Sookie Stackhouse Boxed Set (Books 1-8) - Charlaine Harris [788]
“I’m not bad,” he said instantly. “Not bad. It’s in my shoulder, not my heart.” He rolled over to lie on his back. The Louisiana vamps had all leaped up to the platform to circle the queen, just a second behind Andre. Once they were sure the threat was over, they clustered around us.
Cleo threw off her tuxedo jacket and ripped off the pleated white shirt. She folded it into a pad in movements so fast I could hardly follow them. “Hold this,” she said, pressing it into my hand and placing my hand close to the wound. “Prepare to press hard.” She didn’t wait for me to nod. “Hold on,” she said to Quinn. And she put her strong hands on his shoulders to hold him still while Gervaise pulled the arrow out.
Quinn bellowed, not too surprisingly. The next few minutes were pretty bad. I pressed the pad against the wound, and while Cleo pulled on the tuxedo jacket over her black lace bra, she directed Herve, her human squeeze, to donate his shirt, too. I’ve got to say, he whipped it right off. There was something really shocking about seeing a bare hairy chest in the middle of all this evening finery. And it was beyond weird that I would note that, after I’d just seen a guy’s head separated from his body.
I knew Eric was beside me before he spoke, because I felt less terrified. He knelt down to my level. Quinn was concentrating on not yelling, so his eyes were shut as though he was unconscious and there was still lots of action going on all around me. But Eric was next to me, and I felt . . . not exactly calm, but not as upset. Because he was there.
I just hated that.
“He’s going to heal,” Eric said. He didn’t sound especially happy about it, but not sad, either.
“Yes,” I said.
“I know. I didn’t see it coming.”
“Oh, would you have flung yourself in front of me?”
“No,” Eric said simply. “Because it might have hit me in the heart, and I would die. But I would have dived in and tackled you to take you out of the arrow’s path if there had been time.”
I couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“I know you may come to hate me because I spared you the bite of Andre,” he said quietly. “But I really am the lesser of two evils.”
I glanced sideways at him. “I know that,” I said, Quinn’s blood staining my hands as it soaked through the makeshift pad. “I wouldn’t have rather died than get bit by Andre, but it was a close thing.”
He laughed, and Quinn’s eyes flickered. “The weretiger is regaining consciousness,” Eric said. “Do you love him?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Did you love me?”
A team of stretcher bearers came over. Of course, these weren’t regular paramedics. Regular paramedics wouldn’t have been welcome in the Pyramid of Gizeh. These were Weres and shifters who worked for the vamps, and their leader, a young woman who looked like a honey bear, said, “We’ll make sure he gets healed in record time, lady.”
“I’ll check on him later.”
“We’ll take care of him,” she said. “Among us, he’ll do better. It’s a privilege to take care of Quinn.”
Quinn nodded. “I’m ready to be moved,” he said, but he was clenching the words between his teeth.
“See you later,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “You’re the bravest of the brave, Quinn.”
“Babe,” he said, biting his lower lip from the pain. “Be careful.”
“Don’t you be worrying about her,” said a black guy with a short, clipped Afro. “She’s got guardians.” He gave Eric a cool look. Eric held out his hand and I took it to stand up. My knees were aching a little after their acquaintance with the hard floor.
As they got him onto the stretcher and lifted him, Quinn seemed to lose consciousness. I started forward, but the black guy held out his arm. It looked like carved ebony, the muscles were so defined. “Sister, you just stay here,” he said. “We’re on the job now.”
I watched them carry him off. Once he was out of sight, I looked down at my dress. Amazingly, it was all right. Not dirty, not bloody, and the wrinkles