Page 93

“I don’t know if it even works on a human.”

“You have to try.” Zeke looked at my thigh. “We can’t just leave her like this.”

“Right now, we need to get her home. Then I’ll see what I can do.”

Ash looked at Cyn. “You need to shift back.”

Cyn’s lip curled, gaze moving around the empty parking garage.

“The rift is closed,” Ezra said.

I didn’t need to ask why Cyn stayed in his infernal form. Zeke said Cyn hated feeling threatened. And what greater threat was there than other infernals?

Ash looked down at the purse strapped across my chest. “You don’t have a change of clothes in that little bag, do you?”

I shook my head, glancing at my torn, bloody tights. “No. But I can carry my purse in front. The dark tights should hide most of the blood.”

“Good idea.” Ash looked down into the elevator shaft. “There’s no footage of this?”

“I took care of it,” Ezra said. “We need to go. We’ve left her too long. She’s already sweating.”

“I’m not hot, though. I’m actually cold now that we’re outside.”

The breeze passing through the open-air parking garage and the gaping holes in my tights left my skin chilled and pebbled with goose bumps. I didn’t understand why I was sweating when I felt so cold.

The guys shared a look.

Ash touched my forehead, then my cheeks and neck. “She’s already feverish.”

23

ANTIVENOM

EZRA

When I woke up today, I hadn’t expected to end the day banishing lesser infernals and sealing a one-way rift I couldn’t manipulate to return home.

Had Cyn not insisted on tracking the human’s phone, and Zeke hadn’t demanded we check on her when she didn’t reply to his texts, the horde would have torn her apart.

I watched her exit the bathroom from my position against her bedroom wall.

Damp strands that had fallen from her bun clung to her neck, sweat beading on her forehead. Her tan skin carried a sickly pallor, and her stormy eyes appeared dull and glassy.

My lips thinned at the sight of her loose pajama pants and baggy T-shirt concealing her form. I couldn’t explain my aversion, but I preferred the skirt she wore to the shapeless outfit.

“You need shorts so I can clean the wound,” Ash said, taking her hand and drawing her to stand before him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

She crossed an arm over her chest, gripping her upper arm with her free hand. “I already washed it when I showered.”

“I still want to check,” he said. “Humor me?”

She huffed, but I sensed she wasn’t upset.

“Fine.” She sat back against the headboard, stretched her legs, and rolled up a pant leg, exposing the angry lashes across her thigh.

Her willingness to concede to Ash surprised me; she was usually stubborn when Cyn or I confronted her.

Zeke rounded the bed and flopped onto his side next to her.