Page 30 of The Girl Who Should Be Dead

Ambra didn’t understand why she laughed then, still doesn’t, but still, it’s soft and the color is cheery.

The backpacks are once more on the bed, and there’s snacks and a change of clothing obviously in them, and she pokes through the one closer to her, not so much curious as her mind spinning around for distractions.

“I don’t want to leave without at least one of these,” Gurlien says, almost strict, and she raises an eyebrow at him. “If I end up somewhere separated, I want to be able to at least survive until I get help.”

Ambra scoffs, but it makes sense. Even just two nights before was evidence that she is still horridly controllable.

“Hopefully, Nalissa will get pictures,” she says, the image of Johnsin’s corpse floating in her bubble flashing through her mind. “Hopefully she’ll hold off.”

Gurlien blanches before he covers it up, and she’s immediately reminded of all the half secrets that Johnsin spoke about, of all of the mysteries surrounding Gurlien.

And yet, he’s just standing in the doorway, completely harmless, wearing a T-shirt and the rough pants. All his magic seared out of him, not even able to see the leash still firmly tied around his wrist.

And Johnsin knew him, knew enough of his history to make snide comments, and she still didn’t. And Axel hinted.

“I need additional supplies,” he says, smooth, and of course he produces a list from his pocket.

She grabs it, almost ripping the paper, even though her neck aches at the fast movement.

It’s all clothing, some toiletries, and more food. Nothing actually interesting.

Turning it over in her hands, she raises an eyebrow at him.

“I’d go back to the cabin, but that must be crawling withCollege spies,” he says, folding his arms over his chest, then unfolding them, wincing at the bandage.

“And the demon circle,” she points out. “I can’t get you in there.”

“And the demon circle.” For a long moment, he stares at her from behind his glasses, as if weighing some information. “Chloe, Delina, and Maison got to a safe place.”

“Good?” Ambra ventures, and he nods. “If you want to keep them safe, I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t know where that is.”

“I agree,” he replies curtly, but still, he’s almost sad. “They got my cat with them.”

Ambra knew of pets, of course. Some demons kept them, friendly animals in their surroundings for companionship, though Ambra had never felt that particular sort of bond, and both Nalissa and Boltiex had dogs.

Gurlien doesn’t seem like the type.

“I can get you another cat?” she offers, only half certain it’s the correct thing to say, and he just shakes his head. “Or reunite you with this one once Boltiex and Nalissa are dead.”

“You’re really fumbling in the dark with all of this, aren’t you?” he mutters, then pushes his hair away from his forehead, where it flops again immediately. “Can you teleport now?

In terms of power, of course she can, she always can, but the shaky lack of sensation in her chest doesn’t breed any sort of confidence that she could do much more.

And here she wanted to test the leash, test his control. See what this man, this dud completely seared of all of his magic, could actually handle, but the body still feels like it’s about to sway in a heavy wind.

“Do you want to get all of this,” she brandishes the list back at him, “now? Later?”

He narrows his eyes.

“I can’t reunite you with your cat, I can’t get you back to your home or your friends, and I don’t want to let you far away in case Nalissa or Boltiex try.” He’s still examining her with suspicion. “I have to make sure you don’t get so fed up with everything that you leave me to them.”

The moment stills, in the creaky little motorhome, with the dusty windows and the snow outside, as he stares at her, the falsely bored expression slipping from his face.

Leaving something dismayed.

“So, list,” Ambra finishes, lamely, as he looks like he’s reevaluating his entire life that led him up to this place. “I can do that.”

Finally, he recovers. “Do you have money?”

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