Page 84 of Blood Magic

Chapter Thirty-Five

Bastien was wrong.

The supernaturals in the biker club did notice me. When I fell through the door into their club, dragging a bloody, barely conscious—because yes, he had regained consciousness before we’d left the tunnel—human behind me, they jumped to their feet and rushed to help me.

They wore a variety of bandanas and caps, leather jackets, denim vests, and boots, and I would not have known they were nonhumans if Bastien hadn’t told me they were. I was sure some of them were human bikers, but at that moment, I really didn’t care.

“I’ve got him, honey,” a big, grizzled man said, gently taking the detective from me. “I’ve got him.”

“Take her to the back,” the bartender called. “Get her a bed and call the doctor.”

I shook my head. “I have a car waiting. I need to get him…” Where? The hospital? No, couldn’t do that. Then I knew. I’d take him to my pack. Jared would help me. He’d call in the pack’s doctor, Ben Hayes, and they would fix the detective up. He’d be okay. He had to be. “I have a place to go,” I finished.

They didn’t argue, and the man who’d taken Rick from me carried him toward the door. As we crossed the wooden floor, a small woman came running with a pair of jeans. I took them gratefully and pulled them on, not even a little shy. The jacket covered my private parts, but just barely, and the jeans were warm and soft.

“Thank you,” I said at the door. “Thank you.”

They nodded and murmured, and then I was hurrying through the parking lot after the big man who carried my detective.

“Joe,” I yelled, angry that my voice was so damn weak.

And then Joe was there, striding across the dark back parking lot, and he didn’t say a word or try to pick me up and carry me, the way my alpha would have…he simply shot me a glare, glanced at the detective and the man carrying him, then gestured abruptly.

“Car’s over here.”

The fact that he didn’t treat me like I was half dead cheered me considerably, and I hurried along behind him, feeling immediately stronger—at least in my mind. But even my body seemed to be repairing itself in a hurry. I needed food. A steak would definitely help things along.

Hunger roared over me, so huge and hurtful that I doubled over from the pain in my stomach. As Joe helped the biker place Rick in the back seat, I hurried to the front to see if I could find something to eat. Unfortunately, there wasn’t so much as a lone fry that had fallen into the floor.

The biker came to my door. “Are you okay?”

I gave him my hand. “I will be. Thank you.”

He shook my hand. “Name’s Mason. You need help, you just stop by anytime and ask for me.”

“Thanks, Mason. I’m Kait.”

He winked. “I know who you are.” He let go of my hand and shut my door as Joe climbed into the driver’s side. I watched him as he strode back to the club, smiling.

“Where are we going?” Joe asked, still angry.

“I need to get him to Shadowfield. Jared will see that he’s taken care of.”

He nodded. “Dammit, girl—”

“I know,” I interrupted, “but we’ll fight about it later. I’m okay, Joe.”

He snorted. “You are a lot of things, Kait Silver. Okay is not one of them.”

He wasn’t wrong. I shrugged. “I hate to delay things further, but I really need some food. My stomach is killing me.”

“You’re covered with blood and some horrific looking injuries, but you want to eat. Your stomach is killing you.” And finally, he laughed.

From the back seat, Rick groaned, then muttered something I couldn’t understand. I didn’t think he was awake, not really, but his semiconsciousness coming out of the tunnel meant it wouldn’t be long until whatever was going on with his mind loosened its hold.

I twisted in my seat and reached back to feel for his hand. “You’re okay, Detective. We’ve got you.”

His skin was cold, and he didn’t respond to my voice or my touch at all. He was somewhere in vampire mind-control dreamland, and it was going to take him a little bit to find his way out.