Page 80 of Obliterated
So that’s exactly what we do.
And I’m hating every second of it.
We’re stuck here, Kieran and me, and I’ve got nothing to do besides reread stupid books, do some training, and, well… have my fucking way with him.
Shit, his body is a bruised, beautiful mess right now because I can’t stay off him; I can’t keep my claws to myself. I need him every time the quiet presses in, every time grief claws at the back of my throat and the memory of Tass pulls me the fuck apart.
He lets me. Of course he lets me. Welcomes it, even. Those big, fuck-me eyes go hazy with lust and roll back in his head when I drive him through the wall, when I claim him and mark him and take everything he has to offer. And Gods help me, I do.
Fuck. I never knew sex could be like this. That it could amplify everything I am and, at the same time, quiet those voices. Calm them. Soothe them. It’s not only me that’s caught in his hold; my beasts are just as trapped, as enamored, by him.
It’s been days since we came back from the mansion, since he found me on the balcony.
When he braved the red rain to get to me.
That’s the other thing I hate right now: my own head. The way it keeps unraveling because I’m going absolutely out of my mind with worry. We don’t know if Kieran’s Touched or not. If he’s doomed the same way Tass was.
Tass…
I killed my best friend.I stabbed a dagger into the side of her skull and felt the life drain out of her as she lay on top of me.
And every time I close my eyes, I see that dark-haired girl with those big green eyes asking me that question that started it all. “Do you wanna play with me?”
Six years. Six fucking years. That’s how old she was when she found me. Every day after she dared me, made me run after her. Across rooftops, the Watcher castle, over the wall, in the forest. Always scaling, running, laughing.
But that first day we found a Walker when we darted through the forest, and we killed it together. Unlike the other kids at the orphanage, she didn’t scream, she didn’t cry, and she wasn’t afraid. She kicked the corpse and laughed in that manic cackle I’d come to know too well.
I knew it right then, even though we were still so young, that she was mine. Fearless, reckless, loyal to a fault. That was Tass. My Tass.
And I killed her.
I know I didn’t pull the trigger on whatever took her; it was the infection that fucked everything. The fucking virus. The same virus that’s now trying to kill Kieran. My Kieran.
I’m not going to let it happen. I won’t let it take him, won’t let it destroy him or rip him away from me. If he changes, if that thing inside him wins, there’s one thing I know: I’ll die with him.
I’d drive a bullet right through my own fucking skull after sending him to the afterlife.
I can’t survive that endless, searing pain again. The darkness that tries to swallow me and almost won, the grief with Tass’s name carved into it. I’m barely holding on as it is, and I won’t do it again.
Ican’t.
“See,” Kieran says, holding the little strip out in front of me, pulling me out of my thoughts. It’s a testing strip, like I’ve seen a thousand times. It’s for blood. We know one thing for sure: your blood slowly darkens if you get infected.
If you want a proper, definitive test, you can always go up to the lab up north, or to the medical station here in the city, but Roe’s orders were crystal clear: do not leave your apartment. Sowe only have these damn strips, scavenged from Tass’s place. A place I can’t bring myself to go into.
I sent Kieran. She lived right below me, and I even made him bring back things of hers that were still here, because it hurts too much to look at them myself: her shoes, those rotten strawberries left in the fridge, scattered clothes, a bottle of nail polish. She used to be at my place all the time, and the ghost of her lingers here.
He didn’t take the rubber duckies because he likes them too much, and every time I see them, that pang rips through my chest.
Exactly like what happens every time we let a drop of his blood fall on those damn strips.
It still hasn’t darkened. The red square—the same color as the control—blinks back at me. Safe.
“That’s good, right?” His ocean-blue eyes search mine, wide and raw, full of worry, the nerves visible.
I sigh, then pull him close and hold him. “Yeah, I think so, Kee.”
I hope so.
