Page 199 of Stormbreaker

Rook shakes out his hand as he steps away. “Fuck, that felt good.”

He turns back to me, his gaze darting over my shoulder before he shouts, “Poet! Run!”

He grips my hand as we stumble together, trying to find our balance.

We make it a few feet, and I cry out as pain bursts in my left side.

Suddenly, my legs and arms stop working.

My body freezes, and I begin to fall.

71

“Poet!” Rook shouts, catching me just before I crash to the floor. A moment later, he’s hauling me onto his shoulder, and then he’s running. I bounce against him, my stomach digging painfully into bone.

Why can’t I move?

I can hear and think and see, but my bones have been sucked out, leaving me as limp as Teddy.

I want to do something, but all I can manage is a helpless whimper as Rook finally reaches the staircase leading to our room and pounds down the steps.

He bursts into our dorm room and lays me on the bed.

“You’re awake,” he says, his brow furrowing, his breathing labored. “Their stunners must work differently on us.”

He doesn’t wait to figure out what it means before disappearing from my view. I hear him moving around the room, and it becomes obvious he’s packing a bag. I hear the rustle of clothing. The crackle of paper.

He moves to my side and appears above me again. I blink uselessly at him, trying to make my tongue cooperate, but it just comes out as a groan.

“Poet, I need you to trust me. We have to get out of here.” He watches me. “Please blink three times and tell me you understand.”

Indecision wars in my gut. I know he’s right, but he’s been deceiving me. I wish I could speak. I need to know when he realized he was there the night Raine was taken.

Did he lie to my face?

The rest I can understand, I think. But not Raine.

Rook was there . . . Meaning he was at least partly responsible when I lost one of the most important people in my life. My stomach lurches, but I can’t curl into myself because I can’t fucking move. I wonder what would happen if I threw up.

“The Shield is lying to all of you,” Rook says. It’s not the answer I wanted, but at least it’s something. “And if they get ahold of you, then you will wish for death. Do you understand me? You don’t know what they’re capable of.”

He drops to his knees and takes my limp hand. “Please, they’re coming. We don’t have much time.”

I inhale a sharp breath and . . . I blink.

Once. Twice. Three times.

“Thank you,” Rook breathes, kissing my fingers before he’s up again. I hear him shuffling through my drawers and closet, stuffing more items into a bag. I don’t know what he’s taking, but I suppose it doesn’t matter much.

“I’ll keep you safe, Poet.” He says it like it’s an oath. I want so desperately to believe it.

He’s still talking, but I can’t follow what he’s saying as my thoughts pile up on top of one another, draining together like grains of sand.

He tosses a few more things into the bags and zips them up before hoisting them on his shoulders. How is he planning to carry all that and me? His movements are stiff and jerky as he approaches. That’s when I realize he’s bleeding.

A bloom of red spreads across his white shirt, revealed by his open jacket.

I make a strangled sound in my throat. What happened?