Vampire Mine - Kerrelyn Sparks [11]
He leaned over her and whispered, “Doona fash. I willna harm you.” He pressed a fingertip against the woman’s upper lip and gently prodded it up. Dainty white teeth. No fangs.
She must be human.
But what about Zack? He’d referred to people as “humans,” and he’d said something about the master ordering their deaths. He definitely sounded like a Malcontent. Had he attempted to use vampire mind control on this woman to force her to kill? But what vampire could cause the flashes of light and the blast of air that had thrown Connor forty feet through the air? What had burned the trees and scorched the earth? How had Marielle survived such an attack?
He straightened slowly. Roman was watching him curiously while Laszlo readied a tray of surgical instruments.
“Well?” Roman tugged on his gloves. “Is she a vampire?”
“Nay.” Connor took a deep breath. “I doona know what to make of her.”
“How dramatic.” Laszlo gave him an amused look as he set a stack of towels on a table close to the gurney. “She’s definitely female. She doesn’t have the scent of a shifter, so I think we can safely assume she’s human.”
“Ye doona think her blood smells a wee bit odd?” Connor asked. “ ’Tis verra rich.”
Laszlo tilted his head, sniffing. “True. I can’t quite detect her blood type, and I usually can.”
“Enough talk.” Roman marched up to the gurney. “Let’s take a look at her before she bleeds to death.” He whisked the bloody tartan away and tossed it on the floor.
“Nay!” Connor quickly pushed her onto her stomach and shot Roman an annoyed look. “I’ve already checked her for injuries.” With vampire speed, he nabbed a towel off the nearby table, flipped it open, and covered the woman’s rump. “ ’Tis only her back that needs tending.”
She moaned a few mumbled words.
“ ’Twill be all right, lass,” he answered as he carefully tucked the towel around her hips. Did the sound of her voice affect the other men like it did him? Perhaps not, since Laszlo possessed the same politely helpful expression he usually had.
“Did she just say, ‘Don’t touch me’?” Laszlo asked.
“Aye. She said that when I first found her. She may be afraid her nudity will incite men to abuse her.” Connor noticed that her hair had fallen over her face when he’d shoved her onto her stomach. He brushed her hair back to make sure she could breathe. “Doona fash, lass, we willna harm you.”
“Don’t . . .” Her eyelids flickered, then closed.
“Och, she’s out again.” Connor straightened and discovered Roman regarding him again with a curious look. His cheeks grew warm. So he was displaying some normal human kindness. Was that so strange? He lifted his chin. “So do ye plan on helping this woman or letting her bleed to death?”
Roman’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Let’s get her cleaned up, Laszlo.”
The short chemist passed Roman a bottle of antiseptic cleanser and some gauze pads. When Roman doused her burns with antiseptic, the woman moaned.
“Ye’re hurting her,” Connor protested.
“We have to protect her from infection.” Laszlo smoothed some ointment over the burns. “This will help with the pain and promote healing.”
“She may end up with some scars,” Roman commented as he began to clean the wounds across her shoulder blades.
She flinched, then moaned again.
Connor grimaced as he saw the two cuts now clearly defined on her back. Each one looked about six inches long. Fortunately, they had stopped bleeding.
Roman finished cleaning her wounds, then tossed the bloody strips of gauze into a metal pan. His eyes narrowed as he examined the cuts. “This is . . . odd. At first, I assumed the slashes were caused by a sharp instrument like a knife or sword, but if you look closer, you’ll see the skin is burned.”
“Perhaps she was cut by a laser?” Laszlo