Part 28 (1/2)
”Dad says no, it's just saliva. But he could be wrong, and you've got cuts and sc.r.a.pes and blood all over.”
I had a few few cuts and sc.r.a.pes, and I was only flecked with blood, but I kept my mouth shut and let him clean. cuts and sc.r.a.pes, and I was only flecked with blood, but I kept my mouth shut and let him clean.
As he did, I tried to check out how badly he he was hurt. His sc.r.a.ped cheeks were pitted with gravel. His nose was bloodied. Broken? One eye was already darkening. Was that blood in the corner? His lip was cut and swollen. Were any teeth loose? Missing? was hurt. His sc.r.a.ped cheeks were pitted with gravel. His nose was bloodied. Broken? One eye was already darkening. Was that blood in the corner? His lip was cut and swollen. Were any teeth loose? Missing?
”Stop fidgeting, Chloe.”
I couldn't help it. His injuries obviously needed more attention than mine, but there was no sense saying anything until he was done.
Finally, when he seemed to have scrubbed off every fleck of blood-and a few layers of skin-I said, ”Okay, now on to you.”
”Take off your jacket and sweats.h.i.+rt.”
”Derek, I'm clean clean. Trust me, I've never been this clean.”
”You've got blood on your cuffs.”
As I took off the jacket, the zipper snagged my necklace.
”It's caught-” I began.
Derek gave the jacket a tug...and the chain snapped, the pendant dropping. He swore and grabbed it before it hit the floor.
”-on my necklace.”
He swore some more, then said, ”I'm sorry.”
”The girl in the alley grabbed it,” I lied. ”The clasp was probably weak. No biggie.”
He looked down at the pendant in his hand. ”Wasn't this red before?”
I hadn't taken a good look at it for a couple of days-no mirrors and the pendant had been under my s.h.i.+rt. I'd thought the color seemed different before, but it had changed even more now, almost blue.
”I-I think it's some kind of talisman,” I said. ”My mom gave it to me, to ward off bogeymen-ghosts, I guess.”
”Huh.” He stared at it, then shook his head and handed it back. ”Better keep it on you then.”
I stuffed it into my pocket, down at the bottom where it would be safe. Then I took off my sweats.h.i.+rt and pushed up my sleeves. No blood had seeped through, but he still made me wash my forearms.
”Okay, now now can we take care of the guy who was actually can we take care of the guy who was actually in in the fight? There's a lot of blood. It seems to be mostly from your nose.” the fight? There's a lot of blood. It seems to be mostly from your nose.”
”It is.”
”You got hit in the chest a few times. How are your ribs?”
”Maybe bruised. Nothing critical.”
”s.h.i.+rt off.”
He sighed, like now I I was the one fussing too much. was the one fussing too much.
”If you want me to leave, so you can look after it yourself...”
”Nah.”
He pulled off his sweats.h.i.+rt and folded it on the counter. There wasn't any blood below his collar, where it had dripped from his nose and lip. I guess that's to be expected when you're fighting with fists, not weapons. He said his ribs on the right were sore to the touch but, to be honest, I wouldn't know bruised from broken. He was breathing fine, and that was the main thing.
”Okay, your nose. Is it broken? Does it hurt?”
”Even if it was broken, there's nothing you can do.”
”Let me check your eyes.”
He grumbled, but didn't resist. The bloodshot corner was already clearing, and I couldn't see any cuts. He'd have a s.h.i.+ner, though. When I told him that, he just grunted. I wet a fresh paper towel.
”You have dirt in your cheek. Let me-”
”No.”
He caught my hand before I could touch his face. He took the cloth and leaned over the counter to wipe the dirt out himself. I tried not to wince as I watched. The gravel had gouged his cheek badly.
”You're going to need to get that checked out.”
”Yeah.” He looked at himself in the mirror, his expression unreadable, until he noticed me watching, then turned away and stepped back from the mirror. I handed him another wet paper towel and he cleaned his neck and collar, freckled with dried blood.
”Still got that deodorant?” he asked.
I retrieved it from my jacket pocket and set it on the counter. He kept was.h.i.+ng.
”In the playground,” I said, ”when you were negotiating, you weren't serious, right? About going with them? It was a trick.”
Silence stretched for way too long.
”Derek?”
He didn't look up, just reached over and got a fresh towel, his gaze averted.
”Did you hear anything anything they said?” I asked. they said?” I asked.
”About what?” His gaze still on the towel, he folded it carefully before throwing it into the trash. ”Hunting humans for sport? Eating them?” The bitterness in his voice cut through me. ”Yeah, I caught that part.”
”That doesn't have anything to do with you.”
He lifted his eyes, gaze shuttered. ”No?”
”Not unless being a werewolf transforms you into a wolf and and a redneck moron.” a redneck moron.”