Page 92 of Tested
Chapter Twenty-Six
David
I’ve got the tune to “Sunrise, Sunset,” the song fromFiddler on the Roof, running through my head. Little did I know, back in high school when I scratched a very brief musical theater itch, that someday my life would be governed by those two points on the daily calendar.
Although I guess in this case it’d be “Sunset, Sunrise.”
I stifle a yawn. Goddamn I’m tired. The sun is high enough in the east to turn the western horizon light blue, and Trajan headed for the vamp room about thirty minutes ago. I’m waiting up, though, because I sent Connor a text and I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to sleep until he answers it.
Another half an hour passes.Screw it. I pick up my phone and call him. Then I nearly drop it when he answers.
“David?”
“Where the hell are you?”
“I…can’t tell you that.”
Fear sends all my blood from my brain to other parts of my anatomy so fast my head swims. “What do you mean?”
There’s a long pause before he answers. “I’ve figured out who the murderer is.”
“Yes…?”
“I can’t tell you who, and I can’t tell you where I am, because he could turn up asking questions that I’d rather you didn’t know the answer to.”
“O-kay.” Someone who could turn up here asking questions? I want to start guessing names, but I’m afraid I’ll be right. “So you’re in hiding?”
He sighs. “Basically.”
“You’re on your own, hiding somewhere.”
“Not…alone.”
My earlier fear starts to shift toward anger. “Let’s make sure we’re on the same page, here. You and another person know who the murderer is and now you’re hiding from him or her. On your own. With no one to help you. Is that about it, or do you have a cadre of Elites backing you up?”
His laugh sounds broken. “Nope, no Elites. Trajan put an end to their willingness to cooperate.”
“But you’re still working with them?”
He gives an exasperated sigh. “Poole and Brodie, the guys you met, are my only contacts at this point.”
Matching his exasperation with some irritation of my own, I poke at him again. “So…would you like some help?”
“I don’t…I just…”
“Oh for crying out the upstairs window. Your need to play solo is getting really fucking old. Grab your friend and come here.”
He’s silent for a long minute. “I don’t want to put you in any more danger than I have already.”
My eyes roll so hard it makes my ears ring. “Which of us hobbled around on a broken knee to take the kill shot when my former pack cut me loose?”
He doesn’t respond.
“And like, which one of us stepped up to help me create a new pack, one I should never have been able to create on my own?”
Silence.
“That’s what pack is for, pookie. You’ve risked your life for me, and now I’m going to return the favor.”
