Page 1038 of One More Kiss
Chapter5
The rideacross town to HQ took longer than I expected and I realized that the driver wasn’t taking a direct route. Which made sense if the shooter was after me or Clara. But if they were after Jett then they’d already know where he was headed. I guess we’d find out when we got there. If there wasn’t a welcome party then there was a good chance it wasn’t Jett they wanted.
I shivered at that. Clara would be a lot harder to protect if she was a target. And I had no idea who could be shooting at me.
Shark pulled up to the curb right in front of Hunter HQ. Jett paused with his hand on the door. “When I get out I want you to take Clara and run straight to the front door. I’ll be right behind you.”
His face was pale due to the blood loss but he was still being the hero and protecting us from the rear. I didn’t argue. Clara was my priority.
Jett slid out and crouched beside the door while Clara and I hopped out. I grabbed Clara’s arm and took off, going as fast as we could.
The front door swung open, a little creepy, and we rushed inside. I stumbled on the doorstep, a wave of dizziness hitting me. The same thing had happened the night I stole the gem. I’d been climbing in a window at the time and nearly went headfirst onto the floor. It happened when I left, too. Except it was a fifty-foot drop to the ground that had awaited me. I’d only just managed to break my fall by grabbing onto the drainpipe.
The car was pulled away from the curb as Jett sprinted for the front door. He flew inside and slammed it shut.
The door jam caught my attention. It was some sort of metal. “Iron?” I mused.
Jett frowned. “Of course. Don’t want any pesky Fae entering uninvited.”
Of course, a Fae couldn’t cross an iron threshold. Which explained my head spin. I was only half Fae so the affect wasn’t as strong, there were still side effects.
Jett led the way upstairs. The ground floor was the more formal part of the HQ, offices and such. I hadn’t been to the second floor, not officially at least. I’d have to be careful not to let it slip that I’d explored upstairs looking for the gem. Except, duh. Jett already knew that I’d been here. He’d stolen the gem back off me.
Still, being here was good. It would make it easier to find an opportunity to retrieve the gem for the second time.
We followed Jett through a maze of hallways, emerging into a huge conference room with kitchen facilities at one end.
“Have a seat.” Jett indicated a four-seater dining table in the middle of the kitchen area. It seemed counter intuitive, seeing as most of the rest of the room was occupied by a huge rectangle conference table and its corporate leather chairs. But it worked, somehow.
Jett disappeared into a walk-in pantry and emerged with a first aid kit.
“Let me.” I met him halfway, taking the kit and ushering him into a chair. To my surprise he did as I asked and sat.
When I went to remove the bandana to treat his arm he shook his head. “Clara first.”
I’d almost forgotten about her head wound.
Clara was silent, probably in shock. I peeled away her bandana and winced. Blood was still oozing out of the wound, which was right on her hairline.
“The good news is that it wasn’t a bullet. I think you got hit by some flying debris. A bit of glass maybe.”
I dug in the first aid kit and fished out some antiseptic and gauze. “Not that I’m an expert or anything, but I think you’ll live.”
I doctored her up and rinsed out my bandana before putting it in a sinkful of cold water to soak. Blood stains set in if you didn’t treat them straight away.
“Your turn.” I turned to Jett, only to find him standing right behind me and shirtless. He was well over six feet but all my attention was focused on the six inches of naked stomach. Man had abs for days. “Oh, my.”
He grinned. “What?”
I swallowed. “Funny guy.”
He brushed past me to the sink where he proceeded to rinse blood out of my tank top. My second bandana was nowhere to be seen.
“Your shoulder.” I examined him carefully. I could see where he’d been shot. The bullet had taken a chunk out of the fleshy part of his shoulder. But it was mostly healed, looking like it had happened weeks ago. I blew out a breath. “What sort of shifter are you?”
He didn’t answer, instead moving around me to grab the kettle, which he filled with water. “Mugs and tea bags are in there.” He gestured to a cupboard. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He took the waterlogged and blood stained clothing, draining the sink, and placed it into a plastic bag he found in a drawer. Then he exited the room taking my things with him.
