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My eyes fly open, taking a minute to adjust to the bright light of the midday sun. As things come back into focus, I realize I’m no longer in the arena. A seat belt holds me upright in the backseat of a car. I gasp for air, not realizing I’d been holding my breath, and that’s when I feel the shooting pain coming from everywhere.

“Shit. Are you okay back there?” a voice asks from the driver’s seat. In my haze, I can’t quite tell whose voice it is.

“Jonah?”

“No. My name is Amos. I’m taking you somewhere safe.”

“Safe…where is safe?” A practical question because literally nowhere is safe. But exactly where is this stranger taking me? I groan as my skin burns up, phase one of my healing process.

“You aren’t going to turn, are you? I saw you in the so-called Colosseum months ago. You were ripped apart. And here you are, chewed up a bit, but nothing like—”

“Who are you?” I ask, feeling dizzy, my head spinning as I try to focus on everything this stranger says to me. “Are you one of Doctore’s guardians?”

“No. I’m not part of any of that.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“I promise you are safe with me. For the most part.” This guy winks at me as he looks up at the rearview mirror. He freaking winked at me.

I fall back against the leather seats and close my eyes. Then I realize, this is the first time I haven’t been taken back to Doctore’s lab after getting bitten like this. What if I need some more of that serum to make sure I heal instead of turn? It would be rather rude of me if I end up eating my savior.

And who the hell is this guy anyway? He said he’d seen me get ripped apart, meaning he had to have been at the arena months ago. Why was he there? How did he get in? I can’t imagine Doctore lets just anyone in to see his prized gladiator.

The heat inside me radiates to infernal temperatures. Usually I’m hooked up to IVs and covered in ice packs when I’m like this. Though it was always a painful process, I guess it took most of the pain away. Now I’m feeling every twinge of pain. I cry out, unable to hold it together.

“Shit. Tell me you are going to be okay.”

“I’m…I’m not turning. It’s just…healing. It hurts. Body hot. Head…need water.”

“Let me pull over. We are just about to enter The Wall. I’m afraid if we stop inside, there will be questions. If anyone sees the state of you, they’ll execute on the spot.”

The Wall? Execute on the spot?“This is…safe?” I ask aloud.

“The Wall is the safest way to travel in the region, yes. But the military is ruthless and will not risk any infected getting through. We are only using The Wall to get us where we need to go as fast as possible. I promise. You will be safe.”

I feel the car slow to a stop. My savior, whose name I’ve already forgotten, grabs a pack from the front seat and starts rummaging through it. I close my eyes against the next wave of pain, then I feel cool hands on my head. “Copperhead, you are on fire!”

“Copperhead?”

“Sorry, I don’t know your name, so I’ve just been calling you Copperhead since your hair is the color of copper. Very original, I know.”

“My name…ahhhhh.” I throw myself against the car seat, grinding my teeth at the pain. It is unbearable. So much so that I’m doubting my earlier statement. Maybe I am turning.

I hear the click of the seat belt and feel hands on my body as they guide me down, but I can’t open my eyes or unclench my jaw. A cool drip of water touches my lips, shocking my system for a moment. That moment is all I needed to loosen the grip of pain and open my mouth for a delicious sip of cold water.

“That’s it. Good girl. Slow sips.”

As I take another gulp, my eyes slowly open to see the face of the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Wavy black hair. Golden brown skin. A face perfectly chiseled and scruffy. Brown eyes speckled with gold. A freaking angel. Although, I never imagined an angel would have a beard. Especially a scruffy one. A fallen angel then. I smile at the thought, which makes some of the water from his bottle drip down my face.

This angelic man pulls the water bottle away and awkwardly squats in between the center console and where I’ve sprawled out on the backseat. “What are you smiling about?”

“Angels with beards,” I reply with a slur.

He chuckles. “You might be delirious and feverish, but you are definitely not turning into a biter. Though I wouldn’t mind if you nibbled on me.”

Is this guy seriously flirting with me right now?My skin is a furnace, healing from the multiple bite marks and other wounds I received in the Colosseum. I close my eyes and push through the pain to pull myself upright.

“Here, take one more sip.”