His eyes glowed a wolf gold, his jaw grinding tight before he answered. “He won’t bother anyone again.”
She grabbed the hand he caressed over her face. “He heals.” She warned. “I shot him and stabbed my hair clip through his neck, he heals. Fast.”
“Not from this.”
“Demon, his hand was almost all the way off and he healed in a few hours.” She knew she sounded paranoid but she couldn’t help it. Clancy had become a nightmare she would relive every time she closed her eyes.
“Baby, there wasn’t enough left of him to fill a shoe box. He’s gone. He can’t hurt you any more.”
Clytie was not ready to deal with how Demon had accomplished that. She needed to think of something else, and getting clean became a necessity. Someone had wiped her down, the blood was gone, but she needed a thorough scrub before she would feel close to human again. “I want a shower.”
Demon stood, pulling her covers back, he helped her to her feet. She paused holding the mattress until her dizziness passed and the pounding in her head was bearable. Someone, she assumed Demon, had dressed her in one of her few long nightgowns. It seemed strange to be wearing a picture of a cartoon dog when she felt so used up. Demon tried to lead her into the bathroom but she shook his hand off. “I can do it myself.”
“Baby, you can barely stand. The Doctor said you have a mild concussion. You could fall in the shower.”
She stepped away from the bed. When he reached out again she pushed him away once more. “I said I want to do it myself.”
“Damn it Clytie let me help you!”
She moved toward the bathroom steadily, her voice shaky. “If I need help I’ll ask for it. Right now I need a few minutes to myself to think.”
“And I need to make sure you’re all right!”
She turned at the bathroom door, Demon crowding close behind her. “I’m not all right. I was kidnapped, beat, almost raped, and very nearly killed by an insane werewolf, oh yeah and my lover and all his friends probably turn into the same kind of monster and never told me.
I need a shower and time to process. Tomorrow can be about what you need. Right now I'm taking me time!” She slammed the door in his face and locked it.
“Fuck!” Demon roared, feeling as helpless now as when she was in danger and he couldn’t find her.
Clytie heard the roar and cringed but she didn’t relent. She didn’t have it in her right now. Instead she turned on the shower as hot as it would go and used a full bar of soap to clean off the invisible filth that covered her.
By the time she left the shower, the water was cold and she'd shampooed her hair three times, scrubbed her body raw, and cried the whole time. When she left the bathroom sometime later, her hair was blow-dried and her head felt like someone was using it for an anvil.
Demon was still in the bedroom but he kept his distance. He sat in the chair in the farthest corner from the bed. He had closed the curtains and there was a pile of sheets beside him so he must have freshened the bed.
When she looked, she found her favorite pair of pajamas across the foot with soft cotton panties in navy blue. Tylenol and a glass of water sat on the nightstand. His eyes followed her painful process until she had dressed, taken the painkillers, and climbed back in the bed. He stood as soon as she was settled, turning off the lamp and heading for the door.
“Demon.” He paused out in the hall with the door almost closed.
“Yeah Baby?” The tenderness in his voice made Clyties raw eyes tear up again.
“Thank you for rescuing me.” She hugged a pillow to her chest. “He would have killed me if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”
He came back into the room and knelt down on the floor until they were back where they started before her shower. “I know I fucked up Baby. I fucked up and you were hurt, nearly killed. You were kidnapped by the bottom feeders of the shifter world, nearly raped by that piece of shit Clancy and now you probably want to get away from me and mine as fast as you can sprint out of here.” He swallowed hard, pain graphic on his face. “I won’t keep you Clytie, not if you want to go. Just get well first, that’s all I ask. Give me a little time to make you safe. Then we’ll move you back into your place and you won’t ever have to see me again.”
She studied his face, with all that had happened the man she loved was still there. Brutal scar and howling wolf tattoo included. He had a healing claw mark down the side of his neck directly over his wolf that he must have received saving her life. She reached over and petted her hand down his scarred face. “Can you do something for me Demon, well three things really?”
He braced himself thinking she was going to evict him summarily, but he gave the only answer he could. “Anything.”
“In a month or two when this whole incident is behind us will you change for me? I bet you make a beautiful wolf.”
Demon forgot to breathe; afraid he would do something unmanly like burst into tears. He held her hand against his scarred face then kissed her palm. “I can do that. What else?”
“You can stop blaming yourself for the actions of a psychotic rapist. You tried to keep me safe, and you rescued me when I needed it. You came for me. You killed that bastard.” She leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his scarred cheek, her harsh tone at odds with the softness of her touch. “I knew you would.”
He closed his eyes briefly then with a deep exhale he leaned in to kiss the bruises on her forearm. “I’d kill him again if I could. Forgiving myself for letting you be hurt is harder. It might take a few years. What else?”
“I need you to hold me.” Her voice broke under her emotions. “I’ve had a rough couple of days. I want to sleep without nightmares. I think I’ll feel safe enough to sleep if you’re with me.”
This time Demon couldn’t stop the tears as he climbed into bed. Careful not to jar her he spooned up behind her until he could bury his face in her shoulder and breathe her in. “Go to sleep baby, I’ll be right here.”
“You promise?”
“You had your chance to get rid of me. You blew it. Now you’re stuck with me.”
Clytie pulled his arms in closer hugging them to her chest and drifting off with a sigh. “Good.”
Epilogue
The champagne glasses tinkled throughout the room, people milling, murmuring in soft voices. Clyties art was hanging in strategic spots to catch beams of light from different angles. The white walls and specially prepared lights made the translucent wax glow from the inside out. Demon had been dragged off by Ben and Mac at Marion's request. The Art Director seemed to think the clients would be more likely to approach the Artist if a seven-foot tall crazy man wasn’t giving them the evil eye and growling at any male that came within three feet of her. So Clytie was standing alone in a little black dress Demon had threatened to rip off her later. She stood beside the only piece of art in the room that was not for sale and answered questions on technique and the properties of wax whenever anyone stopped to talk.
When she had worked “Wolf Dreams” from the wax that first day she had been thinking of Demon and his wolf tattoo. It was supposed to be symbolic. Of course, now that she had seen Demon shift to his beautiful black wolf it became more a private irony. Every one of his pack mates had tried to buy it, and it had become a private war between them to bid for it whenever they saw Clytie.