There were good people left in this world, but there were plenty of bad. I’d kept to myself, and the reason still raged true—I couldn’t trust them…couldn’t take that chance, not when life was so fragile.
I stared at that old man, clutched my side, and eased out of the building to the street. Danger lingered in every corner and every window. They could shoot me from up there, and leave me for dead. But there was a bigger danger now driving me.
The danger that this was all for nothing, that any second my eyes would sting, and my nose would bleed. And I’d be next.
Fight, Harlow. Survive any way you can.
Those words haunted me as I passed familiar buildings. I lifted my head, sucked in hard breaths, and watched the brown brick of the hospital sway.
My feet were numb, my side was numb. Pain was a constant, driving my feet forward one slow step at a time. I clamped my arm against my jacket and kept going.
We live in the lab…you’ll understand soon enough.
Anger flared for a second, but the heat was fleeting and cruel, leaving me sad and fragile. Kenya knew what she was getting me into, and still desperation drove her.
What was one life when the rest of the city was at stake?
Kenya believed Pestilence didn’t just live amongst us…I lifted my gaze to the corner of the hospital and the path that would lead me to the lab. She believed he lived in the lab.
The heady thud of my boots echoed, my reflection trapped in the glass. Blood soaked through the front of the green surgical shirt. I kept my hand steady and hit the button.
Metal ground under the force until my arms shuddered and my hand slipped. Darkness ate away the edges of my vision as I shoved through. The hallway was all I saw, numbness was all I felt.
My knees trembled as I stumbled for the front door to the lab. Movement rushed from the other side of the glass…wide eyes greeted me. Damon’s face reared. His lips were moving, but I couldn’t catch the sound.
I couldn’t catch anything as the darkness swept in, stealing the light…stealing everything, and I dropped to the floor.
15
A warm wet cloth slid over my hand. My fingers throbbed, slow and steady. The rush of a breath, hard and fast anchored me. I focused on the sound and dragged in a breath through my arid mouth and felt my chest tighten. A cough ripped free, hard, deep, sounding raw, and the burn followed.
“Good, you’re awake.”
Damon’s voice filled the room. Shadows and light closed in. I couldn’t make out the shapes…and still the wet cloth skimmed my knuckles and carried over the backs of my fingers.
“That’s enough now, Angel. She’s amongst the living.”
My heart thundered and the blur closed in as Pitt gave a wine. I licked my lips, swallowed the tiny bit of moisture in my mouth, and whispered. “You gave my dog a name.”
The dark blur moved close, pale skin came into view, blood-shot eyes followed. Eyes brimming with crimson…he was sicker…much sicker. The table shuddered under his grip. “Yes. I did. Pitt was an atrocious attempt—actually, I refuse to call it an attempt, more like a placeholder.”
His voice was filled with venom but his smile…his smile gave him away.
“Placeholder sounds about right. Angel, huh?”
“She seems to like it,” he murmured dropping his gaze to stare at the floor.
A warm tongue greeted my hand once more, and for a second I just lay there, breathing…touching the warmth of a friend.
“Where is she, Harlow. Where is Kenya?”
He shattered the illusion in an instant, drawing me back to that place and those people. He waited, but the words seemed to be too cruel. I turned my head and looked away. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see my failings.
“Who?”
My throat tightened, the lump wedged tight as I forced a hiss. “Lost Boys.”
“Figured. Someone rogue, or was it Miles, that sadistic sonovabitch? I’ll kill him the next time he comes here. I’ll cut his fucking throat so fast he won’t know he’s bleeding all over my goddamn floor.”
The table shuddered with his rage. I wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t be cutting anyone soon, or even healing. Any day now he wouldn’t be doing anything at all.
Blood seeped from underneath his nose to splatter on the stainless steel bed. Damon glanced at the mess and then lifted his hand. “Sorry ’bout that.”
I wanted to trust him. Wanted to find the notebook in my jacket and show him the truth. But his name had been listed along with all the others.
And that meant Kenya had a reason not to trust.
The dog whined, and my vision sharpened. I gripped the bed and pulled myself over to the side to see her standing beside him…as though somehow she was urging me to trust.
Those brown eyes seized me as she lifted her head. She was an angel, sent from whomever to be here in this damn moment. I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes, the damn dog trusted—now it was up to me. “My jacket…in the pocket.”
“What about it?”
“Kenya’s notebook. You need to read it.”
His brows furrowed before he turned and moved to the side. I could hear the rub of leather and the thud of the book. Any minute now, those words would register, and then he’d know the real reason I was here.
The sudden catch of breath filled the room. I wiggled my fingers, desperate to feel the warmth and the strength of someone I loved. And she came, rubbing against my fingertips and nudging the palm of my hand with her nose.
“She thought…she thought it was me?”
My chest ached with those words. “No, I don’t think she did. But she couldn’t rule you out, either. It has to be someone. Someone that had close ties with the Lost Boys, someone who had close ties with the three of you.”
“Jesus…Jesus Christ. Just when you thought you knew someone. Just when you thought you’d shared it all, then they go and write in a goddamn book about you. She could’ve come to me. She could’ve asked. I would’ve told her the truth. I would’ve told her anything she needed to hear. I’m not the one spreading the damn plague.”
I dragged my hand higher and gripped the bed. My other hand went to my stomach and the thick dressing covering half my stomach. “And if she’d gone to you, and you convinced her that it wasn’t you, then what? You’d both suspect Chuck…or Kris. How long do you think it’d take for either of those to wear you down, and meanwhile, whoever is really doing this is going to carry on. Only now he’s smarter, he’s hiding his shit. He’s changing the way he gets this out there.”
Pain snarled as I eased a foot over the side of the bed and followed with the other. It was a different kind of pain, like a savage animal with a belly full of food, too tired to hunt.
“Easy,” Damon warned and came closer. “Took me three damn hours to stitch you together. You don’t want to be lifting, or stretching, or doing anything for a while.”