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I OPENED MY EYESand jolted upright. Oh God, the vampire.
“About time you woke up.”
Kilter?
He was here. He found me. The vampire shot me in the leg and Kilter came for me.
He stood in the far right corner of the room, leaning against the wall, ankles and arms crossed, appearing casual and unconcerned. But his unkempt hair said otherwise, as if he’d run his hands through it repetitively. And so did his eyes as they drilled into me, intense and piercing.
“How long have I been sleeping?”
“Three hours,” he replied. He uncrossed his limbs, pushed away from the wall, and stalked toward the bed. “Your leg is healed. Anstice said you’ll be fine.”
My eyes widened as I realized there was no pain in my thigh. I moved my right leg beneath the sheets—nothing. I threw the sheet aside, forgetting about the possibility of being nude, and shifted up on my left hip to look. I ran my hands over where the wound would’ve been. Nothing. Not even a mark.
“Oh, my God.” Holy shit. A healer could do that? Heal someone from a bullet wound?
Kilter stopped at the foot of the bed.
I looked up at him, but his eyes were on my legs. My very naked legs. I quickly yanked the sheet back up. “She healed me? From a bullet wound?” Bruises were one thing, but this was incredible. No pain. Bruising. Stiffness. It was as if I’d never been shot.
“Yeah.” His voice was abrupt and there was tension in his stance as he looked at me. He curled and uncurled his hands and his scowl was fierce, yet there was something else there I didn’t recognize.
“Kilter?” What wasn’t he telling me?
His brows drew low over his eyes. Eyes that were no longer looking at me, but at the bed near my feet. What was wrong? Kilter was straightforward and honest. Direct as a missile. It was one of the reasons I’d been drawn to him. My entire life had been about deception and deceit. The lies from Anton to get me to conform and the lies I told myself.
He ran his fingers through his hair and shifted his body weight. “I should’ve been there. Six months ago, I should’ve been there for you and I wasn’t.” I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what to say to that. He half-grunted before tilting his head up and locking eyes on me. “I care about you and if anything happens to you…you mean something to me, babe.”
I did? And God, I liked that.
“Thank you for saving my life.” I paused then added. “Again.”
He grunted then walked over to the small antique chair near the door, grabbed the back of it, and dragged it over to the side of the bed and sat. “That vampire wouldn’t have killed you. You’d be dead right now if he did. He shot you, so you couldn’t run.”
“He said he was supposed to take me to someone.”
He didn’t say anything, but from his strained expression, he didn’t like hearing that.
He reached over to the nightstand and picked up a bowl with a spoon resting in it. Then he took a spoonful, and with his hand underneath it so none would drip on me, he brought it toward my mouth.
I balked. “Umm, I’m capable of feeding myself, Kilter. Perfectly healed, remember.”
“Open.”
He had that stubborn, determined glint in his eyes, so arguing was a moot point. “What is it?”
“Open.”
Obstinate as usual. It was irritating, but kind of comforting because Kilter was here. With me. I opened my mouth and swallowed the lukewarm chicken broth he fed me. I hated chicken soup. Anton had the cooks make it all the time when I was sick, which was often because I’d been unhealthy, at first by choice until it warped into something more.
“Kilter?”
“Yeah, babe.” He scooped up more soup.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I mean, from the Rest thing and then the vampire. He could’ve killed you, Kilter.”
“You worried about me?” The corners of his lip twitched upward and my heart rate increased. “And no, the vampire wouldn’t have killed me. He ran, remember. Open.” When I didn’t immediately, his brows lowered and his lips set in a thin line.
