He glanced down. “It’s just a scratch.”
“Scratches don’t bleed like that.” She put her cookie down, moved closer, and reached for his shirt collar to peek at the wound. It was about two inches long, above his battle marks. “This is way more than a scratch.”
“It’s nothing. I’ll throw a Band-Aid on it.”
“Warriors heal fast, but it’ll take more than a Band-Aid to cover that. I saw Coira put a first aid kit under the sink.”
“Aye, nurse, but don’t get too close. I haven’t showered yet. I’d hate to overpower you with my manly scent.”
Bree gathered the first aid kit and turned to find Ronan easing his T-shirt over his head. Jiminy Christmas! His chest was a work of art. His battle marks looked similar to Faelan’s, but they ran in two rows down the center of his chest.
Bree examined the wound. “Don’t tell me one of your girlfriends did this.”
He lifted a dark brow. “Somebody’s been telling tales. Just taking care of some unfinished business. It got a little messy.”
“Angus?”
He nodded. “I tracked down the demons that attacked him. Three of them. They wouldn’t say who ordered the attack. I’d say someone thought Angus knew something important.”
“You went after them alone?”
“I fight solo.” Ronan’s jaw was hard. Guilt flashed in his eyes. He watched her clean his wound, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, as if the words came from a sacred place. “My older brother was killed by a demon. I was there but I couldn’t save him.”
Like Faelan and Liam. Did all warriors feel responsible for everyone around them? “I’m sorry.” Bree wiped a drop of blood that ran down one of his marks, and her head started to buzz. “But you shouldn’t go out alone.” She covered the wound with antibacterial cream. “Getting yourself killed won’t bring Cam back.”
Ronan’s whole body tensed. “How did you know about Cam?”
“Who?”
“Cam. My brother.”
“You just told me.”
“Not his name.”
“I said his name? Are you sure?”
“Maybe I imagined it.” He rubbed his eyes. “Old ghosts.”
“Do you think those demons followed Angus here? He said something about a traitor. If they know where the house is—”
“I don’t think they got that far. If they did, they won’t be talking now. I have a hard time believing there was a traitor in the clan.” But like Sean, Ronan looked more worried about the matter than he sounded.
“There you go,” Bree said, smoothing the last piece of tape. “Next time, take someone with you.”
“Thank you. Faelan’s a lucky man. I am too, to have such a bonny nurse,” he said, inspecting his new bandage, almost touching his talisman.
“Are all talismans different?”
“Aye. Some look similar, but no two are alike.”
“I can’t imagine wearing something so powerful around your neck. I mean one flash of Faelan’s and those halflings were gone, right before my eyes.”
Ronan’s mouth dropped. “You saw the light from his talisman?”
“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You watched an engaged talisman? Bloody…” He stared at her, frowned, and shook his head. “The time vault must have messed it up. If you’d looked at the Mighty Faelan’s talisman full strength, we wouldn’t be sitting here swiping cookies. You, my bonny lass, would be dead.”
“That’s what Faelan said.”
“His talisman has probably killed more demons than any warrior who’s lived. He was the first warrior in two hundred years to be assigned one of the ancient demons, the only one to be assigned two of them.”
“Why aren’t they usually assigned?”
“They’re too powerful. Cody MacBain’s the only one who’s been assigned one since Faelan.”
“Who does the assigning?”
“Michael.”
“This warrior? Where is he?”
“Oh, here and there.” Ronan rubbed his stomach. “I think that last cookie was one too many.”
“I should have stopped after the third.” Bree replaced the first aid kit while Ronan put the cookie jar back. They rinsed the glasses and loaded them in the dishwasher.
“I know nothing about this.” Holding his shirt in one hand, Ronan took her arm and led her from the kitchen.
