Page 51 of Tortured Soul
“Promise you won’t go and try to retrieve your bike,” he asked, searching my face for something I couldn’t decipher.
I forced a smile.
“I promise.”
I wasn’t going there to retrieve my bike. I was going there to make sure my friend wasn’t doing anything stupid.
Chapter 16
Lola
Ihad to find him.
I turned myself invisible the second I left Arc’s house and ran toward the entrance of the camp.
Strange how I could feel the power coursing through my veins. It’s been a while since I’ve recharged on something other than a human, and I forgot how powerful the energy felt. How potent it was.
I couldn’t even feel the strain of the barrier anymore, so much that I almost didn’t realize when I crossed it and reached the unprotected zone outside the camp.
I stopped and closed my eyes, letting the millenia old connection that tethered me to him flutter back to life.
Time passed. Seconds. Minutes. Nothing happened. Was I wrong? Could it be another fully cursed Nephilim who somehow ended up here and was interested in my bike?Hisbike?
My heart missed a couple of beats when I felt that old and familiar, barely noticeable tug and my legs started to move of their own accord.
He was here. How long has it been? Maybe five years since I last felt him close. Almost a century since we last spoke.
I followed the hooking feeling. Each of my steps made our weak connection thrum, the air vibrating around me. Between us. He stopped moving but I could still hear the engine of the bike as I walked into the dead, arid forest. Its towering trees long turned to stone, their color and shape forever changed by the unbearable heat and occasional acid rain.
And there he was, a giant leaning on the side of my bike, his arms crossed in front of him, feet kicking at the sand and dirt. We were surrounded by the menacing stone formations and yet, seeing him made my heart settle in my chest.
My breath hitched and steps faltered. It shouldn’t shock me anymore, the color of his hair, the paleness of his skin accentuated by his dark clothes.
Sunglasses were covering his eyes. Eyes Iknewwere entirely red. Like they’ve been for a very long time.
Here he was, a Nephilim fallen to madness. To hiscurse.
“I know you’re here,” he teased, lifting his head toward me, his voice a familiar purr in my ear.
I loosened my hold on my invisibility, slowly appearing in front of him. He didn’t move, looking at me through his sunglasses. The forest was silent as we took each other in, ten feet apart.
His lips curled in a crooked smile.
“I like the blonde hair,” he said.
A little scoff escaped me. “You do?”
He shrugged. “You’re always beautiful. Never saw you blonde before. I like it.”
My eyes drifted to his silver locks and he froze, his shoulders tensing. Saying I was used to it would be a lie. I kept seeing his raven black hair, the one he had back when we met.
“You grew yours,” I simply pointed out. “Last time I saw you, it was shorter.”
“It was longer when we met, though.”
True. It nearly reached his shoulders back then. Now it was parted to the side and slightly falling over his eye. Just long enough to rake your hands through the silky strands, which I used to do.A lot.
I took one step forward. Careful, slow, as his head tilted to the side in question.
