Page 23 of Hunt Me

I frown, confused.

Before I can text back, a knock sounds at my bedroom door.

“Tor, I know you’re in there,” Kendall calls.

The sound of her voice sends my stress and fear up another notch. Up until that moment with Uziah, I’d almost believed whatever happened to me was a fluke or could be reversed, but drinking that poison proved otherwise. Or, more accurately, the fact that nothing happened to me after drinking it spoke volumes.

Actually, not nothing. The black veins spidering across my stomach and arms are gone now. Almost as if drinking that poison healed me.

Whatever’s going on, it’s clear I’m tainted by some kind of dark magic from the death dragon himself. A creature more powerful and brutal than anything I’ve ever encountered if rumors are true. Until I know more, I’m not about to risk another accidental touch—especially with Kendall.

“Tor, you have to eat something,” she tries again.

“Leave it outside,” I call.

“Or you could come sit at the table like a normal person,” she says.

Except that I’m not normal.

“I’ll stay on the other side of the room,” she adds hopefully.

“Too risky.”

“You aren’t going to hurt me,” she argues. “I trust you.”

That may be, but I don’t trust myself.

“Fine. I’ll leave your plate here,” she says when I don’t respond.

I count to fifty before sliding off my bed and venturing to the door. I stop long enough to pull on gloves that cover my hands and wrists followed by a scarf that covers nearly all of my face and hair. Listening, I make sure there’s no sound from the other side before unlocking the door and pulling it open.

Kendall is nowhere in sight, but the plate is set a lot farther out than I expected. I’m forced to take three steps to reach out. The moment I bend down, Kendall pops out from around the corner and slides in behind me, pulling my bedroom door shut.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demand.

“Proving my point,” she says, blocking my retreat to isolation.

“Kendall,” I warn, taking a step back. I nearly trip over the plate but manage to right myself, sidestepping it and her. “This isn’t funny. Or safe. Move out of the way.”

“No.” She gives me a hard look. “I’m not letting you spend the rest of your life in your room.”

“Kendall,” I say again, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m not safe. I could kill you.”

“You won’t.”

“You can’t be sure?—”

“I can because I’ve seen it.”

That stops me. “What?”

“I’ve seen how I go, and it’s not by your hand.”

I gape at her. “You’ve seen your own death?”

“Yes.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal.

Kendall’s always had visions of the future, but they’ve grown more frequent as she’s gotten older. And darker. Especially since she began training under Natalia. This is her first vision of death, but I can’t help shuddering because I have a feeling it won’t be the last.

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