"Changeling wolf claws and teeth, if I'm not mistaken," Tamsyn said, looking to Brenna for confirmation.
"Yes. In full wolf form." She didn't know if that made any difference, but it seemed to be the sort of thing a healer would want to know.
"That shouldn't be a problem, but I'll give him an antibiotic shot anyway. Judd, are you allergic to anything?"
Judd shook his head very slowly. "Antibiotic fine."
"Good thing we're not infectious," Nate said from his position leaning against the counter, "or you'd be going furry pretty damn soon."
Brenna jerked up her head, about to tell him to stop with the cracks, when she realized he was trying to distract Judd from what had to be excruciating pain. Not that you could tell from looking at him.
She'd grown up around hard men - Riley was a SnowDancer lieutenant and when Andrew wasn't babysitting her, he controlled the volatile San Diego sector for Hawke. Her father had been a soldier, too. But even her brothers would've winced at least once by now, and she knew for sure that they'd have sworn a blue streak and probably picked a fight with Nate to keep their minds off their mangled skin.
Not Judd. He was as unmoving as a statue.
Cleaning away the blood, she accidentally touched the raw edge of a wound. Her stomach clenched as if the hurt were her own. "I'm sorry, baby." Just because he showed nothing didn't mean it didn't hurt. Surely even Psy were incapable of shutting down their pain receptors.
His gaze never moved off her. The contact was intense in spite of the creeping fog in his eyes, but she held it, unable and unwilling to leave him to suffer in the cold loneliness of Psy Silence.
"I'm going to start stitching you up," Tamsyn said, breaking the heart-pounding connection. "Here comes the antiseptic."
Brenna had her hand on Judd's chest as she wiped away a final red streak and even so close, she didn't feel him flinch. That was beyond control - it was terrifying. What had Judd been through to gain such merciless command over his physical responses?
She saw Tamsyn pull out the stitch gun. "Wait! Aren't you going to anesthetize him?" Those snapping stitches hurt.
"Psy have odd reactions to drugs, anesthetics included. Sascha and Faith put themselves under." The healer met Judd's eyes. "Can you do that for me?"
He gave a small nod. "Yes." Closing his eyes, he went absolutely still. Brenna couldn't even hear him breathe.
Handing Nate the bloody towel, Brenna gripped Judd's hand and watched Tamsyn begin repairing muscle damage with a tiny internal-use stitch gun. "You're very good."
"I have a medical degree. Figured I might as well back up the healing gifts with good solid knowledge and equipment so I don't spend my healing energy unnecessarily." There was a darkness to the other woman's tone, as if she were remembering a time when her gifts hadn't been enough to save a life. "And you know how it is - we can assist each other with ideas and strategies, but changeling healers' gifts only really work well within our own animal species. I can't even get the gift to recognize Judd."
Brenna nodded. "What did you mean about the drugs?"
"Hmmm." She handed a slender metallic torch over to Brenna. "Shine that here so I can see what I'm doing."
Keeping one hand on Judd's, she did as asked. The beam delineated every tear, every shredded piece of flesh. Worry clawed through her veins, but she made sure her hand didn't shake.
"It's got something to do with their abilities and how energy is processed," Tamsyn said, picking up the thread of the conversation. "That's why Jax messes them up so bad."
Nate's explanation was blunter. "Drugs f**k with their powers. Sascha refuses to touch even beer or wine."
It put a whole new spin on what Judd had told her about Jax. "I didn't know that."
"Makes you wonder why they take Jax in the first place," Nate said. "Doesn't go with their need for control."
"Maybe they want to forget what they've become." Tamsyn's tone was sad. "Jax degrades memory, too."
Nate grunted. "Whatever the reason, it's still the weak ones who take it."
She understood. No matter what the race - changeling, human, or Psy - it was the weak, broken, or damaged members who succumbed. Brenna's lips tightened. Pain was no excuse for becoming an addict - she hadn't taken the easy way out and oh, how she'd wanted to. But the worst were the dealers, the scum who preyed on the vulnerable.
"So," Nate asked, "you know who did this?"
Her stomach curdled. "Can we talk about that afterward? I think Judd should be awake for it."
"Fair enough. I have to let Lucas and Hawke know you're here."
"Can you hold off for a few hours?" It would give Judd time to recover at least a little and she needed him at her back. If what she believed was true, then she couldn't do this alone.
The leopard male studied her for several seconds. "Give me a good reason."
Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath. The iron-rich scent of blood was overpowering to her senses. Her eyes snapped open. "Because I scented my family on Judd before the rain washed the markers away."
"Shit."
Judd returned to consciousness two hours after they'd arrived, his eyes looking a touch feverish but otherwise clear. Too clear, given the extent of his injuries.
"What, you gave yourself a psychic blood transfusion?" Tamsyn asked in a tart tone at odds with the concern on her face.
Judd flexed the hand of his bandaged arm, the thin white gauze appearing deceptively weak. "I need some food to replace the energy I lost." Not an answer.