I mutter a curse, rolling onto my back.
Myachingback.
And stare straight up into the glowering eyes of that damn kid. I forgot all about him. Forgot he was even here.
Eli.
That’s what he’s called.
He glares down at me in his dark sweatshirt, arms folded. And I sit up with a groan, cracking my neck.
“What’s your problem, kid?”
“You’re the one with the problem,” he says, continuing to glare like the broody teenager he clearly is. “You’re a coward.”
“Damn it, kid.” I stand up, rolling my shoulders until a little of the aching subsides. “You wanna fight? Is that it?”
He just laughs.
And I don’t want a fight. Not with a kid like this.
I feel old. Tired.
Older than I have in all the millennia I’ve existed.
And I can’t say I like this feeling.
I want to go back to being strong.
To being free.
Though…
As soon as I think that, a pang of loss twists deep inside. It’s that same damn lonely ache that’s tormented me as long as I can remember.
The ache that says I’ll always end up alone.
That I shouldn’t let myself get too attached.
Eli watches me as I move to the window, and I wonder if he knows I’m trying to see where that old bat is taking my human.
I hate how protective I feel.
I hate how much I care.
I shouldn’t.
But I do.
“Just tell her how you feel,” he says, and I don’t know if it’s the damn candor this kid has, or if it’s because he’s the last person I expected to pick up on anything.
Not something like this.
I cough as I turn around, trying to hide my surprise.
“Don’t know what you mean, kid.”
“Liar.” He leans against the door, blocking me from leaving. Not that he’d be able to stop me. “You know exactly what I mean.”
