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.With that light went the careful control Wyatt had erected over his body.He swayedlike tall grass in a breeze.Sweat ran in thin rivulets down his cheeks. Wyatt? I m fine, he said, the hitch in his voice indicating he was anything but.He wiped hishand under his nose, smearing blood on his fingers.Even in the bad light, I could tellhe d gone pale.He glared and snapped, I said I m fine. I almost called him on it, but Wyatt would never admit to the pain he was in.Especiallyin front of Max, who hadn t moved, and any damage done was hidden by shadows.Only his face was visible, and it revealed nothing. Is there anything you can tell us, Max? Anything at all? I asked. Only that if you return, I will not be here, he said. A war is coming, Evangeline.Ihope you choose the correct side. The chilling words buried in my heart like a blade. Max, if we meet again in this life,will it be as enemies? We will not meet again. He spoke with such finality that my heart broke a little.Thereis an old joke about not making friends with your food.As a Hunter, I never shouldhave allowed my friendship with Max.Gentle or vicious, kind or cruel, at the end of theday or the world, as events were slowly pointing toward he was still a Dreg.He hadbetrayed me.Wyatt touched my shoulder. Let s go, Evy.We re done here. I let him guide me back to the exit, toward the bright morning sunlight. Trust no one, Evangeline, Max said. Not even your own people. The warning rang in my head as I climbed back out to the gravel path.Traffic rumbledand honked below, going about its morning routine, oblivious to the goings-on highabove.Wyatt shadowed me, as pale in sunlight as I d suspected in the dark.He movedslowly, carefully, like an old man afraid of falling and breaking a hip.He caught mechecking and glared, his point clear.Ignoring him, I led the way back to the stairwell and down into the bowels of thelibrary.At the bottom of the service stairwell, I reached for the utility door with tremblingfingers.My knees wobbled.The enclosed space tilted.I grabbed for the wall, but mylegs turned to jelly.Trembling arms looped around my waist, and we sank down to thesteps.Wyatt engulfed me with his arms, holding me warm and safe.Chills racked mybody.Gooseflesh broke out over my arms and chest.I leaned against him, grateful forthe support and hating myself for the sudden weakness.His breath was hot against my ear, whispering words I couldn t hear over the roar in myhead.Tears stung my eyes.I blinked rapidly and bit down on the inside of my cheek tochase them away.Freaking out right now was simply not an option.We still had toomuch work to do, and the clock never stopped, ticking away my last hours on Earthwith unflinching steadiness. I m sorry, I whispered. For what? This. I think you re entitled, Evy. One of his hands found mine, and our fingers curledtogether. I can t imagine being where you are now.Everything you knew has turned onits head, and you re doing your best to cope with it. I keep hoping I ll wake up and be grateful that it s all just a nightmare.A great big,freakish nightmare. I wish it was. He squeezed my hand, and my stomach fluttered.As urgent as our job was, and as muchas I knew we had to go find the next clue, I was perfectly content to sit there for a while.I was safe in Wyatt s arms, protected by someone as strong as me though perhapsmore powerful; I d just seen him harness the sun.Gentle fingers brushed a lock of hair away from my cheek and tucked it behind my ear.He rested his chin on my shoulder, seemingly as at ease as I was in our impromptuembrace.I could see his profile in my peripheral vision.His brow was knotted, his lipspursed.I smelled the faint odors of coffee and sweat, and a more basic scent.One Icouldn t readily put my finger on.The basic scent of a man, perhaps? It was feral,strong, and heady.And arousing.I closed my eyes, falling into the scent of him.I remembered the taste of him buthow? We never had a physical relationship.He was my boss, not my lover.So why didI remember the gentle bruising force of his kisses, the hard knots of muscle on his backand shoulders? I shouldn t know those things.Until perfectly rendered memories sped through my conscious mind, finally releasedfrom their prison.Not everything, but enough.My eyes flew open.Wyatt tensed. What is it, Evy? I clutched his hand tighter, pulling strength from him and feeling no shock or shame atwhat I now knew had happened.Only measured relief. I remember something, I said. I remember us. Chapter EightMay 11thThe empty boathouse reeks of tepid seawater and day-old fish sure signs that multiplegoblins only recently vacated the premises, since neither fish nor boat have seen itscobwebbed interior in at least a decade.It s a smell I know, specific to goblins, and asalways, it makes my stomach churn.Ash steps out from behind a pile of moldy sails, her flashlight cutting patterns in thedust and grime. So much for our hot tip, she says. You need better sources, I reply. I haven t heard your troll offer up anything lately. I shrug, in no mood to play Who Has the Better Snitch? The goblins are no longer here,but this stretch of the Black River docks is notorious for drawing the after-dark crowd.Something worse may be along soon, and we re one man down.Jesse split an hour agoto swing by Wyatt s apartment.Our Handler has been out of contact all damned daynot normal behavior for him.Not at all.Jesse should have reportedAsh s cell phone chirps.She fishes it out of her pocket and checks the screen. It sJesse. Think of the devil and he calls.She frowns, then types in a text message.Something chimes back.She puts the phoneaway. He needs us at the Corcoran train bridge ASAP. Did he say why? Her almond eyes crinkle with concern. The message said he d found Wyatt. My stomach bottoms out.I m sprinting for the car, beating back fear with a mentalstick.We re nearly a mile away on the wrong side of the river, and the drive over isinterminable.Ash is quiet, stoic, so composed next to my constant fidgeting.TheKorean American yin to my Barbie-girl yang.I m grateful for her centeredness; itmeans I don t have to drive.It occurs to me to call Jesse and demand to know exactly what he s found, only I don treally want to know.Triads survive the death of a Hunter; few survive intact andeffective after the loss of a Handler.Wyatt is our glue.He has to be fine.The train bridge is a black smudge against the navy night sky, a wrought-iron overpassthat towers above two intersecting alleys and half a dozen abandoned construction sites.Corcoran Place is a known Dreg neighborhood a trashy section of downtown with noactual stops along the train route.No one goes there on purpose.Except us.Jesse is leaning against one of the iron pylons as we approach.He stands straight andjogs over to meet our car.Ash parks in the quiet alley, and I am tumbling out before theengine is off. Where is he? I demand, circling to the front of the car. Where s who? Jesse asks, thick eyebrows knotting quizzically.He looks over myhead as Ash s car door slams shut. What s going on? You paged me half an hour agoto meet here.Did you stop for kimchi on the way? Ash snorts. Bite me, taco boy. I reach up and ball my fist around the front of his shirt. Where the fuck s Wyatt? Hell if I know, he says. He wasn t home. Ash appears by my side and gently unhooks my hand from Jesse s shirt. Then why dyou text that you d found him? she asks.Jesse blinks. I didn t text you. The knot in my stomach pulls tighter
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Tematy
IndexWarren Adler Wojna państwa Rose 01 Wojna państwa Rose
§ Menzel Iwona W poszukiwaniu zapachu snów 01 W poszukiwaniu zapachu snów
Lachlan M D Synowie boga 01 Synowie boga (2)
Robbins Harold Handlarze snów 01 Handlarze snow
§ Rudnicka Olga (01) Zacisze 13 Zacisze 13
Reynard Sylvain Piekło Gabriela 01 Piekło Gabriela
Kalifornijska noc 01 Kalifornijska noc Adler Elizabeth
Alexandra Bracken Mroczne umysły 01 Mroczne umysły
Niemirski Arkadiusz Pan Samochodzik i ... Krzyż lotaryński
Cameron Julia Duch Mozarta