My sudden movement startled the cat—or maybe angered him—and four pinpoints of agony sank into my stomach, deeper than they’d gone into my breast. I screamed, and my hand clenched around a clump of moss. The scent of my blood saturated the air. Each breath I dragged in pulled at my torn stomach, sending new waves of pain through me. Yet some distant part of me wondered if he’d accidently ripped out my belly-button ring.
The stray growled at me and retracted his claws, and overhead Jace hissed in fury, drawing the cat’s attention.
I dropped the handful of moss and let my hand skim the ground once more, this time moving slowly, to keep from startling the tom again. My fingers brushed the cold plastic plunger. My hand curled around the syringe, and I exhaled in relief.
I swung my arm up. Claws sank into my flesh again. Hot blood poured over my stomach and down my sides. One last scream ripped free from my throat. I shoved the syringe into the cat’s neck, wincing as it met gristly resistance. I pushed harder and the needle slid in.
The cat roared in pain and surprise. I shoved the plunger home. Something heavy thumped to the ground on my left, then soared toward us. My scream ended in a terrified yelp as the stray flew off me. His claws ripped loose from my flesh and I screamed again. My hands clutched at my stomach, slipping in my own blood.
Marc was at my side in an instant, pressing something to my stomach. It was his shirt. His jacket lay forgotten on the ground, his chest bare in spite of the cold. “Don’t move.” He stroked my hair with his free hand. “You’re bleeding.”
I laughed, but that hurt my stomach, so I stopped. “Ya think?”
He smiled, and pressed harder on my abdomen. “Shh,” he said, and I nodded, compliant now that I hurt too badly to argue.
Marc pulled out his cell phone and autodialed my father with one hand. Distantly I heard him read coordinates from the GPS unit, and tell our Alpha that we’d caught a stray. And that I was hurt. After that, I heard panic on the other end of the line and quit listening.
I turned my head to find Jace standing over the strange cat, who lay unmoving on the ground, the syringe still protruding from its neck. Jace had knocked the stray off me, accidentally ripping its claws from my stomach, but probably saving my life. “Thank you,” I whispered.
At the sound of my voice, Jace padded to me silently and rubbed his cheek on my shoulder. He lay down at my side, purring, and I put one bloody hand on his paw then closed my eyes.