Page 33 of On Burning Paths

"It’s a habit I'm forming with you, it seems." He exhales slowly. "Does this one earn me a kiss?"

I consider it a moment longer than is strictly necessary. "Maybe. Heal up first."

He makes a sound that might be a laugh if he had more air to spare. "Something to look forward to."

We move slowly, much more slowly than we should. His weight shifts against me with every step, and twice I have to stop entirely and brace myself while he finds his feet again. Once, his knees buckle and I grab a fistful of his shirt and pull, and we stand there for a moment in the middle of the woods while he breathes through it.

"Stay with me," I tell him.

"I'm here," he mutters. His head drops slightly, then lifts again. "I'm here."

"I know. Keep talking."

"About what?"

"Anything. The balls your family threw. The desserts. Whatever comes to mind."

He makes a rough exhale. "There was this one where my mother had the entire hall decorated in white and silver." There’s a pause while he steadies. "The food alone took a week to prepare."

"Keep going," I say.

He does, slowly, in fragments, while I half carry him through the trees. The camp feels much further away than it should. What should have taken five minutes stretches to fifteen.

By the time the cave entrance comes into view between the trees, my shoulder is burning and Talon's voice has gone quiet again.

"Almost there," I tell him.

"Told you," he murmurs. "Excellent company."

The second we come into view, Thorian and Fenric are on us instantly, taking the vampire and setting him on the ground inside the cave, so he can lean against a rock.

"What happened?" Thorian demands, while Fenric kneels down, looking at the wound on Talon's chest and sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of it.

"It's just a scratch," Talon jokes, and Fenric shakes his head. Talon sobers slightly, then nods toward me. "It was meant for her. A trapping spell. But since the casting was meant to hit her, when it hit me, it just turned to pure energy."

“Gods,” I mutter, dropping to my knees beside him. I’ve been operating on adrenaline. I hadn’t fully processed the fact that his shirt is now burned and that a wound peeks out from beneath the tatters of his shirt.

“It should have obliterated you,” Fenric says, pouring some water over the wound while Talon hisses, wincing. The edges are singed, his skin red and black in some spots. The wound is right over his heart.

“Well, one perk of being a bloodsucker is the resistance to magic,” Talon says, jerking his head at Thorian. “He’ll know all about it.”

“Sure,” Thorian mutters, his eyes on the vampire. “Still not sure I would have taken the shot to my chest.”

“You would have,” Talon says, looking up at him. “Otherwise, it was going to hit her.”

Silence descends over our little group, and I realize that, while kneeling next to his spot on the ground, I’ve picked up Talon’s cool hand and cradled it in my own. He turns to look at me, and I surprise myself, and everyone else I think, by leaning forward and pressing my lips to his.

They’re cool, like the rest of him, and he keeps them firmly shut. The kiss is chaste, quick. “Thank you,” I say when I pull back, my body creating enough heat now for the two of us. I’m still holding his hand, and I can feel the weight of Thorian and Fenric’s eyes heavy on me. “For saving my life.”

Talon clears his throat and shrugs, clearly trying to look nonchalant. And he manages to, mostly, pull it off. “All in a day’s work.”

“I’ll see if I can find some nettles and dandelions,” Fenric says, getting to his feet. “I can make a healing paste.”

Talon waves his hand, closing his eyes and leaning back against the rock. “No matter. It will heal by the morning. Just let me rest.”

Fenric shrugs and glances at the ring of rocks in the cave he and Thorian prepared. “Well, we’ll be needing that firewood.”

"I'll get more," I offer.