Page 13 of Twisted Legacy

“We assume nobody’s here but us, but you still treat things like there might be an intruder. Got it?”

“Got it.”

I walk inside first, LJ close on my heels. Thea’s thrashing around in the bed, in the middle of another one of her dreams.

“Do you think the doctors are wrong? That maybe we should try to wake her.”

“No. Something tells me that would be a bad idea, but she needs something to make her feel safe.”

“I can hold her hand like I did in the hospital.”

“We need something that’ll work when you’re sleeping, too.”

“A knife.”

I arch a brow at her. “You wanna cut me for saying you can’t hold her hand all night? She really is rubbing off on you.”

“No. I mean, what if we give her a knife? Thea always has one with her, but when I asked, Moira and Scott said Clint wasn’t in any of her things. Maybe she’ll feel safer if she has a knife.”

“Okay. Go grab one.”

She runs downstairs to the kitchen and comes back with one of the biggest ones in the butcher’s block. I have to stop her again from approaching Thea. “I’ll take it over, just in case she reacts in her sleep.”

“Okay, put it under her pillow.”

I walk towards the bed, holding the knife handle out, slowly slipping it under her pillow, then place her hand firmly on top of it. “Is this what you need, sweetness?” I feel her hand close around the handle. Slowly her breathing calms, the monitors quieting. I move back to the door. “Good call, Breland.” I put my hand on her shoulder and steer her into the hall. “Now go get some sleep.”

“But Thea might need me.”

I shove her forward. “I’ll sit with her. If she needs you, I’ll come get you.”

I collapse onto the chair in the corner of the room, tilting my head back, trying to work through everything I still need to do. Thea’s restless, and cries out in her sleep again. This time it’s not as loud as before. I think her grip on the knife helps. But I won’t be any good to her if I’m dead on my feet. I walk over to the bed and kneel down beside it, pushing her damp hair off her forehead. “I don’t know what’s happening in that head of yours, LaReaux. I’m guessing a lot of bad shit. But I don’t want you worrying about any of that right now.”

I slip under the covers, leaving some space between us, and toy with a loc of her hair. “I need you resting and healing. Now settle down.”

She whimpers, the sound cracking through the wall of my heart, making me relive the night I found her. Shuffling closer, I repeat the words I told her when I pulled her from the burning coffin. “You’re safe now, sweetness. I’ve got you.”

Chapter9

Thea

There’s a beeping noise, and it’s driving me nuts. There’s also a thumping noise and a whirring sound. All of them are happening at once, and I have no idea why they’re in my bedroom. I’m fighting to open my eyes, so I can turn them off. It’s harder than it should be. The moment I crack them open, the lights send a sharp pain shooting through my eyeballs and into my head.

A hand rubs up and down my back, and somebody’s saying something to me. I focus on the voice instead of the other noises. “It’s okay, sweetness. Take your time. I’ve got you.”

My hand closes around a smooth surface. The familiar chill of metal rests against my palm. I’ve got a knife. I can protect myself. The repetitive motion of the hand and the soothing voice lulls me back to sleep.

I’m hot. That’s the first thing I notice before I’m pulled completely out of my dream. The second thing I notice is that I’m not alone. My left hand curls around the hilt of a knife. My eyes pop open as I yank the knife from under the pillow. The movement jostles my shoulder, sending pain through every nerve ending in my body. Even my teeth hurt.

“Don’t stab me LaReaux, you might pull out your stitches.”

My right arm is in a sling, and there are wires coming out of my left one. It takes a considerable amount of effort to turn around, but I ignore the pain enough to do it. When I do, I find Deacon Wolfe lying on his back, his arm thrown over his eyes.

“Why are you in my bed?”

“Because on your journey back to the land of the living, you’ve been making pit stops in hell -screaming loud enough to wake the whole goddamn neighborhood- and cutting through the linen. It wasn’t until I got into bed with you that you settled down enough for LJ to sleep.”

At the mention of her name, I look past his shoulder. The paint on the walls isn’t the paint in my dorm room. “Where are we?”

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