Page 39 of Crimson Storm

My incarceration had also taught me to sleep in uncomfortable circumstances. Our cots at the Safety Center had been narrow and hard with a thin blanket and no pillow.

When I awoke sometime later, I blinked a few times and looked around in confusion.

Where am I?

The Safety Center was so much warmer than usual.

Oh, it wasn’t the Safety Center. I was in the truck. We were on our way to the Bastion.

Butterflies swam in my belly at the mere thought of the place. Ofhim. I clutched my ever-present pendant, feeling the familiar contours of the tiny dagger and the smooth roundness of the orb in its hilt.

What would Reece do when we arrived? What would he say? Would Imogen decide to get theatrical and send him personally to carry out the death sentence she’d threatened me with if I ever returned?

Perhaps she already knew I was on my way home. I’d been told that as my maker she could always sense my location.

That knowledge had given me many moments of fear over the past months—anytime I was alone at home or walking somewhere in the city.

She could have sent Kannon or any of the other Bloodbound after me to grab me off the street and forcibly return me to the Crimson Court. But she never had.

And contrary to Heather and Kelly’s hopes, she hadn’t sent anyone to rescue us when we’d been arrested and held in the Safety Center.

As far as I could tell, my “mother” had washed her beautiful, terrifying hands of me. If we’d had any choice whatsoever, we wouldn’t be putting ourselves at the mercy of them again.

Speaking of hands, I hoped Shane’s were beginning to heal and he’d rested more comfortably without the cuffs on this time. In the dim light, I couldn’t separate his shadowed form from that of my friends.

“Heather,” I whispered to keep from waking him and Kelly.

No answer. Had she dozed off too?

“Heather,” I said more loudly, and this time a drowsy, “Hmmm?” sound came in response.

“Did you fall asleep?”

“No,” she said, sounding confused. “Oh, wait. I think so. I’m sorry. Everything was so quiet and cozy back here.”

“It’s okay. I wonder what time it is?”

Moving carefully so as not to jostle our still-sleeping companions, I parted the curtain slightly to peek through the windshield and check the position of the sun. A pinkish-purple glow lit the sky.

“It’s almost sunset. We should wake them and get ready to go.”

I could hear Heather move, slowly at first and then a rapid, panicky sounding motion. She sat straight up.

“Where’s Shane?”

20

Slow Night

“What do you mean?” I demanded, trying hard to keep my pulse steady.

“He’s not here,” Heather said. “He’s gone.”

“That’s impossible. We would have heard him get out. The sun would have burned us when he opened the door.”

“Not if he hung a blanket over the doorway,” she said, ripping down a blanket that had been hung over one of the doors.

So much for the steady pulse. Mine skyrocketed, and a whirring noise filled my ears. I couldn’t believe it.

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