“Whoops.” Zeke put out both hands to steady us. For a half second, we were face-to-face, so close I could see the rings of silver around his pupils, hear the pulse at his throat. The Hunger stirred, and I clamped down on it, hard.
“Sorry,” he apologized, taking a step back. His clothes and hair were still slightly damp, and he smelled faintly of the river. “I…just wanted to make sure you were all right,” he said and ran his fingers through his bangs, shoving them back. “Are you all right? No broken bones, no hidden concussions? No fish swimming around in your lungs?”
I smiled at him tiredly. “There might be a minnow or two, but I’m sure I’ll cough them up before tomorrow,” I said, and he chuckled. My stomach squirmed weirdly at that laugh, and I eased back toward my tent. “I think I’m done for the night, though. Something about near-death experiences always wears me out.” I faked a yawn, covering my mouth just in case fangs were showing. “See you tomorrow, Zeke.”
He reached for me before I could turn, taking a strand of my wet hair, running it lightly through his fingers. I froze, my stomach in knots, the Hunger stirring curiously at this newest development.
“Allison.” Zeke’s smile sent a rush of warmth through me, and I had to stifle the urge to touch him, skin to skin, just to feel that heat. My gums throbbed, fangs aching to break through, and I forced myself to stay put, to not step forward and lean up toward his neck.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Zeke murmured without a trace of embarrassment or guile. “It’s nice, having someone else we can count on. I hope you’ll stay, so we can see Eden together.”
He gave my hair a final, gentle tug and turned away. I watched him go, Hunger and longing and that strange, squirmy feeling twisting my insides. Crawling into my tent, I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to sleep, to forget Ezekiel Crosse. His touch. His warmth. And how badly I wanted to sink my fangs into his throat and truly make him mine.
Chapter 14
The plains couldn’t go on forever. The next night, a scattering of trees appeared on the horizon, growing thicker and more numerous, until it became a proper forest. Trudging through brush and tangled undergrowth, our progress slowed even more. People began to mutter; the forest was more dangerous than the plains, harder to get through, especially since we weren’t following a road. The shadowy trees hid predators like wolves and bears, and of course, the worst fear of all: rabids.
Not surprisingly, Jeb was deaf to these fears and continued to push doggedly through the woods, pausing only to let the little ones rest and to ration out our nearly exhausted supplies. When we finally stopped to camp a few hours before dawn, Zeke and Darren grabbed their bows to go hunting again, and this time I joined them.
“So, do you know how to shoot one of these things?” Darren asked as I followed him and Zeke into the woods. He seemed fully recovered from his tumble into the river, no worse for wear except for a small cut and a purple-green bruise on his forehead. Zeke had teased him about his hardheadedness, and Darren had responded by saying that scars were sexy to the ladies.
I smiled at him, secretly thinking he was making far too much noise for us to be able to sneak up on anything. Ahead of us, Zeke was much quieter. At least Darren was speaking in whispers, though I winced whenever he stepped on a twig or made the leaves crunch.
“I think I’ve got the general idea,” I murmured back. “Point the sharp end at something and pull the string, right?”
“There’s a bit more to it than that,” Darren said dubiously. “It takes a fair bit of strength to pull the cord effectively, and you have to know how to aim it, too. Are you sure you don’t want me to show you how? I’ll be happy to teach you.”
My annoyance flared. “Tell you what,” I said, holding up my bow. “Let’s make a bet. If you shoot something before I do, I’ll leave the hunting to you and Zeke. If I make a kill first, you let me come hunting with you whenever I want. Deal?”
“Uh.” His eyebrows shot up, appraising. “Sure. You’re on.”
A pebble came sailing through the darkness then, coming from Zeke’s direction. I stepped back, but it bounced off Darren’s chest, and he turned with a hiss, scowling. Zeke frowned back, then put a finger to his lips and pointed at a clump of bushes ahead.
I was instantly alert. Something was moving in the undergrowth about fifty yards away, a large black shape, shuffling low to the ground. Zeke smoothly reached behind him, drew an arrow from the quiver, fit it to the string and raised the bow. As he pulled back the cord, I breathed in slowly, trying to catch the beast’s scent.