Page 13 of To Steal the Sun

Charlotte finally caught up to what must have been apparent to Easton from the beginning.

“The water and the material…that was to throw off our scent trail? So it wouldn’t lead them to this house?”

Natalie nodded. “When I first spotted you in the air, I sent word to both the count and my family. My family knew there was a chance I might have to return at night, so they had someone listening out. Thankfully, that fool guard made more than enough noise roaring away at us. So they got the material laid out before we reached the trough.” She shook her head. “It wouldn’t have been such a close thing if you two had moved a bit faster, though.”

“Charlotte is injured,” Easton said through his teeth. “And maybe we would have been more prepared if you’d considered warning us.”

Natalie looked between the two of them doubtfully before shrugging. “Or maybe one or both of you would have refused to set foot out of the basement if you’d known you were about to be chased through the city by a patrol of bears. I don’t know you that well, so how could I say?”

“You—” Easton stepped toward her, but the arrival of several people distracted him from whatever scolding he was intending.

“Someone’s injured?” A woman bustled forward, her focus on Charlotte. “Oh, you are too! You poor dear!”

The man moved to Natalie instead, glowering at Easton. Easton met his gaze coolly, not backing down.

“I got the material laid out for you,” the man said. “So how did someone end up injured? They’re not about to break down our door, are they?”

“I told you, Da,” a bored voice said from further along the corridor. “We got it pulled in well before any of the patrols worked out where they were. They’re always confounded by those alleys.” He had the superior tone of late adolescence, a youth hovering on the edge of manhood.

When he stepped forward into the light, Charlotte could place him instantly. There was no doubting he was Natalie’s older brother given the similarity in their coloring and features.

The young man gave his sister a lazy nod, and she narrowed her eyes in response. Apparently his assistance in retrieving the material hadn’t won him any points in her eyes. Charlotte could relate to the prickly sibling dynamic.

“Nice to see you helping—for once,” Natalie said.

The youth’s eyes narrowed. “What was the other option? Let you bring the bears straight to our door? I don’t have a death wish, you know.”

Natalie’s voice turned mockingly sweet. “I know it’s just that you love your family soooo much. Admit it! You’ve been worrying about me all night.”

“Ew! Get off me!” The youth tried to fend her off as she surged forward and pulled him into a hug.

Charlotte’s heart dropped. The prickly antagonism between Natalie and her brother was merely one layer of their relationship. But Charlotte’s sister’s taunts hadn’t been a façade for a deeper well of affection.

She swayed, lightheaded. It was a struggle to fight against the pain and not make any embarrassing sounds of distress.

The woman—who must be Natalie’s mother—tutted and pressed more tightly on the towel, which only made Charlotte sway again.

“How did you end up injured?” she asked, the question sounding much softer and more sympathetic on her lips than it had on her husband’s.

But the reminder caused Natalie’s father to throw another suspicious look at both Charlotte and Easton. Another male voice sounded from the end of the corridor.

“Dane, Patti, why don’t you bring them in? There’ll be time enough to hear how she was injured once they’re settled.”

Easton stiffened at the sound of the voice. For one lingering second, he continued to match stares with Natalie’s father, and then he slowly turned to face the newcomer. “She was injured,” he said, “protecting me.”

A woman from further inside the house gave a muffled scream just as Natalie’s mother removed the towel from Charlotte’s arm. Charlotte looked down at the red that spurted from her gashed arm, felt a surge of pain, and blackness rushed over her, claiming all her senses.

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte came around slowly, grogginess making everything fuzzy for several seconds. Logically, she knew she couldn’t have passed out for more than a minute or two, but thankfully someone—or multiple someones—had used that time to move her the rest of the way into the house and lay her down on a sofa.

Natalie’s mother—had someone called her Patti?—had even produced some bandages and was in the process of binding the wound properly. She tutted to herself quietly as she secured the final knot.

Charlotte sucked in a breath, but the pain quickly receded to a more manageable throbbing ache now she wasn’t being jostled around.

“Does it need stitches?” she managed in a quavering voice.

“You woke up.” Natalie stated the fact without emotion, wandering over to gaze down at Charlotte. “For a second, I thought you’d died.”

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