Page 146 of Tin God

He remembered something his uncle had said once: Vampire blood could heal human wounds, at least on the surface. That was how they healed fang marks. Maybe it would help Tenzin too.

“Is Paulson dead?” Tenzin was leaning against the tree, but she didn’t move more than her mouth.

“You’re in pain. Yes, Paulson is dead.”

“Life is pain. I’ll survive.” She blinked, and he saw tears rolling down her cheeks.

Ben wanted to crush something, but there was nothing to crush. Their enemies were dead, but it wasn’t without cost.

“I’m going to give you blood.”

“And I’ll take it,” she said softly. “But we need to find shelter first.”

“You’re going to drink from me as soon as we find shelter.” He gently pulled the bloody cloth from the burn. “But first…” He bit deeply into his wrist and watched the blood well up.

“What are you doing?” Her voice snapped at him. “Benjamin, you were just in battle, and I know you haven’t fed. We haven’t had time to hunt, and?—”

“Tiny, shut up.” He pulled his wound open, and the blood flowed over her shoulder. “I know it’s going hurt, baby, but I need you to stretch your head so I can put my blood on your neck.”

“Do not call me baby,” she said through gritted teeth.

Tenzin stretched her neck up with aching slowness, exposing the burned curve of her shoulder, her throat, and her cheek to his gaze. “I’ve learned to live with Tiny, but I am not a child.”

“Fine.” Pissing her off was the quickest way to get her mind off the pain. “Keep your chin up.”

“Don’t order me around.”

“Baby, I haven’t even begun to order you around yet.”

She hissed at him, and the corner of his mouth went up. He much preferred angry Tenzin to quiet and hurt Tenzin.

The blood started to work, flowing over the open, angry wounds and smoothing them out until they weren’t weeping fluid. The skin would still be rippled and would probably take years to regrow since vampires healed slowly, but it wasn’t breaking open every time she moved.

“I didn’t lose an arm or anything bad,” Tenzin said. “I lost my right hand a long time ago. That took nearly a hundred years to grow back.”

A hundred years? “Fuck me.”

“Maybe tomorrow night.” She let out a slow breath. “After I hunt.”

“That wasn’t an order, but feeding from me will be,” Ben muttered.

He coated the surface of her wound again, smearing his blood from her neck down her shoulder and to the curve of her elbow, covering every inch of the wound. By the time he was finished, her skin had knitted together in angry red swirls that looked almost like an intricate flame tattoo over a quarter of her body.

Ben let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, that should help— Whoa.”

Tenzin lunged at his neck, sinking her fangs into his vein and settling in his lap as she wrapped her unhurt arm around his neck and stroked the hair at his nape.

Ben blanked out the pain of her bite and stroked a hand down her back as she fed. “Good.” He traced his fingers lightly across her back. “Take everything you need.”

She was safe. She would heal.

Paulson was dead. Zasha was dead.

His mate was wounded, but she would heal.

As soon as they found shelter, he could rest.

Two years before