“You smell funny.”
“It’s called irritation,” he muttered as he pushed his fingers firmly into her elbow joint. “The problem is your nerves. They’ve shut down somehow and aren’t allowing control to the muscles.” His large palm moved slowly upward to her shoulder. “I need you to sit up.” She did, and his hand drifted around to her back, then up her neck. It felt good in a way it shouldn’t, good enough that she didn’t even notice that the rig had pulled to a stop until the back doors opened.
Eidolon stood there, his expression stony, his eyes nearly black and revealing nothing. Her chest constricted so she could barely breathe, because God, she’d forgotten how beautiful he was in scrubs, the way his broad shoulders filled out the top, how the V-neck revealed tan skin lightly dusted with dark hair. The markings on his muscular arm writhed almost hypnotically, and she nearly sighed at the visual orgasm it was giving her.
Even all Mr. Grimface, Eidolon was the hottest thing she’d ever seen.
“What happened?”
“Yeah, I missed you, too, Hellboy.”
Eidolon pegged her with an exasperated look and grabbed the stretcher. “What did you do now?”
“She got into a fight with a Daeva.” They wheeled her into the dark ER, where humanoid and nonhumanoid beings glared at her with unconcealed hatred.
“I wasn’t looking for a fight,” she protested.
Shade gave her a flat stare, so like Eidolon’s. “You just happened to be taking a walk in demon central and got ambushed?”
“Sort of.”
“What happened to the Daeva?” Eidolon asked. Silence fell like a guillotine blade as everyone waited for an answer.
Pride made her want to say she’d killed it, but not being suicidal . . . “It got away.”
“Uh-huh.” He and Shade settled her into a cubicle and closed the curtains to shut out the gawkers.
“Where’s Wraith?” Shade asked.
“Hunting.” Eidolon’s deep voice resonated through her with almost the same effect Shade’s touch had had on her earlier. She’d forgotten how seductive his voice alone was. “Why did you call us, Tayla?”
Because my boss ordered me to. Guilt kicked her in the chest for just a second—until she glanced over at Shade, who looked as if he’d rather kill her than treat her.
“I don’t need anyone asking questions about this wound and why it won’t heal.” That much was true. The thought stung, because she felt herself drawing further and further away from the only family she’d ever known, and if she couldn’t count on them, she had nothing left.
“Probably smart,” he said, as he pulled on some surgical gloves.
When he finished, he and Shade moved her to a padded table, where she lay still while Shade gripped her wrist and Eidolon probed her wound, which didn’t hurt thanks to whatever Shade was doing to her. In fact, Eidolon’s fingers on her skin soothed all her aches, except the one that had started to inexplicably blossom between her legs. That one grew worse, and was it her imagination, or had Eidolon started to lose focus?
His long fingers no longer probed her wound, but were instead gliding over the skin of her stomach in long, sensual strokes. Through the thin latex of his glove, she could see his tattoo pulsing, pushing up on the material. His gaze snapped up to hers, glints of gold punching through the brown in his eyes.
“E!” Shade snapped his fingers in front of Eidolon. He jerked back when Eidolon hissed, the gold in his eyes spreading like spilled paint. “Shit. E, man, get it together. Do you need to transfuse?”
For a moment Hellboy stood there, chest heaving, and then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “No. I’m fine.” His voice was a low, rough rumble as he returned Shade’s doubtful look with a hard one of his own. “I’m fine.”
She wondered if the s’genesis thing had anything to do with whatever was happening, but she didn’t ask, merely watched as Eidolon pressed his fingers over her wound. A tingle ran through her belly, similar to what she’d felt when he healed the facial wounds the Cruentus demon had given her during the sewer battle at Nancy’s.
“No response. I’m going to have to suture this again.”
“Why doesn’t it heal like the other wounds?” she asked.
“I think it’s got something to do with what’s going on with your anatomy.”
Shade and Eidolon exchanged looks. “You told her? What, you ran out of pillow talk?”
“She needed to know.”
Shade spouted something in another language, and Eidolon snapped back.
“It isn’t polite to speak in tongues in front of guests.”
“Fuck you, slayer.” Shade released her wrist, and pain tore through her abdomen. She gasped before she could stop herself and bit her lip to keep from doing it again.