Page 63 of Unveil

I don’t know what that reaction’s about, but I look around again before giving my verdict.

“If you spruced it up a bit, it’d be quite cozy.” There’s a pause between us, and I sigh. “Do we know where we are? You know, before we go allSouthern Livingmagazine up in here?”

When I meet his gaze again, he clears his throat and quickly looks away. He takes one final bite and sets his plate on the wooden floor.

“Best I can figure is we’re in a Lost Cove holler.” He chuckles dryly. “Only you could accidentally findthelost cove.”

“A ‘holler’?” I frown.

“Ahollow, but we call it a holler. It’s a small valley cut off from everything else.” He dips a washcloth in a bucket, wipes his hands, then passes it to me. “I went as far as I’d let myself withyou unconscious, but we’re good and trapped, with rock walls all around. With your ankle and this weather,” he huffs. “We’re stuck. At least until the rain clears.”

“Stuck.” My eyes widen. “Wait,stuck?”

He sucks his teeth. “Yup. We’re safe for now, but we’re too close to Old Bridge, Wilde territory, for my liking. I reckon it’s as impossible to get down in here as it is to get out, though. I set traps for good measure, but I want to get us to Dark Corner as soon as this ‘Storm of the Century’ passes.”

“Are your brothers not hotshot trackers like you? Call them. Maybe they can come get us.”

“Call them with what?” He points to a phone nearby, screen cracked to smithereens. “Turns out in a game of rock, water, SAT phones, SAT phones always lose. And even the best hunters can’t win against washed-out tracks. I’ll work on clearing a path while you heal, and as soon as you can walk, we’re outta here.”

“And then you’ll take me back to New Orleans.”

He sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “It’s like you said. I’ve declared war between five families back there. The Troisgarde, the Furys,andthe Wildes. We all want you for different reasons, and the only way you won’t be trapped is with me. It’s love or bondage at this point, little bird.” He sips the water, then shrugs. “Better get used to it.”

He hands the water to me.

“I don’t have to—” at one sip, my bladder perks up after its long rest. “Oh my God, I have to pee.”

He chuckles and grabs his jacket before holding out his hand. “I’ll help you.”

I swat him away. “The hell you will.”

“I won’t give you an inch so you can fly a mile again. Besides, you don’t even know where to go.”

“So! I’ll figure it out.” I wag my finger at him as I stand. “You may kidnap me, chase me, drug me, but I draw the line at watching—ah!”

Blinding pain shoots through me again at the slightest weight on my foot, and I land in his outstretched arms.

“Jesus, you reckless little bird. What am I going to do with you?”

I groan. “Take me to the bathroom, I guess. Oh God, this is going to be embarrassing.”

He laughs again as he scoops me up in a bridal carry, making me squeal. I cling to him, and I have to admit, I hate him, but with his warmth and the muscles of his naked chest moving against the thin shirt I’m wearing, I don’t mind this.

With my arms around him, he shifts so one arm is under my butt and he can grab a roll of toilet paper by the door. He hands it to me, then covers my head and body with his jacket.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna watch. There’s an outhouse with a door and everything out back.”

My nose scrunches. “Like… a port-a-potty in the woods?”

“Trust me, an Appalachian outhouse is a million times better than a Mardi Gras port-a-potty.” He snorts, already moving to leave. “And you better not do anything reckless.”

“Like what?”

“Run away.” He gives me a pointed look before grinning. “Well… limp away.”

I scowl, an argument on my tongue, but he’s opened the door, and a breathtaking mix of hot and cold gusts of rain-laced wind slams it against the wall with a bang.

“Shit.” Orion rushes out, hurrying to latch it closed behind him as thunder cracks and lightning leaves the sting of ozone scent in the air.