Page 53 of Entangled

Relief. Bitterness. Betrayal. Joy. Fury. It’s too many things. Too many things, and all at once. My breath starts coming in short, sharp pants.

“Oh, hey!” a bright voice sing-songs. “Did we win?”

Chapter17

Jasper

Survival tip #274

Understanding the human mind may save your life.

But you won’t always like what you see.

Several dozen heads whip toward us, and I suppress a sigh. The child is a curse and a demon, but at least she’s finally stopped fighting to get free. She had seemed too determined by half to run into the middle of the fight with only her little rock sling.

I do have to give her some points for an excellent kick. I’m not sure I’ll be able to locate my knife after she sent it flying.

“Kasey? Is that you? You’ll send us all into an early grave,” a woman calls, sounding harassed, but I can’t make out much past Jaykob and the scrub until a face pops up next to him. The woman’s eyes hone in on me. “Who is this?”

The girl rolls her eyes. “It’s just Grandpa. He’s too slow to hurt anyone.”

My molars press together at the reminder of why I never chose to have children. She catches sight of Jaykob and bursts forward, ignoring the woman.

“Hey, can you show me how to use that gun?” she asks.

Jaykob is staring at something I can’t see, but gives her an annoyed, distracted look. “No.”

“Can I borrow it so I can teach myself?”

He snorts. “Fuckno.”

“Kasey!” the woman urges again, a snap to her voice.

I ease forward, resigning myself to an awkward introduction and a lecture to Jaykob about appropriate language in front of a minor that will undoubtedly be ignored, when I finally see what has captured his anxious attention so entirely.

Eden stands in the middle of a loose flock of people who are watching her with tight expressions. She’s turned away from the redheaded she-devil in the clearing. Her arms are wrapped around herself, and her hair tumbles frazzled and limp out of her braid. Her face is pale. Drawn.

She’s utterly lovely.

And the sight of hershakesme.

I’m the vibrating tines of a fork suddenly struck against a glass for a speech. I’m hit so violently that I’m not sure if the reverberations will rip me apart. The force of my reaction stuns me. All the winding tension, the sick fear and guilt, the horror of the past eleven days whip through my insides.

She’s whole.

She’shere.

Dominic crowds her, his mouth tight with concern. He doesn’t reach for her again—every inch of her body language is a scream for space.

“Move back, Captain,” I say as I approach, not shifting my eyes from the beautiful, distressed librarian at his side.

Dominic’s glare is frustrated but laced with worry.

It’s an effort to soften my tone as I reach him, stopping a short distance away from Eden. “Back up, Dominic. I have her.”

His jaw flexes, then he scrubs a hand over his short hair and nods, moving back. Not far, but enough.

My attention is already back on Eden, on the rapid rise-fall of her chest under her torn, grimy shirt. Her glasses dangle by their chain around her neck, the lenses smudged and splattered, and I can see the clamorous pulse in the almost translucent skin at her throat. She seems unbearably fragile, her bandaged wrists turned out like she’s begging for mercy as she clutches at her head.

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