Page 65 of Cold-Blooded Creatures

“Poison doesn’t require a team.” She grasped my jacket firmer, bracing against the icy wind coming from the raging sea and the raindrops hitting us with such force they left indentations in the sand. “Drug me for the fourth time, and I will add an extra spice to your breakfast.”

“Guys, we’re going back!” Ezra shouted as everyone haphazardly packed up the blankets, towels, dishes, and clothing, and raced to the beat-up cars.

We plodded back and, despite Kali’s objections, shoved her between me and Zion in the backseat with Eli at the wheel and Eislyn in the passenger seat. Howling wind assaulted the windows as we flew down the desolate roads back to the compound.

Fiddling with the fresh gauze I had wrapped around her palm, she asked, “Why won’t you release me?”

“You think this is prison?” I hooked a finger under her chin. “You could not be more wrong. I will set you free, Kali. And I will stand by your side while you rain death on everyone who wronged you.” I brushed away a fallen eyelash from under her eye, and her throat bobbed. “See? Your eyes are already flaming. I am going to kindle them until they explode.”

“I don’t think you know what would happen if you did,” she murmured, and tugged on the sleeves of my jacket, our sweatpants glued to our bodies from the sky’s shower.

Keeping to herself, she stared out the front window and stole glances at me and Zion. But in the middle of our drive home, exhaustion spread its wings and carried her off to the dream world, and her head fell on my shoulder.

I understood Zion’s obsession with watching her sleep. Her logic and reason would withdraw, instinct taking over, and her body would mold to yours.

Without knowing it yet, she was right where she belonged—with us.

Zion and me. Because, for some reason, it felt right.

He brought her left hand into his lap and began rubbing circles on her palm with his thumbs. His shirtsleeve rode up from the movement, exposing a sliver of his burn scars, a reminder of that forsaken night, my own nightmare straight from hell.

22

KALI

Istayed.

Five days had gone by since I’d conceded to Jayla’s incessant plea to come see her celebrate her first show at Vice. Five nights filled with nightmares. Five evenings, I skipped my dinner, pushing food around my plate with my fork, and hid in my room until the sun rose and I could pretend I’d slept through the night.

I flipped the knife Zion had gifted me open and threw it into the wall of my bedroom. Of course, it had to rebound and fall onto the hardwood floor.

Grinding my teeth, I stomped over from the windows and picked it up, flipping it open and closed repeatedly as I paced the expansive room. What was the point of staying if my past hunted me down each night?

I’d chosen selfishly and spent my time exploring the compound with Jayla, observed Eislyn train together with Eli, ate lunch with them and Ryder on the side of the training rings, and went out to explore the surrounding forests with Sadira and Ezra, who showed me a clearing close to the compound after I’d admitted I missed my time in the one near Ilasall.

I shut the windows before grabbing a white pillow from the bed and screaming into it. Nobody needed to hear my frustration.

No matter how hard I willed myself, I couldn’t get Gedeon or Zion out of my head. There was literally nowhere to run from those two. If not one, then the other always managed to catch me wherever I’d ended up. Like they could feel my existence.

Only if it didn’t send tingles to my toes when they’d find me. Those raised eyebrows, eyes full of wicked thoughts, constant smirks. Or a pout in Zion’s case. The bites Gedeon would leave on my neck and the way Zion would press me against the wall and nibble on my lips so they remained swollen and stinging for hours after.

And if one caught me with another, they’d lean against the wall or plop down in a chair and…watch. No fighting, no arguments, only smug smiles. As if we were an enjoyable sight they couldn’t get enough of.

It was driving me crazy.

And they never took more, never asked for more, never so much as mentioned more.

Except my body wanted more. Yelled for more.

But I wasn’t supposed to stay here.

I couldn’t.

I didn’t deserve this.

I couldn’t.

Yet I craved more.