Page 67 of Oleander
I pull the canteen from my pack and hand it to Ander. He guzzles nearly the whole thing and wipes his face with his arm, wincing when he presses his bruised nose.
Fuck, this is gonna be hard to tell him.
“Why does it feel like sandpaper is rubbing on my brain, Sky?” He massages his temples as we continue on our way, searching for safety. Ander stumbles, and I grip him tighter.
I take a deep, steady breath, my muscles burning as I bear the weight of our very lives right now. “Don’t freak out, but we were ambushed, and a ghoul possessed you. We uh. . . we had a little. . .tussle, but I defibrillated you and well, here we are.Are you okay?”
It’s kind of a dumb question; I’m sure we’ll both be traumatized after this. Watching his unseeing eyes staring back at me will likely haunt me for the rest of my life.
“I. . . I don’t know,” he admits honestly, the only way he knows how.
I’ll try a different route. “Do you know somewhere we can go that’s even a tiny bit safe out here?” I stare up at the thick canopy of trees longingly. I don’t think Ander’s going to be able to climb right now, but we need to hunker down for a couple of hours and regroup.
Ander places his palm on the thick bark of an ancient pine. He closes his eyes, whispering softly. I’m hesitant to let him use any magic when he’s so weak, but I let him make his own decisions. When his eyes pop open, they’re pulsing like the tree is charging him.
Vines drop down, and branches begin to crisscross, building a lattice.
“The plants are helping,” Ander whispers, tugging my hand and putting one foot up on the wooden ladder.
“Are you sure?” I have to ask because I don’t trust these woods.
“Yes.”
I follow after Ander, climbing until we reach a small platform hidden under the lush canopy of interwoven trees and thickvines. Once we get settled, the lattice retreats and for the first time since the sun went down, I feel a tiny semblance of safety.
Thanks to Oleander and his plants.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
OLEANDER
My temples feel like they’re being pounded by sledgehammers. I’ve never felt so weak or so vulnerable in my entire life. When that ghoul had control of my body, I couldn’t feel anything except a coldness so deep and so severe my bones still ache.I was possessed.Trapped in a frozen nothingness, suspended between worlds and between my own mind and body.
It’s nothing I’d wish on anyone.Not even my worst enemy.
“Here.” Skyler wraps a blanket around my shoulders, and I realize I’m shaking. From the cold, my own fear, and residual shock. He hands me the canteen again. “We’re safe up here now. Nothing can get us.”
I let him think that and stare out at the golden lights dotting the trees. The royal moths glow brightly, lighting the dark wood for the Queen’s Guard, rightfully earning their moniker. I let their beauty distract me from the horrible events of the night and the deep chill that’s settled into my bones. Regardless of the insulated blanket wrapped around me, I’m still shivering. Skyler rubs my arms, attempting to warm me up, but I think I may be in shock, so it’s not working.
I examine his handsome face, spotting the gash in his eyebrow.
Explains all the blood.
“You’re hurt,” I murmur, stating the obvious, but my brain isn’t firing on all cylinders at the moment.
“It’s nothing.” He tries to play it off, but he might need stitches. The best I can do is treat and dress his wound. I ignore the troll stomping on my temples and unzip my bag, pulling out a few jars of ointment and a bandage. At least this will keep me from the overwhelming thoughts threatening to pull me under.
I can’t chase away the chill or the feeling of nothingness while that ghoul had possession of me.
“How did this happen?” I ask, afraid of the answer when I catch sight of the bruising on my own knuckles. I grab a small towel and pour some water on it, gently wiping the dried blood away.
“The ghoul punched me in the face.”
I appreciate the fact that he saidthe ghoul, but it still doesn’t stop the sharp stab of pain of knowing I hit him. And hurt him pretty badly, too. Possibly even scaring him.
“Skyler.I’m so?—”
“Don’t,” he insists, cutting me off mid-apology. “Just clean me up so we can eat. I’m famished.” His icy blue eyes implore me to let it go, and if he can, then I guess I can too. I nod, finishing the job and applying a small butterfly bandage to his eyebrow, stopping the slow trickle of blood from seeping out.
