Siren in the Wind Book One of the MIT Series

Chapter Six

Evans handed Max her key card to access the complex. Once in the carport, he helped her out of the car. Awareness of her fragility added to the simmering anger. Max didn't want to feel protective or responsible. This was a convenient way into her guarded life. All that mattered was getting to Khalid, and Evans was the golden ticket. She tried to brush him off at the gate to her yard. Not happening. Max grabbed the house keys.

"I'll patch you up. When I'm done, John will pick me up at the gate."

"I can take care of myself." She stumbled, would have fallen if Max didn't grab her around the waist, leading her up to the front door.

"Just like you're walking all on your own?" He unlocked the layers of security and guided her in.

"Not my sofa. I don't want bloodstains. The guest bathroom is down the passage to the right. There's a first aid kit under the sink."

Max guided her to the toilet and pulled the kit out, dreading to see what it contained. Most civilian outfits were useless. They included generic items like burn cream, cheap Band-Aids, small stretch bandages and maybe a tube of antiseptic ointment.

His fully stocked military-issue kit—sat in his room, just a hundred feet away. If she didn't have supplies he could work with, he would make an excuse to run out to the pharmacy and pick up supplies across the lot. But hers was a well-stocked box. It shouldn't surprise him. Every facet of her life was well organized. Why would she need such a large kit? Max filed the question away for later analysis and grabbed the iodine.

A dark smudge on her neck caught his eye. Brushing her hair back revealed a rapidly bruising bite mark.

"The son of a bitch bit you?"

Jumping at his voracity, she nodded.

"Shit. Jesus. Shit." Max was up and pacing the small bathroom. "He fucking bit you!"

Putting his fist through the wall wouldn't calm the raging anger. The only release would be pounding that sick bastard's face into solid concrete over and over again. Evans's cowering forced Max to bring himself back down.

"Just give me a moment, sweetheart. You're safe with me. I just need a moment." For the next minute, the only sound in the small bathroom was uneven breathing as Max leaned on the sink and dropped his head. Finally, he looked in the mirror, meeting her wary regard. "I'll plug the slice on your forehead, but first I want to examine that neck. A human bite can lead to infection."

Kneeling down, he gently ran a finger over the injury. The individual teeth marks were obscene, but the bruised skin wasn't broken.

"I don't think you'll need antibiotics. You'll need to keep an eye on it."

"Sure." Evans's voice lacked any substance.

Her eyes showed no signs of a concussion. "How's the headache?"

"Manageable."

"Any nausea, dizziness?"

She shook her head.

Max asked a few basic questions, checking for alertness. He then donned gloves and cleaned the wound just below her hairline. She barely flinched, which surprised him. That had to sting. The gash wasn't as deep as he initially thought. Glue would work. He grabbed the Vetbond, stood up and pulled her head towards his abdomen.

Evans recoiled. "What are you doing?"

"Easy. I'll need to squeeze the wound closed to glue it. If you lean against me and tip your head back, I have a better angle."