Grayson lifts my hand to his mouth and brushes his lips to the area.
For a quicksilver second, magic flashes in my veins. There’s nothing but the touch, how he’s much stronger than I am. His arms had closed around me, as if somehow without trying, his touch alone will mend my wounds.
I bite my tongue to keep from ruining it and my heart scratches against my ribs before he breaks contact.
The witches help Lacey free from the cavity of the tree. “Let’s get on the road. We’ve got ten hours.”
Night hits and clouds roll in to blanket the sky. The electrical hiss of lightning and ozone fill the clearing and the heaviness in the air promises rain. Luckily, we’ve left the forest behind us.
RJ drives us free from the madness of the wilderness in a van with black-painted windows.
We drive through the darkness, hours ticking away and the first pellets of rain hitting the roof.
Soon the windshield wipers beat a mad rush to keep the glass clear through the downpour. My stomach gives a few plaintive cries for food then falls still when I notice it.
Colt keeps his distance from Grayson, like no one will notice the tension beating like a baby bird’s wings, desperate for flight. Whatever happened in their fight, neither of them are willing to speak about it.
Aimee, being the type of person who thinks ahead, had packed a change of clothes, but before Grayson can pull the shirt over his head, I stop him.
“My wounds are fine. They’ll heal,” he tells me gruffly.
His sluggish movements and the awful swelling of those veins say otherwise.
I make him sit against the side of the van and move between his outstretched legs. “But they’re not. You’re getting worse.”So am I. “I have to do something.”
This is more for me than it is for him.
He releases a tired laugh before forcing his reply out. “It doesn’t matter, Mandi. This is the end.”
Copper fills my mouth at the acknowledgment.
His heart thuds against his ribs like it’s waiting for the next sucker punch, and blood flows from the scratches across his abdomen. Bruises spread across his ribs and I can’t tell if these are claw marks or dragging lines from bites.
“What happened?”
Grayson glances down at the tender spot, hissing. “Colt had to restrain me. I don’t remember much of it. He says I attacked him and wrecked the car when…the change happened.”
I drag the first aid kit closer and think of Grayson at the vending machine. The stretch of his smile, his high cheeks, the healthy flirtation.
The man in front of me is not the same person, and every second that passes is nothing but us shouting into the void.
“You don’t remember losing control?” I ask.
“No. One minute I was there with you. The next…I’m not sure how to describe it. It’s painful, but also a strange numb sensation in my head. And through the numbness it’s those voices again. They’re screaming at me until it’s impossible to remember who I am. I have no idea what I’m doing until I come out of it.”
He used himself as a battering ram. That’s what.
“It’s the curse,” I say instead.
I pop open the lid of the kit that Aimee also had the good sense to pack and grab one of the flimsy antiseptic wipes. It curls around my finger and comes away from Grayson stained.
“I’m really sorry.” Grayson’s voice drops low, rough and exhausted. “I put you in this position. You should have left me the night I found you.”
“You mean the night I foundyou.”
“Mandi.” A ghost of a smile lifts his lips. “I’ve almost killed you on multiple occasions. If we’d been alone, if Colt weren’t strong enough to contain me, what do you think would have happened?”
I brush the wipe across one of the claw marks, careful, but he winces anyway. “I’m used to it by now.”