Page 61 of Ash Storm

She recognized immediately that he was telling the truth. As a runner, she was surprised she hadn’t put two and two together before, but the dull ache on the back of her head was consistent with dehydration.

Her hand sought Ash’s, drawing strength from his presence. He gripped back, his touch strong and steady.

Slate inserted the IV quickly and efficiently.

“Thank you,” she said.

He moved away to go check on Griffin. And she couldn’t imagine what it must be like, to know his brother’s life was in his hands.

Reka shivered, suddenly cold.

“You’re safe now, Reka. I swear.”

She struggled to find her voice. “Thank you. For coming for me.”

A muscle ticked behind Ash’s jaw, but he didn’t say anything.

Moments later, Slate was back.

“Are you sure you don’t want a painkiller?” the medic asked. “I’d also like to clean your feet, if possible. I’m worried about infection setting in.”

She shook her head quickly, though the thought of somebody touching her feet made her want to wail. Then she realized the medic was waiting for her okay. “Go ahead, please.”

Even with her eyes closed, there was no missing Ash’s sharp intake of breath as Slate took off her socks. She opened her eyes again, saw his face had gone a pale yellow color. His hand gripped hers almost painfully.

“Jesus. Why didn’t you say something, Reka?”

She sat up, careful not to mess with the IV in her arm, and looked at her feet—then wished she hadn’t. The soles of her feet looked like minced meat.

“Are you sure I can’t give you something to take the edge off?” Slate asked again.

“Maybe it’s a good idea,” she agreed. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew this was going to hurt.

Slate nodded, pressing something into the IV. Within seconds, Reka felt the pain disappearing.

“This is really good stuff,” she said, pointing at her arm.

She yawned, suddenly sleepy. Ash’s laugh was the last thing she heard before falling asleep.