ChapterEleven
Wren
Corson pulled me from my reverie when he stepped so close his chest brushed against my arm. “Not all demons are likethat.Some—”
“We should probably stop talking now.” I couldn’t stand to hear him making excuses for the monsters who had brutalized my mother. “Thatthingwillhearus.”
“We’re not all like that,” he said again. His warmth against my side vanished when he turned awayfromme.
And what areyoulike? I almost asked him, but I clamped my mouth shut against the question. I didn’t want to know what he was like, or anything more about him than necessary. So why did I suddenly feel so alone? Why did his lack of warmth leave me feeling like that eight-year-old child watching her mother die all overagain?
This time I heard his footfalls stop before I walked into him. I didn’t hear him turn, but his hands fell onto my arms and then slid up to my shoulders. I tried to shrug him off, but the gesture came out feeble, and even I recognized it as half-hearted.
“How old were you when your mother died?” he asked in a raspyvoice.
“What difference does that make?” This time my attempt to shrug him off was stronger, but he still didn’tletgo.
“I’m trying to get to know youbetter.”
“Why?” I asked distrustfully. I would give anything to see his eyes, to try to read what he was thinking, but the dark wouldn’t yield itssecrets.
His thumb stroking my cheek caused a strange flutter in my belly. Was this what people meant when they said they had butterflies in their stomach? It had to be, and these weren’t small butterflies; no, these were behemoths flapping against my insides. My mind screamed at me to get away from him, but my head turned until his thumb brushed overmylips.
My heart beat so fast I believed it might explode out of my chest. Corson moved closer until I could feel him standing over me as he touched me with a reverence I wouldn’t have expected from him. With tender hands, he lifted my face, and his thumb stilled onmylips.
I felt the increase of his breathing against my chest, and I realized my breath had fallen into rhythm with his. He pulled my lip down a little, and before I could register the thought, my traitorous tongue slid out to lick histhumb.
I quickly regained control of my insanity and stopped, but the salty taste of his flesh lingered on my tongue, and I wanted more of it.Why does he have to taste so good?I wondered as my head spun and a sound of pleasure rumbledfromhim.
Step away!But I remained unmoving as his thumb caressed my lipsagain.
It’s only because of the dark, only because this could be the end that you’reallowingthis!
My mind screamed this at me, but I knew it was more. Corson had intrigued me since we’d first met. The dark and possibly impending death made me more willing to let some of my curiosity be satisfied, but they were not the only reasons why I was allowing this tocontinue.
Would hekissme?
If he tried to kiss me, I’d knee his nuts into hisstomach.
Liar!
Damn inner voice! But it was right, and I found myself unable to breathe as I waited to see what he woulddonext.
He drew me closer until his breath tickled my mouth. I barely felt the feathery touch of his lips as they moved over mine, but they sent prickles of awareness throughout my body. He was barely kissing me, yet I felt it all the way to the tips of my toes, and Iwantedmore.
Then, he stopped. The fullness of his bottom lip and the stiffness of his upper one pressed against mine as he remainedunmoving.
I almost mewled a protest over this unbearable teasing, but I managed to keep it back so I could at least maintain some semblance of dignity. Was he playing with me? Why washenot—
I never had a chance to finish that question before Corson spun away from me. His arm swung up against my chest, and a hiss sounded. The hair on my nape rose as I realized what the dark hid. Something splattered over the rocks, but whether it was ouro blood or Corson’s, I didn’t know. The weight of Corson’s body was ripped away from me. Something thudded, and Corson grunted as rocks clattered against eachother.
Pulling my gun free of its holster, I aimed it before me. Corson wasn’t directly in front of me anymore, that was all I knew as I fired and prayed I didn’t hit him with any of the bullets. The deafening reverberations caused my ears to ring as I kept pulling thetrigger.
We’d brought a lot of ammunition with us when we’d left the wall, but after years of skimping on bullets, it felt reckless to fire so many now when I had no idea if I would hit anything, but shoot them I did. Most Wilders knew how to make bullets, but wasting necessities wasn’t something weeverdid.
I’d do whatever it took to help Corson though and put an end to this monstrosity stalking us. Flashes lit the tunnel every time I pulled the trigger, and I found myself preferring the dark as each shot briefly illuminated the ouro I’d seen bythejinn.
Dirt and rocks crunched under my boots as I shuffled rapidly from side to side. I kept firing so the creature wouldn’t know for sure where I was, though it wouldn’t be difficult to locate me in thistunnel.
