Page 11 of The Inquirer

She wailed the last word, and…

I came with a guttural sound, my hand tightening as my body seized, the subtle pain boosting the pleasure coursing through me. I leaned forward, resting my forehead on the shower wall as I waited to come down.

Maybe I could finally get some sleep now.

Six

Nyx

I. Wanted. To. Die.

Not really, but it definitely felt like death would be a good idea right about now.

It wasn’t the worst hangover I’d ever had, but it wasn’t a walk in the park either. My stomach rolled and churned like I’d eaten something rotten. My head pounded, and my mouth felt like someone had shit cotton balls in it.

My tact was also not working well at the moment.

Someone knocked on the door, and I groaned. Considering they’d just tapped on it, I was guessing Isaac or Bradyn since they both knew that I’d been drinking last night.

Shit.

I needed to do serious damage control with Isaac – and the rest of the Huxleys if he’d told his parents about what’d happened.

“Nyx, wake up. It’s ten-thirty in the morning.”

Bradyn.

“Just a minute.” I winced but managed to get out of bed and make it to the bathroom.

I must’ve showered last night because I didn’t stink, which was a good thing, but one look in the mirror said I hadn’t bothered to do anything with my hair after I’d gotten out. Not even brush it.

I looked like something out of a Tim Burton movie.

I managed to work out most of the tangles and get my hair into a braid that looked more or less neat.

I’d also forgotten to put on clothes after getting out of the shower last night, so I fixed that too. My t-shirt didn’t match the shorts I grabbed, but I wasn’t really worried about that.

“What do you want?” I snapped as I opened the door.

Bradyn held up a thermos and a basket. For a moment, I thought he was going to take me on a picnic again, and my stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with how much I’d had to drink last night.

“Hangover helper.” His expression was flat. “We need to talk.”

Talk. Right.

I walked back into the cabin and let him take care of the door behind me. He set things down on the table while I got a bottle of water and some aspirin. He might have something that would help too, but I could handle a hangover myself.

“That’ll go perfect with this.” He pushed the thermos toward me and motioned to the basket.

I took a long swallow of whatever was in the thermos, grimacing at the taste. It wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever had to drink, but it wouldn’t be winning any awards for taste either. Still, I took another drink. Kaimi’s hangover cures had always tasted like sweaty feet, but they’d worked.

“I’ll give you a few minutes, and then we should talk before the Huxleys get home from church. It’ll make things easier.”

“Easier?” I didn’t like what he was implying, and if he told me to calm down, things would get ugly.

“I refuse to let you hurt them,” he said, crossing his arms. “They don’t need to know that you’ve been using them to get to me.”

“Get to you?” I considered throwing whatever was in the thermos at him, but it was working on my headache already. “Why the hell would I want to get to you?”

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