Page 31 of Offside Angel

Mira is laying across her bed. Her arms are spread and her head is tipped over the end… revealing a deep gash across her throat from ear to ear.

No. No, no, no!

I pull her from the bed and cradle her in my lap. I try to hold her together, but her body is cold. The blood around me is congealing, turning rancid with every passing second.

Her flushed cheeks turn pale and then purple. Her skin shrivels and decays before my eyes, and all I can do is hold her and beg for it to stop.

No, no, no. Please no. Mira…

Warm hands hold my face, shaking me gently.

When I open my eyes, Mira is above me.

Mira—whole and perfect and breathing.

“Zane? Are you okay?” She runs her thumbs over my face. “I think you were having a nightmare.”

Thank fuck it was just a dream.

But the weight of it is still on my chest. My heart is hammering and my palms are clammy like they’re still covered in blood. In Mira’s blood.

I curl a hand around her neck and pull her mouth to mine. She gasps in surprise, but quickly falls into the kiss. Our tongues tangle together and I savor every whisper of her breath across my face.

Alive. She’s alive.

I flip us over, pinning Mira to the mattress beneath me. When I close my eyes, I see her as she was in my nightmare: pale and lifeless.

Then Mira drags her hand down my chest. I open them and she’s looking up at me with a mix of desire and confusion. “Zane?”

Alive.

I’ve never needed to be inside of her more than at this moment. I want to feel exactly how alive she is. I want to feel her body responding to me. I want to feel her heart pounding and her heavy breathing on my neck. I want to taste every inch of her warm skin and claim it all as mine.

No one can hurt what is mine.

She fell asleep in my t-shirt, and I shove it up around her waist. She doesn’t ask questions; she just lifts her hips so I can peel her panties down. I run a hand over her and she’s already wet for me.

I kiss my way up her thigh, but Mira grabs my arm and tugs me over her. I arch a brow in question and she gives a quick little nod.

It’s all we need to say before I press myself to her opening and slide into her warmth.

“Fuck,” I groan, dropping my forehead to her shoulder.

Mira shudders and hooks her arms around my back. Her nails scrape over my shoulder blades. “I’m here, Zane. I’m right here.”

Every night for days, I’ve woken up in a cold sweat. I’ll check the bed and see Mira sleeping beside me, but I can’t get back to sleep. I can’t lie in the dark and do nothing.

So, I stand up; I pace the room; I check the security cameras.

I’ve gone through more late night cups of coffee this last week than is healthy or helpful, but how the fuck am I supposed to relax when someone wants to hurt this person I care about? How am I supposed to sit back and wait for some shadowy monster to show up and steal the one person that quiets all of the noise?

“Hey,” Mira whispers. “Stay here with me.”

I drive into her. “I’m here.”

She shakes her head and taps my temple. “Stay with me.”

I hold her gaze as I pump all of the panic and fear and anxiety into her. I watch her pupils dilate, watch as she drops her head back to the pillow and her lips part in a sigh.

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