kill him,” she said softly. “You had to do something life should never have asked of you.” She reached for him; compassion warring with anger and hurt. Anger that she hadn’t been able to help, hurt that he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her the truth.

“
I could only do it because of what he’d done to you, because of what he was trying to do to you,” he growled, his hands clenching into fists so tight that his knuckles looked ready to burst from the skin. “If it had been anyone else lying there, I’m not sure I would have been able to do it. I might have let him live.”

“
I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“
SORRY?” he roared, lurching out of the chair, storming to the window. “Sorry?” he asked, still loud but not yelling. “What have you got to be sorry for? Danté tortured you to within millimetres of your life; he was trying to turn you into a full Vampire. I could kill him a hundred times over for what he did to you.” He was breathing hard and his hands were clenched in his hair as he stared at her incredulously.

“
I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to kill him for you,” she said quietly. “No one should ever have to take the life of blood kin. I wish I could have done it for you.”

Julius collapsed to his knees on the floor, his head hung, and in the pale light of the full moon Gabi could see his tears splash down onto the floor tiles. They left tiny dark specks where they fell. She wished she could go to him, take him in her arms and comfort him, hold him until his grief was spent, help ease the weight of his guilt. But even if she hadn’t been confined to the bed with plastercasts and plastic tubes, she wasn’t sure she could comfort him. Not yet. Her own spirit felt like it had been shredded into a million tiny pieces; her confidence in herself was shattered, she was bleeding on the inside as well as the outside. How could she offer emotional support when she was so deeply in need of it herself?

And so, she watched him in the light of the moon, until he finally stood and came to her. Without looking at her, he bent and kissed her forehead, a featherlight touch of lips and then he was gone.

She closed her eyes against the sting of her own tears, then she felt a movement on the bed. She opened her eyes to see Razor sitting next to her, simply gazing adoringly into her face, his joy at seeing her vibrating through his entire body. Gabi laced her fingers into his lush coat and felt some cuts on her face crack open as she smiled at him. Suddenly, it felt as though a few of the tattered slivers of her spirit had just healed into a larger, more robust chunk. She remembered Kyle calling her back from the welcoming darkness with the words that Razor was still alive, but she hadn’t actually believed him. Seeing the cat sitting next to her, whole and uninjured was a priceless gift, a caress to her battered soul.

She must have drifted back to sleep because when she opened her eyes again, the faint grey light of dawn was colouring the room. She turned, looking for the water glass, and found Kyle slumped in the chair a few feet away. He was asleep, but at the sound of her movement, he cracked one eyelid. A warm, relieved smile lit his face, and he sprang up to go to her.

“
Thirsty?” he asked, seeing her eye the glass. He helped her sit and drink. “It’s so good to see your eyes open,” he enthused. “I want to hug the breath out of you, but I don’t know where to touch you.” He settled for ruffling her mussy curls and dragging the chair closer to sit where she could look at him without straining.

“
Where are we? It doesn’t sound or smell like any hospital I know.”

“
You’re in Julius’s private hospital wing at the Estate. It’s fully equipped, set up for his Werewolves, and Ian has been liaising with Julius’s Vamp doctor about your treatment. Ian really wanted to get you to his hospital but Julius wouldn’t budge, and he’s not really in the kind of mood where anybody is keen to argue with him.”

“
Oh,” she said lifting her hand to her hair. “Ugh, what a mess.” Her hair was heavy with sweat and dirt and blood.

“
Yeah, the nurse didn’t want to wash your hair until the major wound had closed a bit. It was a nasty one,” Kyle explained.

“
What’s the rest of the damage?” she asked, suddenly realising she had no idea and lifting the sheet to peer down at herself underneath it. She catalogued the braces, bandages, burn dressings and stitches as he filled her in.

“
Broken left arm, broken right ankle and shattered knee, fourteen broken ribs, a cracked skull, fractured cheek bone, and I didn’t bother trying to count the stitches. Ian might know the final count.” He tried to sound unaffectedly jovial as he listed the injuries, but Gabi could hear the concern underlying his cheerful tone. “They pumped five or six bags of blood into you as well.”

“
Ian’s going to book me off for weeks isn’t he?” she asked in resignation.

“
Hmmm, I’d go with months,” Kyle replied. “And, if Byron has anything to say about it, it could well be years.”

She made a rude noise in her throat.

“
We’ll just see about that,” she declared, a gleam coming into her eyes as she stroked Nex’s hilt where she found it tucked between the bed railings and the mattress.