Wrapping her arm around his waist, she helped Declan through the woods. Careful to keep branches from hitting him, she ran as fast as she could with him. She thought she’d be relieved to see the sun starting to rise, but she was too concerned about him to rejoice over a new day. She now carried most of his weight as his head lulled forward before rising again.
Every part of her body ached, but she ignored the discomfort and the strain of his weight as she continued onward. If the Savages discovered them now, they’d easily take them over. The color still covered his body, but she didn’t think Declan could defend himself anymore.
When he staggered and went to his knees, Willow jerked him up and tucked the hilt of the sword beneath her armpit so she could carry more of his weight. They both desperately needed to feed, but she didn’t dare stop to hunt. Even with the sun up, she was afraid to waste the time it would take to track something.
When he lost consciousness, Willow kept her arm under his shoulders as she dragged him through the woods. Sweat ran down her back, she was still able to keep up a steady jog, but her legs were weakening. It didn’t matter; she would carry him to Antarctica if it got them out of these woods. Did they everfuckingend?
She protected Declan from the branches that slapped her face and tore at her hair. She stumbled over roots and hit her knees off a rock when they both fell. Feeling weaker with every passing hour, she still dragged them back to their feet and continued.
She had no idea when they would finally catch a reprieve, or when the Savages would descend on them, but they couldn’t have much time left.
The sun shone high in the sky, and she guessed it was around noon when she fell against the side of an embankment. Releasing Declan, she rolled over to stare at the pristine sky through the arching branches of the oak trees surrounding her.
She would love to sleep for a few hours, but there was no time for it. She did give herself a few minutes to catch her breath before rolling to face Declan. Resting her head on her arm, she gazed at his slack face as she laid her hand on his cheek and ran her fingers through his auburn hair.
The blood caked in his hair turned it a deeper shade of auburn. The red and black color remained throughout what she could see of his body. She didn’t know why it wasn’t leaving him, but he’d lost so much blood and sustained so many wounds that he’d stopped healing. Or he was healing so slowly that she couldn’t tell it was happening.
She had to get him somewhere safe so she could remove the bolts and bullets and feed him. But that was a lot easier said than done.
Refusing to let her fear for him take over, she rested her hands on the ground and was about to push herself up when she heard the low rumble of something in the distance. Willow froze as her heart lurched sickeningly in her chest.
Then, gripping the sword, she drew it before her as she prepared to slice her way through a horde of Savages. Except, the woods remained quiet, and she didn’t smell the stench of rot. It wasn’t Savages coming for her, but then what was it?
And then her exhausted, overwrought brain clicked the noise into place, and she almost kicked herself for being an idiot. The sound wasn’t from approaching Savages; it was the rumble of tires on the road.
A car! Freedom!
A strangled cry escaped, and she shoved the sword under a bunch of leaves before lifting Declan. She hated to leave the weapon behind, but if she jumped into the middle of the road while waving a sword, a human would probably run her over, and she wouldn’t blame them. However, they might take one look at her in her current condition andstillrun her over.
Willow scrambled up the embankment and set Declan carefully down by the side of the road. She barely looked where she was going before flinging herself into the middle of the street. Tires squealed, rubber burned, and she glimpsed a metal grill barreling toward her before she threw up her hands and turned her face away.
She didn’t breathe as she waited for the vehicle to hit her, but the impact never came as the truck screeched to a halt. It was so close that when she lowered her hands, they rested on the warm hood.
The middle-aged man behind the wheel stared at her from under the brim of a white cowboy hat with feathers sticking out of its black band. His brown eyes were wide in disbelief as his jaw hung ajar. Then he clamped his mouth shut, and anger clouded his cantankerous face.
“Are you out of your mind?” he demanded out of his open window.
“I need your help,” Willow said.
“Are you on drugs?”
“I’m not on drugs.”
“What happened to you?”
“I was in an accident.”
The man snorted in disbelief. “This is one of those robbery type of things, isn’t it? Get out of my way, or I’ll hit you!”
“I’m not going to rob you.” Willow lowered her hands from the hood and edged toward the side of it. When she did, he hit the gas. “No!”
She jumped back in front of the vehicle, and this time, the bumper hit her knees and staggered her back a step. She glared at the man; he glared back at her. If she wasn’t out of his way soon, hewouldrun her over.
Drawing on her dwindling reserves of strength and power, she held his gaze while she spoke. “You’re going to put your truck in park, move over, and let me take it.”
She contemplated pulling the angry asshole out of the vehicle, draining him, and using his blood to strengthen Declan, but she couldn’t do that. He was pissed and willing to run her over. However, she also sensed his distress in the increased beat of his heart and the way his eyes darted around like he was waiting for someone else to emerge from the woods and attack him.
She didn’t blame him for being scared; if she were human, she’d be afraid too, but she needed his truck, and his fear was nothing compared to hers for Declan.
