“This is when a Psy would come in handy,” Dorian muttered, referring to the psychic race that was the third part of the triumvirate that was their world. “One of the telepaths could rip the information right from the bastard’s head.”

“You guys are gruesome,” said a drowsy feminine voice.

Emmett looked down to find Ria’s eyes closed. “Yeah, we are.” But he had a feeling she was already asleep, her lashes dark-moon crescents against skin so creamy, he wanted to taste it. Returning his attention to Dorian through sheer force of will, he said, “Did you find any emergency contact details in her wallet?” He’d left the young soldier to handle that while he took care of Ria.

“Yeah—parents are on their way.” Dorian’s smile was sharp. “Her daddy sounds like he’s itching for a fight, so maybe you shouldn’t look at her that way.”

“Mind your own fucking business.” He tightened his hold.

Raising his hands, Dorian backed off, laughing. “Hey, your funeral.”

“Go get a paramedic here.”

“I think Tammy just arrived—she can stitch up your girl.”

The DarkRiver healer popped into the van on the heels of Dorian’s statement. “Let me have a look at her,” she said in a soft voice, putting her kit on the floor.

Ria’s eyes snapped open at the other woman’s first touch. Emmett ran a hand down her back in reassurance. “Ria, this is Tamsyn, our healer. You can trust her.” To his leopard’s delight, he felt her body relax almost at once.

“Call me Tammy.” Tamsyn smiled. “Everyone does.”

“I know you,” Ria said an instant later. “You bought a chunk of jade from my mom’s store.”

“Alex is your mom?” Tammy smiled at Ria’s nod. “I told her I needed something to threaten my mate with when he got blockheaded, and she said, why not a block for a block?”

“That sounds more like my grandmother.”

Tammy grinned. “All women sound like their mothers after a certain age.” A wink.