Running Scared
Page 13

 Shannon K. Butcher

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:

Satisfied, Zach cooperated with her again and they headed for the truck.
“That’s it,” she panted under his weight, grateful she was no pansy. “We’re almost there.”
“Not going to last much longer,” he told her. “Poison.”
“The hell you’re not. Just tell me what to do.”
They made it to the truck and she propped him up against it while she fumbled to open the passenger door. She got it open; he went in headfirst, collapsing on the seat, but it was good enough.
Lexi tossed the sword on the floorboards at his feet, shut the door and ran around the truck. She was going to be driving on the rims, but that was just too bad. No way was she sticking around long enough to fix the tires and see what else showed up.
“Duct tape,” whispered Zach.
She had no idea why he wanted it, but she didn’t stop to ask stupid questions. “Where is it?”
“Box. Under the seat.”
She found it and was already pulling up the end. “What do I do with it?”
“Tape my wound shut. Throw the shirt out as a diversion. The blood.”
Right. They could smell it.
Lexi went to her knees on the seat and pulled hard on Zach’s T-shirt. He hissed in pain, making her stomach turn, but she didn’t slow down or try to be gentler. Now wasn’t the time for gentle. Or slow.
The shirt came off, soaked with blood and sweat. She used it to wipe away the trickle of blood leaking out of the puckered wound. She couldn’t see if the barb had gone through or not, but she needed to stop the bleeding, so she used a strip of tape to bandage him up, covering both the front and back of his shoulder. It was going to hurt like hell coming off, but they’d deal with that later. Assuming they lived long enough.
“Throw the shirt out the window. If they don’t fall for it, throw me out.”
Lexi squelched the surge of panic rising inside her. “Not going to happen.”
He reached for the door handle, but Lexi hit the power lock button and it didn’t open for him. He tried to operate the switch on his side, but his fingers were shaking so hard, he couldn’t seem to make them work. He slumped back on the seat and his arm fell limp at his side.
Lexi put the truck in gear and headed for the road. Zach’s shirt was in easy reach, ready for her to throw out, but she wasn’t going to do it this close to the restaurant. She didn’t want to draw more monsters here where all the nice, defenseless people were.
Both front tires were flat and she had trouble steering, but she managed to get them three miles down the road. The shirt went out the window and she kept on going.
Zach was making low, pained noises, but he hadn’t said a word to her in several minutes. He was lying limply on the seat, sliding around whenever she took a turn. She reached over and pressed her hand against his forehead.
He was burning up.
A sick, helpless fear rose up inside her. This was just like when Mom had died. She’d found her too late. There was nothing she could do. Lexi had been a teenager, lost, alone and afraid.
She couldn’t go through that again. This time, she had to do something to stop it.
Keeping one eye on the road, she felt over Zach’s hot skin until she found his waistband and the cell phone clipped to it. She knew Helen’s number by heart. She dialed it as she checked the gas gauge. Only a quarter of a tank left and they weren’t making good time. The engine was screaming, but the missing tires were really slowing them down, making progress difficult, even with power steering.
It took Helen several rings to pick up. “Hello.” She sounded winded and her voice was faint with fatigue.
“Helen. Zach’s in trouble. He’s been poisoned.”
“Oh no.”
“What do I do?”
There was a scratching sound on the line.
A man’s voice came over the phone, strong and confident. Drake. “Lexi, are you safe?”
The question startled her. She hadn’t expected to be talking to Drake, nor would she have thought that her safety would be the first thing on his mind.
“Yeah, but Zach’s not.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Zach let out a deep moan and Lexi gripped the wheel harder. “It was some kind of porcupine thing. A spike went through Zach’s shoulder.”
“Only one?” asked Drake.
“I think so.”
“Is he conscious?”
Lexi swallowed hard to ease the tightness in her throat. “Not really. He’s sweating and shaking.”
“Don’t panic, okay? We’re going to fix him up, but I need you to stop his bleeding.”
“Already did. He had me duct tape over his wound.”
“That’ll work,” said Drake. “Where are you?”
“Kansas. In his truck.”
“What town?”
“I don’t know. He took me to a steakhouse out in the middle of nowhere.” She couldn’t remember the name and started to panic all over again.
Drake must have sensed it in her voice. “It’s okay, Lexi. I know the place, but you can’t stay put. You have to keep moving.”
“I am, but the front two wheels of his truck are out, and we’re nearly out of gas.”
She heard him utter a vile curse, but it was muffled, like he’d covered the mouthpiece, not wanting her to hear. “It’ll be fine. Someone will be nearby who can help. Just stay off the main roads so you don’t get pulled over by police, okay?”
“Yeah. I can do that.” She hoped. “Can you figure out where the closest hospital is?”
“Human doctors can’t help him, but give me two minutes and I’ll find someone who can.”
Before she could answer, Helen’s voice came back on the line, full of mock cheerfulness. “Hey, Lexi. Drake went to find you help, but how about we catch up on old times while he’s working on it.”
It was hard keeping the phone to her ear while steering the truck, but Lexi needed the lifeline of her friend’s voice to keep her steady. Too much was happening too fast. “How about you start by telling me why you sound so tired when I call. Don’t they let you sleep?”
“I’m helping them rebuild a wall. It’s exhausting, but necessary.”
“I thought there were lots of burly men there. Let them do the heavy lifting.”
“I’m not physically building it. I’m shoving a bunch of magic into it to make it stronger. Pretty cool, huh?”
Lexi wasn’t sure cool was the word she’d use, but she didn’t want to get into an argument over her opinion about it right now. “If you say so. Did you pack up your stuff like I asked?”
“No. Lexi, I—”
“If you can’t talk, I understand. Just say something mundane and I’ll get it.”
“It’s not that. I’m free to say whatever I like. I just think you might have gotten some wrong ideas about these people somewhere along the line.”
“They’re making you say that, aren’t they?”
“No.” Helen let out a weary sigh. “Listen, it will be easier to talk in person once you’re here.”
“Assuming I make it that far.”
“You will,” said Helen. “I see the leader of the Sentinels across the yard. He’s already on his phone, likely calling in men from all around you to come help. They won’t let you down.”
The idea of a bunch of men like Zach closing in on her was more than a little daunting. She could barely keep her head about her with one big, sexy Sentinel. More than one was going to be too much to handle. “Don’t. I don’t want a bunch of people hunting me.”
“They’re not hunting you, Lexi. They’re going to help.”
Lexi remained unconvinced. At least if she knew help was on the way, she could leave Zach somewhere where his people would save him. She didn’t have to stick around.
“Oh, hold on a sec,” said Helen. “Drake’s back.”
He came back on the line, his deep voice filling her ear with calm confidence. “Ronan is going to meet you at a Gerai house near where you are. He’s like a doctor. He can help Zach, okay?”
Lexi wasn’t sure if she could trust anything Drake said, and she was even less sure she wanted this Ronan person near her. The good news was that if it was only one man, Lexi would have no trouble leaving while he was busy helping Zach. She’d find a way to swipe the man’s keys and head to Dabyr by herself.
Lexi straightened her spine, and hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake. “Just tell me where to go.”
Chapter 9
Grace barely managed to get the heavy tray through the door of the suite without spilling it. There was enough food here to feed at least three Theronai, but she only cared about getting one of them to eat.
Torr.
He’d stopped eating more than a week ago and no amount of logic or begging had worked to change his mind. She was done playing nice. There was no way she was going to watch him slowly starve just because he wanted to die.
Grace wasn’t ready for that yet, and probably never would be.
Joseph Rayd, the leader of the Sentinels, was in there with him when she entered, speaking in low tones. Neither of the men noticed her entrance.
“No,” said Joseph, his voice hard and unyielding. “It’s too soon.”
“It’s my life. My choice. If I still had working legs, you’d respect my wishes.” Torr’s angry plea made Grace’s stomach clench hard.
“I’m not sending you to the Slayers to be murdered. You still have enough leaves left to last you two or three years.”
“Two or three useless years. I can’t fight. I’m draining away precious resources we don’t have to spare. Do you have any idea how much blood the Sanguinar have wasted on me?”
“It’s not a waste, damn it. They’ll find a cure to this thing. Just give it more time.”
Torr was silent for a long moment. “I hurt too much, Joseph. You’d think that because I’m paralyzed that it wouldn’t hurt anymore, but the pressure keeps building. I can’t even exert myself enough to relieve it.”
“What about meditation?” asked Joseph.
“I’ve tried. It no longer helps.”
Grace heard the pain choking him from across the room and had to bite her lip to keep from rushing to him and offering whatever meager comfort she could.
“I’ll send Tynan to you,” said Joseph. “He can inject you with his blood and help ease the pain, if only for a while.”
Torr shook his head slightly. “No. I can’t go that way. I’m going to die sober so everyone knows I was in my right mind.”
“You’re not going to die at all. I order you to eat until we find a cure.”
Torr pushed out a scathing laugh. “You’re really reaching, man. Just let it go. I have.”
Joseph placed a hand on Torr’s shoulder, even though Torr couldn’t feel it. “I won’t give up on you. You need to know that.”
Grace decided that it was time to make her presence known before she overheard something she shouldn’t. “I’m not giving up on him either.”