Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

The apartment was in darkness when they arrived. Which was as expected. Tara let them in and switched on the light. She was about to enter when Christian put a hand on her arm.

“There’s someone here,” he whispered.





Chapter Twenty-Two


Tara stopped in her tracks. She hated the fear that ripped through her but couldn’t deny it. An image of Chloe’s abused body flashed across her mind, and she gripped Christian’s arm.

“Is it demons?”

He shook his head, but reached inside his coat and drew his pistol. He held it loosely in his hand and pushed Tara behind him.

“Wait here,” he said.

“Not likely.” She wouldn’t stay anywhere alone. She was sticking close by Christian.

“Okay, just don’t cling to my gun arm.”

She dropped her hand but kept close as he entered the apartment. He pushed open the door to the kitchen but nothing moved. Backing out, he entered the living room, flicked on the light, and Tara gasped.

“Jamie!”

Jamie was on the sofa, unconscious, his left side drenched in crimson. Blood soaked the fabric beneath him, and as Christian sniffed the air, a strange expression flickered across his face.

“Is that your friend?” he asked.

Tara nodded. Pushing past Christian, she sank to her knees beside Jamie. His eyes were closed, his face pale. She touched his cheek. It felt warm beneath her fingertips, and she released her breath—at least he was alive.

Christian came to stand behind her.

“Is he going to be all right?” she asked.

“I should think so. Why don’t you go look for your cat, and let me see to him?”

“Please don’t let him die.”

Christian picked up one of Jamie’s limp hands and ran his thumb over the pulse point.

“He’s not dying. He’s lost a lot of blood, but that’s not why he’s unconscious.” He lifted the hair back from Jamie’s forehead. A large purple bruise marred the skin. “Go on. I’ll get him bandaged up, and we’ll take him with us. I don’t want to stay around here too long.”

He ripped Jamie’s T-shirt down one side. What appeared to be claw marks ran across his left shoulder and chest. The bleeding had stopped but the wounds still seeped. Tara watched as Christian probed the wounds, then she scrambled to her feet. Her legs trembled, and she closed her eyes for a moment. She couldn’t begin to imagine what she would have done if Jamie had been dead.

“You will save him, won’t you, Christian?”

“He’ll be fine, but you could get me a clean towel or something to use as a bandage.”

In the bathroom, she grabbed a couple of towels from the cupboard and hurried back.

“Here, I don’t have any antiseptic or anything—I never need it.”

Christian took the towels from her. “No problem, but I want to stop the bleeding before we move him. We can sort it out once we get to CR.”

She gave Jamie one last lingering look. “Good. I’ll go find Smokey.”

At the door, she glanced back in time to see Christian raise his bloody fingers to his mouth and lick them clean. His eyes narrowed on Jamie and a small smile curved his lips. Tara opened her mouth to question him, then clamped it shut and turned away.

She searched the house but she could find no trace of her cat. Maybe he was hiding from Jamie or Christian. Standing at the kitchen window, she peered down onto the heath but it was too dark to see anything. She opened the window and called. Nothing answered, and after a few minutes, she gave up. She got some fresh food from the freezer and set it on a dish to defrost. Christian came in as while she filled the water bowl.

“He’s not here,” she said.

“Don’t worry, we can come back another time. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Cats have a way of looking after themselves.”

She followed him into the living room. “You go first,” he said. “I doubt we’ll meet any neighbors at this time, but just in case.”

“Do you want something to wrap him in, so you don’t get blood all over you?”

His lips twitched. “I’m hardly likely to be bothered by a little blood.” He looked at Jamie. “On second thought, it will save the car. Go get a blanket.”

Tara got one from the bedroom and watched Christian wrap Jamie carefully. Jamie groaned and a wave of relief washed over her at the sign of life. He wasn’t small, but Christian picked him up easily and held him against his chest. “Lead the way.”

It was quiet on the way to the car. Tara scrambled into the back and Christian handed Jamie in after her so he lay across the seat, his head cradled in her lap.

Halfway back to CR, his eyes opened. “Tara?”

She stroked the hair back from his forehead. “Hi,” she said softly.

He blinked up at her, his eyes dazed. “Where am I?”

Christian snorted from the front seat. “Very original line.”

Jamie tried to sit up, but Tara pushed him back down. “You’re in a car. We’re taking you to Christian’s place. We found you at the apartment, Jamie—what happened?”

“Chloe’s dead,” he said.

“I know.”