Running is our best option.
My eyes flick to the covered windows, and the sliver of sky I can see through the blinds is black. It’s still night, so we can’t have been driving for long. A few hours at most.
I lift my head, ignoring the splitting pain that follows, and look around for signs of life. Joseline is curled up on the opposite sofa, snoring softly beneath a blanket. There’s blood smeared across her face, probably mine, but she looks okay. Her energy is low, which makes sense considering how much I drained, but she’ll be fine.
Relief washes over me.
I drop my head back down and blow out a slow breath. Impossibly, somehow, we all made it out alive.At least, I think we did. I won’t know for sure until someone fills me in, but I’m not moving right now. I don’t think I could if I wanted to.
My eyes fall on Joseline again, and warmth swells in my chest. Truthfully, I would have been disappointed if I’d died. Angry really. If I never got to hold her or kiss her again, I fear I would have spent forever trying to escape Hell, just so I could find her and make up for lost time.
I’ve lost my damn mind.
But even as I close my eyes and try to shove the thoughts away, I know they’re the truth. Joseline has imprinted herself on me in ways I never expected, in ways I never wanted. Not to mention, she saved my life.
I’ll never be the same.
Unable to keep my eyes open for another second, I close them and quickly drift off to sleep.
When I wake up again, Joseline is no longer on the couch. For a moment, I panic, my senses on high alert, and I bolt upright. I regret it right after. Sucking in a sharp breath, I clutch my side, the edges of my vision darkening with the pain.
“Fucking hell,” I hiss.
“Easy, there,” Joseline’s voice calls from the kitchen. Her smiling face is staring at me from the counter.
She clearly took a shower, because there’s no more blood staining her face, and her hair is pulled back into a perfect ponytail. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts, which does dark, twisted things to me. I like seeing her in my clothes, almost as much as I like seeing her without anything on.
I slump against the back of the couch, trying to keep my head from spinning. I’m still impossibly drained, and I need to feed if I hope to heal faster.
“Where are we?” I don’t actually care, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.
“Somewhere in Nebraska, I think,” she answers, before crossing the space to join me on the couch. She tucks her legs up beside her, draping her arm over the back of the sofa, and stares at me.
“Are you okay?”
My eyes shift to hers, and I hate the worry I see in them. “I’m fine.”
Her expression doesn’t change, and we sit in silence for a long moment.
“You almost died,” she says softly.
I hesitate, then nod slowly. “Yeah, not one of my best moments.”
“Don’t do that again.” Her expression is nothing but serious, and I fight the urge to laugh.
“I’ll do my best.” I force a smile.
“If you want to clean up, I put fresh towels in there for you,” she says, jerking her chin toward the bathroom. “Maybe don’t get that bandage wet, though.” Her eyes fall to my chest before climbing back up. “Or you can stay like that. I don’t know, the whole wounded warrior thing is kind of doing it for me.”
I roll my eyes. “I see. You only think I’m sexy after I get my ass kicked. Good to know.”
I’m a bit wobbly as I stand, but I quickly catch my balance. Scrubbing some of this blood off isn’t a bad idea, and I’m sure there are bits of hellbeast entrailssmeared on what’s left of my clothes. I’d much rather Joseline help me wash off the worst of it—it’ll be a lot less painful that way—but I’m not asking her for favors. Especially not when I owe her for saving my life.
As I expected, bathing myself is a bitch, but I feel much better once I’m clean. I pull on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, wincing as the material brushes my raw skin. I leave my shredded ones in a pile to burn them later.
Emrys is sitting at the dining table when I emerge, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. To my surprise, he’s not wearing his mask, and his many eyes whip in my direction. He has a black eye and a few scratches down his cheek, but he looks considerably better than I feel.
“Thanks for saving my ass last night.” I attempt a smirk. “Showed up just in time.”
