Page 63 of Damon

"We need to move," he says, standing up and offering me his hand. "Before they pick up our trail again."

"What comes next if we find a safe place?"

He looks at me, and I see something in his eyes that looks like determination mixed with something darker.

"We end this. We find out who's been feeding the Vergas information, we eliminate the threat, and we make sure no one ever tries to hurt you again."

"And then?"

"We’ll figure that out if we make it that long."

"Is that possible?"

"I don't know. But I'm willing to find out if you are."

I look at this dangerous man who's promised to protect me with his life, who's admitted that keeping me safe is all that matters to him, and I know there's only one answer I can give.

"Yes. I'm willing to find out."

Because whatever comes next, whatever we have to face, I want to face it with him.

Even if it kills us both.

Chapter 19: Damon

The hunting cabin hasn't been used in years, but it's dry which is all we need right now. One room with a stone fireplace, a few pieces of old furniture, and windows that give us clear sightlines in all directions.

Viviana helps me check the perimeter while I try to ignore the throbbing in my arm. The cut has stopped bleeding, but it's going to need proper cleaning and stitching.

"It's secure," she says, coming back from checking the eastern approach. "No signs anyone's been here recently."

"We'll stay here tonight, then move out at first light. There’s another safe house about fifty miles north."

She nods, but I can see exhaustion in every line of her body. The adrenaline from our escape is wearing off, leaving her shaky and pale.

"Sit," I tell her, pointing to the old couch. "Rest."

"I'm fine."

"You're running on adrenaline which means you’ll crash hard soon. Sit."

She doesn't argue this time, sinking onto the couch like her legs won't hold her anymore. I start building a fire, partly for warmth but mostly to give myself something to do with my hands while I try to process what happened this morning.

We almost died. Both of us.

If I'd been thirty seconds slower getting to that window, if Viviana had frozen instead of moving, if any one of a dozen things had gone differently, we'd be dead right now.

The thought makes something violent twist in my chest.

"Damon?"

"What?"

"You're bleeding through the bandage."

I look down at my arm. She's right, there's fresh blood seeping through the fabric she wrapped around the cut.

"It's nothing serious."