“Hell,” I swore, though the words that ran through my head were much, much fouler as I reached for him. “Phelan, help me.”
“Blood loss?” Phelan reached down to help me lift Cariocecus, tucking himself under one arm while I took the other.
“It’d be a lot, but hopefully it’s not anything more than that.” My jaw tightened. “He’s still got to tell us why he’s panicking all over the place.”
“There’s a lot of blood here,” Phelan muttered as we started hauling Cariocecus’s dead weight back toward the tent. “Something got a really good piece of him.”
“Once he comes to, we’ll find out what,” I said. “Do you think it’s related to Leviathan, too?”
“I’d say odds of that are pretty good.” Phelan’s lips thinned and he shook his head. “Too good. Makes me worried. Timing’s too close. It’s got to be connected.”
“He said something about Thesan.” My stomach twisted. “You don’t think—”
“No,” Phelan said, his voice flat. “No, I don’t think she has anything to do with this. The Hunt wouldn’t let her this close. Not after what happened, not after what she tried to do, what she would have done to Seamus. She’s got nothing to do with this.”
I didn’t mention to him that I could hear the fear in his voice, the fear he tried to hide. I swallowed hard.
Thanks for trying, at least.
“What the hell’s going on?”
I winced at the sound of Davon’s voice, glancing in his direction. “Get Jac,” I called back to him. “Tell her to bring her kit to the fire.”
“That’s—that’s the shadow man.”
“Cariocecus, yes,” I said.
Davon’s eyes narrowed and he slowed his approach, watching us warily. “What’s he doing on this side of the wards?”
“He came to warn us about something on the other side,” Phelan said grimly. “But if you don’t get Jac or help us haul him under cover, he might not live long enough to tell us what he was coming to warn us about.”
Davon grimaced and hurried to help.
