Page 21 of Into the Fire: After
And if I’d tiptoed close enough to feel Lin and Caine in the bond? Yeah. No way I could’ve gone through with it.
And then there was one.
Hopefully two. Had to be two.
I’ll take that numbness now, please and thank you.
I barely remembered the rough drive back to the cabin, or turning off the car and walking inside. Yet the next time I blinked, I found myself in the foyer. Was this how Caine had felt walking back in after so long? A place familiar and foreign.
Standing in this place where I’d never once been alone, I expected it to feel too big. Just the opposite. The air compressed around me. Claustrophobic. The quiet felt loaded, like the moment between the cocking of a gun and the explosion of a life ending.
My feet traced the trail through the house, until I stood at the bottom of what had been the pack bed for the several days of Taryn’s heat. All of our scents still hung in the air. But they were the sharp scents of fear and urgency, pungent enough that my eyes watered.
Because they certainly weren’t watering for any other reason. None whatsoever.
I swiped away the moisture, shoved down the emotion they betrayed, and focused on the plan.
Step one: Clean and redress wound.
I made my way toward the bathroom, rummaging in the medicine cabinets for a first aid kit. The wounds were awkward to reach, but even a cursory cleaning and fresh gauze would be better than what I had. Plus, Taryn had made me swear on her life that I would, and I wasn’t going to add any more risk to her head than I already had.
Step two: Drink water. Eat food.
Snacks littered the dresser of the bedroom: apples, strawberries, grapes, crackers, jerky sticks. A nearly decimated flat of water bottles sat on the floor beside it. Our quick-access sustenance.
Taryn had been so thin when I’d found her. If only I could’ve gotten her in here somehow, let her eat her fill before she threw herself to the wolves.
Before I let go of her hand and watched her enter their lair, weak and malnourished.
I nearly choked on the water. I stared at the apples, still bunched in plastic wrap—apparently not a favorite of our heat-crazed omega. Or me, in this moment. My stomach roiled at the thought of forcing one down.
Later, then.
Step three: Parlay with Vikki. Gather supplies.
Enough for myself and Brea—for whenI found her.
More water. Food. Clothing for us both. I grabbed my phone—it was still sitting plugged in upstairs—and called the number Vikki had scrawled on the note. She didn't answer.
"Dr. Arceneaux here. Just, ah, following up on that case you interviewed me about recently. Reachable at this number. Thanks."
Lame as hell, but hopefully vague enough so as not to trigger suspicion if it were intercepted.
While I waited for the call back, I used the alert app to find the hunting cameras Lin and Caine had posted around the property. This hadn’t technically been part of Taryn’s marching orders for me. Maybe it was my ER brain, constantly concocting second and third and fourth plans in case the first failed, running through contingencies even as I stitched up someone’s head or intubated a crashing patient. I just wanted to be sure that whatever those cameras had captured, we had at the ready. In case.
By the time I returned to the house, I was sweating, sore, and exhausted. The house was safe enough now, the bad guys having gotten what they came for, so I didn’t bother locking up before heading upstairs.
I’m editing the plan,I said in my head.Step three-point-five: Sleep.
Somethingtickledmyleg.I shifted on the bed, trying to escape the tickle, but it followed me.
Oh my god, there’s a spider in the bed.
I was awake in an instant, jumping out from the sweat-damp sheets, swatting at myself to get the spider off.
My leg tickledagain.Abruptly, then stopped.
Pocket.
