Wounds? Where?
“Stay here,” Kellan murmured.
Before I could even ask what he meant, he was on his feet, moving toward the door with a speed that did not belong to a man who had been half-dead an hour ago. He motioned for me to stay back, his hand out like he could physically keep me in place from across the room.
The knocking came again, sharper this time. I swallowed. My little cabin was not the sort of place where people showed up at night without calling first.
Kellan’s hand closed around the doorknob and he pulled it open just enough to see who it was. He didn’t relax.
“Ree? Are you home?”
I exhaled. “Miss McCoy?”
I stepped around him before he could stop me and opened the door fully. The old woman stood on my porch with her oversized raincoat pulled tight around her small frame. Her white hair stuck to her face in damp strands and she clutched a worn leather satchel to her chest.
“I am sorry for calling so late, dear,” she said, her voice carrying that warm lilt I’d known all my life. “But I was doing my books and realized the water bill has a small increase this month. The notice only came in today.”
“Oh,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at Kellan, who had not moved away from the doorway. “That’s fine, you could’ve told me tomorrow.”
Her eyes shifted then. They landed on him.
I swear I saw something flicker across her face — recognition, shock, maybe even fear — but it was gone so fast I almost convinced myself I imagined it. She smiled at me like nothing had happened, but her fingers tightened on the satchel.
“Well, I thought I’d best let you know straight away,” she said. “I’ll leave you to your evening now.”
I thanked her and watched her walk back down the narrow path toward her house, her boots making soft squelches in the wet ground.
When I closed the door, I leaned against it for a second, frowning.
“That was your neighbor?” Kellan asked.
“Yes. Miss McCoy. She’s been here since before I was born. Sweetest person you could meet.” I hesitated. “I just don’t know why she came all the way here in the rain to tell me about a water bill. She’s never done that before.”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he crossed the room and lowered himself back onto the couch. I tried not to notice how his movements were smoother now, how he didn’t seem to wince the way injured people should.
I broke the silence. “Tomorrow, I’m taking you to the hospital. After that, to the police. Someone might be looking for you.”
His eyes darkened, but he only said, “We’ll see.”
I ignored the chill that crept up my spine. “For now, I’ll get the guest room ready. You can sleep there.”
As I turned away, he said softly, “Wait. Can I ask you something?”
I looked back. “What?”
“Before I go to bed… would you mind checking my injuries? I think you should see for yourself how I’m doing.”
I blinked. “Are you sure? I mean… I’m not a nurse.”
He gave a small shrug. “You seem careful enough.”
I found myself crossing the room before I could talk myself out of it. Sitting beside him on the couch, I tried to keep my voice even. “Alright, let’s see.”
He didn’t move as I reached for the torn edge of his shirt. The fabric was soft from wear, but my fingertips were clumsy, partly because my pulse had picked up again. As the cloth shifted, my eyes fell on the place where I’d seen bruises earlier.
Except… there was no wound. No deep gash. No fresh blood. Only a faint smear of dried brown around unbroken skin.
I froze. “What…? Where were you injured? Where is the wound?”
He watched my face as I leaned in closer, brushing the dried blood away. There was nothing underneath.
“I could’ve sworn…” My voice trailed off. I glanced at the other side of his ribs where there had been another ugly slash. The shirt pulled away easily under my hands and my stomach dropped. No wound. No bruise. Just bare, warm skin.
My hand flew back like I’d touched fire. “Kellan, this isn’t possible.”
I stood abruptly, the couch cushion springing up behind my knees. My chest was tight.
“Ree—” He reached out, but I stepped back.
“Don’t. Just… don’t.” My voice cracked. “This is not normal. I saw blood. I saw the cuts. You don’t just heal in an hour.”
He rose to his feet, moving toward me slowly. His eyes were steady, but there was something urgent in them.
“I can explain,” he said. “Please let me explain.”
I backed away until my shoulder hit the wall. The rain outside was louder now, drumming hard against the windows. My breathing matched its rhythm.
He stopped a few feet from me, his hands slightly raised like I was an animal he didn’t want to spook. “You’re not in danger from me, Ree. I promise you that.”
My voice was barely a whisper. “Then what are you?”