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“Why bring her here?” I ask Kiva through clenched teeth.
The Mad Mae answers instead. “I’m Galena, and I was a trauma surgeon for decades before being converted as a maenad.” She gestures to her face. “The change was kind to me. Alcohol can be very preserving.” Which means the woman’s probably pushing seventy or eighty instead of the forty she appears to be. “I’m his best chance at surviving. And you are?”
“His mate,” I answer. Nolan and I can figure out specifics and semantics later. After he’s healed.
“Excellent.” She opens one of several pendants on a long chain around her neck. “A pain killer to ease the process. Nothing you wouldn’t have grown in your garden with the botanicals you use in your cosmetics.”
I nod, keeping my mouth shut since the woman knew exactly who I was before she asked. Damn maenads. If being Nolan’s mate means I can get him some care and relief, I’ll be that for him.
Galena dumps the powder in his mouth. “It’ll dissolve in seconds and start working soon after.”
Kiva presses close. “We have a bunch of people at the school seeking shelter from the bombs. With the hotel gone, we’ll need to find them somewhere to go. Yell if you need us, okay?”
“All right.” I glance at her. “I can’t lose him,” I whisper. “I don’t like him all the time, but—”
“We’re here for you,” she says. “He will be too. Have a little faith in the mating bond. It worked for me and Dottie.”
“Okay,” I tell her, not mentioning my messing the whole mating connection up. One problem at a time. She, Dottie, and Stone head out with reminders to shout and they’ll come running.
Galena gets close to Nolan’s wound, inspecting it. “Smart to leave the arrowhead in. He would’ve died if you’d forced it out in the field.” She tugs a device out of her pocket and runs it over his chest.
“What’s that?” I ask her.
“Portable scanner. I would’ve given anything for one of these in the ER where I worked. This will tell us whether we push the arrowhead through or extract it. And if it hit the lungs.”
“If it did?” My voice wobbles.
“Then he dies.” She doesn’t sound as if she cares either way, but she keeps running the scanner around the arrowhead, studying the screen as if it holds answers. “The arrowhead went deep enough we can push it through. He’s lucky. It hit no major organs. We stitch him up and he should be fine.” She stands and goes to the sink, washes her hands, and rummages for clean dish cloths. “Did you hear another bomb was found at our mansion?”
“No. Are you okay? Is your House all right?” Dear gods, what happened today? Who hates our city this much?
She lifts a shoulder. “One of my sisters found it and took it apart like a kid tearing into a toaster oven to see how it works. It’s good not to be sane.” Unrolling a clutch of tools, she tips her head toward my hands. “You’re doing fine. Keep pressure on there until I tell you to move.”
“And then?”
“Do exactly as I say. I’ll need your Fury speed and strength. Also, don’t vomit.”
My stomach lurches. “What?”
The next few minutes pass in a blur that I would rather forget. She drags a scalpel near the entry point to make an incision and then has me shove the arrow through without breaking the shaft. Her precise instructions make me wonder how many times she has done this before. She stitches him shut, runs the scanner over him a few more times, helps me get him into bed, and declares she has done all she can.
“Here’s what came out of him in case he wants it as a souvenir.” She drops a silver arrowhead into my palm, and my blood goes icy cold. “He’ll be unconscious until his shifter side heals him. Keep him still, don’t shag him until he’s better, and dose him as needed for the pain.” Packing her supplies, she leaves a vial on the nightstand.
“What if we need you?” I ask.
“The whole damn city just exploded. Everyone needs me.” Galena stops at the door and glances over her shoulder. “But if you two are ever interested in a three-way, call me.”
I sit by Nolan’s bed, waiting for a change, but he sleeps through my sisters checking on us and Tisia coming to the door.
“I brought your grimoire and shadow books,” she says.
“Oh, thank goodness. I’m lucky you kept them instead of me flying them back to the House of Furies.” There have been mixed reports about the extent of the blast, but my old room was hit.
“It wasn’t luck,” Tisia says. “The Fates kept them safe for you.”
“You played a part in that. Is your House okay?”
“The House of Gorgon’s still standing. Not that it matters.” She sighs, and I dread what’s coming. “The Syndicate has decided to close the city—permanently. Your marshal and his captain have two days to clear out. The rest of us two weeks from the time the immortals declare our new deity city. Even the Huntresses have been ordered out.”
