Wren gave me a long, considering look. I let out a breath when she said, “Agreed. We get Sylvie safe. Then we worry about Silas.” She picked up her phone from the coffee table. “I’ll fill in the rest of the team on Ghost Trace, get them working on whatever they can dig up. You go sleep. We’ll wake you up for food. Later.”
I gave her a salute and turned down the hall. Sylvie was already back in bed, her eyes half closed. That sweet smile I was coming to love spread across her face when I closed the door behind me. “For a minute, I wondered if I was dreaming that you were back.”
“Nope, not a dream. Sit up for me so you can takethese.” I held out my hand with the pills and a bottle of water. “Drink as much as you can.”
She did, and as soon as she handed me back the empty bottle, I tossed it in the recycle bin, stripped back down to my boxers, and slid into bed, pulling her into my arms. “Do you want me to put on the TV for a while, or are you tired enough to sleep?”
“You can if you want,” she said, curling into me and resting her cheek on my chest, her hand on my shoulder, fingers tracing swirly symbols along my skin. “I’m good now that you’re here.”
“So am I.” I stroked a hand down her back, feeling like everything was exactly as it was supposed to be.
It was a ridiculous thought with as many problems as we had swirling around us. Sylvie still had a killer on her trail. We were no closer to finding Silas, and it sounded like his assassin was a step ahead. And now we had the mysterious Ghost Trace to figure out. I craned my neck to press a kiss to the top of Sylvie’s head. We’d deal with all of that. Later. For now, I was going to sleep with her in my arms.
However the rest of it worked out, I had everything I wanted right here.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
SYLVIE
We slept for most of the day, waking to the smell of marinara and melted cheese to find a pasta casserole from a nearby takeout place warming in the oven. A note was stuck to the counter.
Eat. Hydrate. Go back to bed.
Follow orders, or your babysitters will be back.
M and W
“I didn’t realize they left,” I said, smiling down at the note. Looking around, I saw that we were alone in the apartment. My stomach growled.
“Food,” Eli said beside me.
“Definitely,” I agreed.
I served up huge portions, and we carried them to the table. I sank into the chair gratefully. Every time I woke, I was steadier—my throat less raw, my head less tender. I wasn’t back to normal yet, but I was getting there.
The second the tang of the marinara and the delicious, savory cheese hit my tongue, my appetite flared to life. When I shoveled in the first bite, my taste buds sang with joy, my empty stomach demanding more. I didn’t watch Elieat and hoped he wasn’t looking at me, my hunger defeating any attempt at table manners.
When the plate was empty, I sat back, my hand over my very full stomach, and let out a sigh. Looking across the table, I saw Eli in much the same position, his eyelids drooping.
I thought of the note Miranda and Wren had left. Eat, check. Hydrate—there were bottles of water in the fridge. And sleep. How could I be tired again?
Half an hour ago, I might have said there was no way I could go back to sleep. Not so soon. I’d spent so much time out cold in the last few days that I had to be topped up on sleep, but now that my stomach was full, a nap sounded like heaven.
“Bed,” Eli said, echoing my thoughts. “I shouldn’t still be so wiped out, but?—”
“It’s not just you,” I assured him. “You grab the plates. I’ll grab the water.”
“Works for me.” He rose, following me to the kitchen. The plates clattered in the sink. I grabbed four bottles of water, handing Eli one, tucking two under my arm, and opened the fourth, drinking as I walked. My eyes wanted to close, fatigue already weighing me down.
We crawled back in bed. Eli grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV. I curled into him, my head on his chest, his arm holding me close, fingers tugging gently at the end of my braid. He settled on an action movie I’d seen years before, and I let out a hum of agreement.
My eyes were sliding shut before we got to the first commercial. By the time the detergent jingle ended, I was out. I surfaced later, my bladder demanding a trip to the bathroom, and slid back in bed, cuddling into Eli. His armstightened around me in his sleep, his lips shaping my name on a soft exhale as they brushed the top of my head.
So many things pressed on us. We still hadn’t caught the bomber. We didn’t know what Ghost Trace was or where to find Silas. And all of that aside, I had my burned-out van to deal with, and my as-yet-unrecorded next season.
None of those worries kept me awake. I’d deal with the rest later. No, I was pretty surewe’ddeal with the rest. Later.
I slipped back into sleep, content exactly where I was, wrapped in Eli’s arms.
