Page 93 of Fangs
“Do you think it’s possible for me toshowyou a memory?”
“Uh, I dunno.”
“Can I try?”I asked anxiously.
He nodded, and I let the memory flood my mind, watching him. His body tensed, his eyes going unfocused, and I knew it was working—no going back now.
I lay on Juck’s bed in his tent, sobbing through my teeth. The pain in my arm was so sharp it made me feel like I was going to be sick. Rusty, the man who had filled in as healer before me, was trying to maneuver my arm into the correct position so he could wrap it in a splint, and my body kept moving despite how hard I was trying to hold still.
“You’re gonna have to drug her,” Rusty finally said, glaring at me. “I can’t get her fuckin’ arm wrapped up if she keeps jerkin’ like that.”
I’d never been drugged, and it scared me. I didn’t want to be helpless, especially around the Reapers. Juck approached with the needle, and panic grew in me.
“Juck,” I got out, my voice raspy and shaking, “please?—”
He stopped and sat by my head, gently stroking my hair out of my face. I thought he’d be furious at me for the bike accident, even though it wasn’t my fault. I was just the passenger, stuck clinging to Mojave and pleading for him to stop as he sped toward the rocks the Reapers had been using to do tricks on their bikes. But when Juck strode up to the crash where I was half pinned under the bike, screaming in pain, he’d just put a bullet in Mojave’s head and then shoved the bike off me, his face full of furious concern. It was one of the rare moments where I felt like maybe part of him actually cared about me, and I hated how desperate those moments made me feel. When he cared for me and was gentle, it was like some pathetic part of me turned weak, and I craved how he spoke and touched me like he actually loved me.
“Don’t worry, Angel,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”
“I’m scared.” I heard myself sob, reaching up to cling to his hand.
He wrapped his rough fingers around mine and leaned down to press a kiss to the back of my hand.
“Don’t be scared. S’alright,” he soothed. “You know I’ll always protect you.”
He freed his hand from mine and took my arm. I jumped at the prick of the needle in my arm.
“Just close your eyes, Angel.”
It felt like ice was filling my veins, and terror filled me, but Juck’s face was already blurring into darkness.
I thought it would feel like sleeping, like I’d close my eyes and then open them to find that time had passed. Instead, it felt like I was floating in a pitch-black darkness that made my skin crawl. I waited a few minutes, my heart pounding in my throat, but nothing happened. The air around me felt thick, almost like water, but not quite. The darkness pressed in on me, heavy and suffocating. The panic felt like electricity sizzling under my skin as I struggled to breathe.
“Please.” I wasn’t sure if I was speaking out loud or in my head. “Please help me. Get me out. Please!”
A sudden gust of air floated over me like someone had just run up and stopped before me. I stared wide-eyed into the darkness, my heart tripping over itself in terror. I couldn’t see anything, but there was something there—a presence I could somehow sense even though I couldn’t see, hear, or feel anyone.
I tried to stay quiet, to hide like Wolf had taught me, but eventually, I couldn’t take it any longer.
“Who’s there?” I whispered.
It felt like the darkness reached out, an arm and hand forming from nothing but shadows to touch my face. It was a gentle touch, but I still flinched with a gasp.
“Who are you?” I tried and failed to ask confidently.
“I’ve been looking for you for so long,” A velvet voice whispered through my head, and the hair on the back of my neck rose.
I still couldn’t see anything, but every instinct that had kept me alive so far was screaming at me to run and hide. Whoever or whatever this was, it was dangerous, but I couldn’t run or hide. I was stuck here, trapped by the heavy drugs in my veins.
“Don’t be afraid.” The voice seemed to attempt to sound comforting, which only terrified me further.
I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking. The voice sounded male and not old, but that was my only impression. I didn’t respond, desperately hoping this was a vivid dream.
“You’re not dreaming.” The voice sounded amused now. “I’m as real as you are.”
I could feel his excitement crackling in the air. He seemed to circle me, examining me from every angle.
“I’m nothing,” I tried desperately. “I’m no one.”
