Page 39 of Into the Night

The sharp jerk of his head tells me that no, nobody knows where I am. Which makes my position here precarious.

Narrowing my eyes, I try to get a good look at him, but my face is swollen, my vision is blurry, and he’s careful to stick to the shadows.

“Please tell me where I am.”

More blinking. More stubborn stares.

Cursing, I look to the ceiling, praying for patience. “What do you want from me? Are you trying to kill me by bringing me here?”

When he finally moves, I expect the beast to come closer, maybe nuzzle before he shifts back, but instead, he just looks furious. He turns abruptly to retrieve a small packet from the table and holds it gently between his teeth. He comes closer and drops the pain medication in my lap before retreating to his bed and laying down, his unhappy gaze burning into me.

What did I do wrong? Other than suggesting it’s not the best idea to carry a badly injured woman off into the night, away from the medical attention she desperately needs, and her family, who must be freaking out.

“You need to bring me back.”

Taking a stern tone doesn’t work either. In fact, it only makes things worse. Without lifting his head from where it rests on his massive paws, the beast lifts one side of his mouth in a dangerous growl.

When my eyes drift to the window where the wind whistles through the branches outside, those amber glowing eyes narrow at me, daring me to try and leave.

Recognising that his animal is firmly in the driving seat, I resign myself to staying here, tonight at least.

I lie back and try not to freak out, refusing to take the pills he’s given me. I need medical attention. It’s not safe for me to be out here, so far from help. If my beast is still too weak to shift, she could be too weak to heal me. And if I don’t heal, I can’t fight, and I can’t escape.

The light bounces off the trail of blood I’ve left on the floor. Along with the stitches, most of which I’ve burst now by moving, it’s a harsh reminder of how badly I’ve been hurt. This is serious. If I pick up an infection in my weakened state, I could die out here before anyone can even come and rescue me.

Deciding that I’ll be able to think better after some rest, I snuggle deeper into the warm blankets, keeping the beast in my sights. After one last defiant glare at my kidnapper, I stop fighting my fluttering eyelids and allow them to close.

The beast huffs, the sound mocking. He knows I have no choice, no way of escaping, for now, at least.

Inside I curse, because as annoying as he is, he’s right. I’m not going anywhere.

“You can’t keep me here forever,” I whisper. “My cousins will come for me, and if you hurt me, they’ll hunt you like the dog that you are.”

23

GRIFFIN

Asoft knock at the door wakes me.

“Kali?” I jump from the bed, heart pounding. Instantly, my brain is hopeful that she’s here somehow, having just left a dream where she was sleeping peacefully beside me.

As the depressing reality sinks in that I’m alone in Maisy’s guesthouse, without Kali and with no idea where she is or if she’s even still alive, I shake my arms out and suck in a deep breath. I can’t let those thoughts get to me, or I’ll fall apart. Then I’m no good to her.

With a calming breath, I cross to the door. I can tell it’s Maisy from the smell of baking floating with her. The scent of sugar and vanilla is so embedded in her apron, it’ll never come out.

Pulling open the door, I smile, welcoming a distraction right about now. Maisy helped Kali. She probably saved her life, and I’ll be forever in her debt.

“Sorry for disturbing you. I know you were out looking for Kali till all hours, and you probably need to sleep, but you have a visitor,” she says apologetically. “It’s Ben.”

My tentative smile falters. I’ve avoided him on purpose. I don’t know what, if anything, Kali told them about me. Or Jack, for that matter. He saw us having an argument the night she was injured. Who knows what Ben would make of that.

Nodding, I disappear back inside and pull on some clothes. Ducking my head down to sniff my armpits, I frown. I need a shower, but it’ll have to wait.

“Hope I didn’t wake you up,” Ben says, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, hand outstretched in greeting. The sun has barely peeked its head above the horizon. He knows well that he’s woken me, but that’s okay. I’m amazed I slept at all.

“No. I was just about to have a wash.” Right as I say the words, I spot a smear of dirt on the back of my hand, and I focus on picking it off while we stand there awkwardly for a minute.

“Do you have news about Kali?” I ask, bracing myself for bad news.

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