Page 136 of The Girl Who Should Be Dead

“What?” Ambra demands, as imperiously as she can while being slumped against the bed.

With a wry smile, he shakes himself out of it. “She always talked about how she was going to go on and continue her research if she ever recovered her notes,” he says. “We did that at the base. She’s preparing to head out soon.”

So the loss will be the ability to see his friend as easily.

“I’ll teleport you to her if you need your friend,” she says seriously, because of course she would. “That’s hardly a problem.”

A small smile. “I don’t think she’ll tell anyone where she’s going.”

“I can track her,” Ambra says. “Probably.” In odd with her words, she coughs, then grimaces.

“What do you need,” he asks, like a vow, and he traces his fingertips on the leash, sending a shiver down her back. “He’s not going to stop, what do you need to fight back?”

It’s a hard question, one she doesn’t fully know how to answer, beyond holding her down and stopping Boltiex from taking her.

“Food, probably,” she replies miserably. “Rest. Energy.”

“The other necromancer was going to compel you to not injure her and then let you take from her, apparently, but pretty much everyone shut that down,” Gurlien says. “I met her, I do not understand her.”

Ambra blinks at him. “That would be foolish,” she says dryly.

Still, she closes her hand around his once more, and there’s silence, just the two of them, and the closest she’s felt to peace. He’s here, he’s safe, she’ll heal, they’ll fight off the College…

A twist of Boltiex and his awareness blooms in her eyes, her breath hitching.

Gurlien recoils, like he could feel it, too.

And all Ambra can do is blink at him, as Boltiex absorbs her vision, absorbs what she can see, absorbs the pain in her chest.

“Gurlien Banks?” he finally asks through her, flickering her eyes down to the leash in his grip. “There’s no way you have the power to do that.”

Gurlien’s lips part, hesitating one moment, before twisting the leash in his hands, and Boltiex vanishes from her mind, leaving Ambra reeling.

“Okay,” Gurlien says, “so he’s going to just do this.”

Wordless, Ambra nods.

In a sharp motion, Gurlien rolls out of the bed, pushing himself to standing, and Ambra immediately misses his contact.

“Stay,” he orders, and there’s no compulsion in it, but she still settles back as he strides over to the kitchen.

“He’s gathering information,” Ambra murmurs, and Gurlien nods. “You stopped him and he’s gathering information.”

“And I,” Gurlien starts, and there’s something dangerous in his voice, “have spent the last five days with some very knowledgeable people about demons, and we are going to get you back up and running.”

She tilts her head to him, as he opens the cupboards he had stored food in, the non-perishable stuff.

“Mel was a dick,” Ambra ventures, and there’s a small smile on his face. “And I still don’t like Axel. Alette was okay.”

Alette followed her instructions in a crisis and held herdown, disparaging comments about Gurlien notwithstanding.

“I met Axel’s girlfriend,” Gurlien starts, making a funny face, “and so much more makes sense.”

He pulls out a box from the cupboard, one she barely remembers him buying, and roots through it.

“You’re going to have a lot to talk about with her when this is all done,” he says casually, as if they’re not in danger. As if Boltiex won’t decide to pull her immediately, to control her and kill Gurlien, backlash be damned.

Giving up on the box, he grabs the backpack because they let him have the backpack before rescuing her, and she gets an irrational surge of gratefulness.

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