Page 19 of Mated Exile

Bastian looks up at me sharply. Leaning forward, I bring the key up to the manacle on his right ankle. He gently grabs my wrist in his broad fingers, and slowly shakes his head.

"No, Delilah." There's genuine pain in his voice, and sadness in his amber eyes. "I'm not going with you."

Nine

Delilah

Istare at him, unable to comprehend those words.

"Of course you'll be coming with me. The key will work on your manacles as well—"

Bastian's hand tightens around my wrist, still gentle, but now quite firm. He shakes his head emphatically. "You'll go on alone. I'll stay here, and when they find out you're gone, I'll do what I can to delay them."

My heart is in my throat. "Why would you do that?"

His dark brows draw together, face puzzled. "Why wouldn't I?"

I don't have the time or energy to tell him that he's being a self-sacrificial dumbass and an absolute sweetheart at the same time. Grabbing his hand, I pull it off my wrist with effort, knowing he's only letting go because he doesn't want to hurt me.

"No," I tell him firmly. "You're coming with me, and we're getting out of here together. Or I'm not going at all."

"It would be better for you if—"

"Fuck what's better for me." Furious indignation leaks into my tone, and he draws back a little, as if surprised. I shove the key into the lock on his manacles and turn it with trembling fingers. "I'm not going to feel right about escaping if you're still trapped by them in that arena, being tortured and forced to fight. You're coming with me. And you'renotgoing to sacrifice yourself for my benefit."

As I unlock the other manacle, I dart a look up into his chiseled, scarred face. "Is that clear?"

His jaw tightens, and he opens his mouth—then pauses. A tiny smile curls up his lips, stretching the thin scar that bifurcates his upper lip. "Crystal."

"Good. Now let's get out of here, before those assholes come back."

As I reach for the back doors, Bastian grabs my elbow. Glancing over my shoulder, I frown at him, but he's just motioning towards the front of the van. "We should grab what we can from them before we go. Head out to the right, away from the gas station, and I'll look in the glovebox while you stand watch."

"As long as you're coming with me."

"I wouldn't think of doing anything else," he says, mouth twitching. "If you want me coming with you, that's exactly what I'll do, Delilah."

Breathing in sharply, I mutter, "Good... Bastian."

His mouth quirks up in further amusement. That name of his feels strange on my lips, like molten chocolate and soft silk. Turning back to the task at hand, I try not to think of his tawny bare chest as he crouches behind me in wait.

We grab onto the doors of the van at the same time, and pull them open with ease. The vampire who set the car up to fill with gas didn't even bother to lock them, probably because he assumed we'd be chained up in the back. That's good luck for us—forcing the doors open would've been noisy—and we hit another stroke of good luck when Bastian finds an open bag of the white powder on the middle console of the front seats.

"For insurance."

Nodding sharply, I study our location. It's a few hours after sunset, the sky a navy blue, dusk hanging in the air. Soon the moon and stars will be out in force. Based on the long stretch of highway on either side of us and the empty land all around, we're in some rural part of Oregon, far from any major human cities. That'll make things a little difficult, but not by much—I recognize the highway signs and mile markers enough to be able to get us back near Glass Pack Territory without too much trouble.

It'll also make us easy to track, which is why we'll be better off heading through rural areas and keeping well away from the highway. Motioning for Bastian to follow, I find a shadowed spot at the edge of the gas station parking lot, near a few RVs whose inhabitants have turned in for the night, and motion for him to follow me.

"Take this," he says, handing me the bag of powder as he gently eases the van's driver side door closed. "Use it if you see anything pale and undead."

I nod sharply, and he falls in behind me. We creep through the shadows together, one eye on the gas station and the now-empty van.

"Shit!" A familiar voice catches my attention, and I scramble to hide behind a parked SUV, Bastian right behind me. "The fuckers aren't in the back. Fuck, Vincent is gonna kill me.... Here doggy doggies!"

My hands clench at the tone of the vampire's voice. Behind me, Bastian huffs a breath laugh, pressing his chest against my back as we try to make ourselves as small as possible. His long hair swings forward to brush against my cheek, and I feel the warmth of him against me. If I turn my head, my lips will brush his bare muscles, a thought I spend far too many seconds indulging in.

Shaking myself out of it, I point out, "We'd be better off if I just powdered him—both of them, even. Care to run a distraction for me?"

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