The Savage Grace: A Dark Divine Novel

“Gracie.” He held a shaking arm out toward me.

I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me closer to him. He cupped my chin with both of his hands, and then our lips were together, melting in a fierce kiss—wet with rain and tears. He kissed me like he’d feared that he’d never be able to kiss me again.

I wrapped my arms around his naked chest, shuddering against his hot skin. Never wanting to let go.

But then he cried out in pain and pulled away. I noticed a bright red, blistering welt against the taut muscles of his left shoulder—where the silver bullet had pierced his flesh. He shuddered, his body convulsing, and he cried so sharply, I knew he suffered from a pain much greater than just that of the bullet wound. As if his insides were under threat of being torn apart. More shouts sounded in the background. Coming closer. Was someone on our trail? I reached out to steady Daniel’s shaking body, but he slipped through my grasp and collapsed to the ground.

It took every ounce of my will not to howl a scream as I stared down at Daniel, lying in the mud so still, as if he were dead.





Chapter Eighteen


FEVER


A FEW MINUTES PASSED

He was hot. So very, very hot. Even in the cool rain, the heat radiating off his skin against my body made me sweat as I propelled him toward home. It felt like he was burning up in a fever of nuclear proportions. His shallow breathing scared me, and his body quaked with a seizurelike shudder every few minutes. I didn’t know what was wrong with him, but I knew I had to get him to safety. He’d regained himself only enough to stand. With his arms draped around my shoulders, leaning his weight into my side, I was able to walk, drag, and carry him—depending on his ability to put one foot in front of the other—through the rest of the forest. I wanted to pass out with exhaustion by the time I reached the back fence of our yard. I don’t know how I mustered up any more supernatural strength to hoist him over it.

I stashed the two rifles under my back porch—I’d been too afraid to leave them in the forest for those hunters to find—then carried Daniel into the house. His body was slick with mud and still just as burning hot. He moaned softly and slid out of my grasp onto the linoleum kitchen floor.

How could he withstand a fever this high?

Suddenly, I wished my mother, the nurse, was here. Not that she’d be too keen about my naked boyfriend lying on her kitchen floor—but she’d know better than I did what to do for someone so sick. I had to bring down his temperature as quickly as possible, but I doubted a couple of ibuprofen were going to help.

I grunted from exertion as I picked him up again and carried him to the upstairs bathroom. I sat him in the tub and draped a hand towel over his … um, middle … and then turned on the faucet. I let a rush of cold water pour down on his legs. I tested the temperature. Colder than the rain outside when it left the faucet, but it warmed up quickly as it came into contact with his hot skin. I ran downstairs and grabbed the entire bucket of ice from the freezer’s ice maker and brought it back upstairs.

“Don’t hate me for this,” I said to Daniel as I dumped the ice on top of him. He groaned and his eyes half opened for a moment—at least he was still conscious. Steam curled up in wisps from his skin.

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