Read Online A Cat's Chance in Hell by Sharon Hannaford - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sharon Hannaford
Ads: Link
tone.
“ I do know the way around my own house,” she said reprovingly. “I’ll find my own way once I’m finished my coffee. Now, scat before I send you home, Labrador.”
“ Woof, woof,” Kyle responded obligingly, and, grabbing his coffee, headed for the shower.
A few minutes later she popped her head into the bathroom. He was already standing under the flow of hot, soothing water, trying not to wince as the water washed over his lacerations. Nudity didn’t bother either of them and they had long since stopped worrying about the societal norms for opposite-sex best friends. Slinky was still wrapped around her neck and Razor was winding himself between her legs.
“ Do you need new dressings?” she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of the shower.
He looked down at the wounds to see how far the healing had come.
“ Hmm,” his voice floated back. “Yeah, probably a good idea if you don’t want blood on the sheets.”
“ I don’t think Rose needs that much extra work; come to my room when you’re done, and I’ll help,” she called retreating from the bathroom. “The emergency kit is in the hall closet, bring it with you,” she yelled over her shoulder as she headed down the corridor to her bedroom.
A while later they had clumsily managed to redress Kyle’s wounds. He grimaced when he saw the tears and bruising on his side, eternally grateful for the werewolf blood that would heal him in a matter of days. If he’d been full human he would’ve been out of action for weeks, if not months.
Twenty minutes later Gabi sank into stingingly hot bath water in her large en-suite bathroom, wincing as she submerged her burned fingers, and then sighing as the heat began seeping into her stiff muscles, easing the tension in her neck and shoulders. She wondered how bad Kyle’s injuries looked as she thought of them clumsily trying to redress his wounds. By the size of the dressing pads he’d given her to hold in place they were not little scratches. He would be appreciating his Werewolf blood right about now. When they’d finished patching him up he’d given her a quick hug, jumping back before she could smack him for it, and left her to her bath. She heard him draw her bedroom curtains closed before he left the room and wondered if it would make any difference to her whether the sun was streaming into her room in a few hours. She doubted she was going to get any sleep; although utterly exhausted, her mind was whirling with “what-if” scenarios. She tried using some of the meditation techniques her various martial arts instructors had tried to drum into her, but she hadn’t been particularly good at them, even in the best of circumstances. Eventually the water cooled and she reluctantly got out, towelled off and crawled into her huge comfortable bed, snuggling up with Razor sprawled out on one side of her and Slinky on the other. Somehow the exhaustion won, and she slept.
She slowly became aware of voices somewhere in the house, trying to stay hushed, but clear to her hearing anyway. She didn’t even bother opening her eyes; she hadn’t had nearly enough sleep yet, so she resorted to burying her head under a pillow. As the pillow came in contact with her cheek the burn mark stung, and memories of the previous night flowed back like a tidal wave. Now, having not opened her eyes on waking, she was extremely reluctant to do so, and discover whether dark fog still blanketed her sight. In fact her stomach began churning anxiously at the thought of it. Like a little girl hiding under the bedcovers because she thinks there are monsters in the room, she berated herself. She hadn’t been scared like this since she saw Byron’s face when he came to the house to tell them of her father’s death. She knew she would have to do it eventually, and with the voices in the house she knew she wasn’t going to be left alone for much longer. Still procrastinating, she began picking out the individual
“ I do know the way around my own house,” she said reprovingly. “I’ll find my own way once I’m finished my coffee. Now, scat before I send you home, Labrador.”
“ Woof, woof,” Kyle responded obligingly, and, grabbing his coffee, headed for the shower.
A few minutes later she popped her head into the bathroom. He was already standing under the flow of hot, soothing water, trying not to wince as the water washed over his lacerations. Nudity didn’t bother either of them and they had long since stopped worrying about the societal norms for opposite-sex best friends. Slinky was still wrapped around her neck and Razor was winding himself between her legs.
“ Do you need new dressings?” she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of the shower.
He looked down at the wounds to see how far the healing had come.
“ Hmm,” his voice floated back. “Yeah, probably a good idea if you don’t want blood on the sheets.”
“ I don’t think Rose needs that much extra work; come to my room when you’re done, and I’ll help,” she called retreating from the bathroom. “The emergency kit is in the hall closet, bring it with you,” she yelled over her shoulder as she headed down the corridor to her bedroom.
A while later they had clumsily managed to redress Kyle’s wounds. He grimaced when he saw the tears and bruising on his side, eternally grateful for the werewolf blood that would heal him in a matter of days. If he’d been full human he would’ve been out of action for weeks, if not months.
Twenty minutes later Gabi sank into stingingly hot bath water in her large en-suite bathroom, wincing as she submerged her burned fingers, and then sighing as the heat began seeping into her stiff muscles, easing the tension in her neck and shoulders. She wondered how bad Kyle’s injuries looked as she thought of them clumsily trying to redress his wounds. By the size of the dressing pads he’d given her to hold in place they were not little scratches. He would be appreciating his Werewolf blood right about now. When they’d finished patching him up he’d given her a quick hug, jumping back before she could smack him for it, and left her to her bath. She heard him draw her bedroom curtains closed before he left the room and wondered if it would make any difference to her whether the sun was streaming into her room in a few hours. She doubted she was going to get any sleep; although utterly exhausted, her mind was whirling with “what-if” scenarios. She tried using some of the meditation techniques her various martial arts instructors had tried to drum into her, but she hadn’t been particularly good at them, even in the best of circumstances. Eventually the water cooled and she reluctantly got out, towelled off and crawled into her huge comfortable bed, snuggling up with Razor sprawled out on one side of her and Slinky on the other. Somehow the exhaustion won, and she slept.
She slowly became aware of voices somewhere in the house, trying to stay hushed, but clear to her hearing anyway. She didn’t even bother opening her eyes; she hadn’t had nearly enough sleep yet, so she resorted to burying her head under a pillow. As the pillow came in contact with her cheek the burn mark stung, and memories of the previous night flowed back like a tidal wave. Now, having not opened her eyes on waking, she was extremely reluctant to do so, and discover whether dark fog still blanketed her sight. In fact her stomach began churning anxiously at the thought of it. Like a little girl hiding under the bedcovers because she thinks there are monsters in the room, she berated herself. She hadn’t been scared like this since she saw Byron’s face when he came to the house to tell them of her father’s death. She knew she would have to do it eventually, and with the voices in the house she knew she wasn’t going to be left alone for much longer. Still procrastinating, she began picking out the individual
Similar Books
