Page 62 of Vengeance of the Gods

“No. Nothing.” Vega’s shoulders sagged with defeat. “Not a single fucking thing. It’s like he took it with him when he died.”

Vega curled back up into Bridger’s side, stretching her legs and shimmying herself in for warmth.

“One thing at a time, Kitten. Let’s break your curse first. Then we can worry about how to deal with Marlena.” Bridger went back to stroking her hair.

“You’re serious about this?” she asked, and he didn’t need her to elaborate to know what she meant.

Bridger lifted her chin with his index finger, forcing her to look at him and not the car’s door. “I’ve gotten what I need out of Marlena.”

“And what is it you’ve gotten out of her?” she asked openly.

Bridger answered with returned bluntness. “An army.”

There were too many years of betrayal for her to trust him right away. They both knew that. Not even mind-blowing sex could undo the years between them.

Vega sat up again, as if she’d suddenly realized how long they’d been cuddling, and cleared her throat. “We should wash up, maybe grab some food from the vending machines.”

They untangled themselves fully and got dressed, then walked across the parking lot to use the bathroom, freshen up, and find some snacks to satisfy their hunger.

They spent what they had left in cash filling their arms with as much as they could afford, and when they returned to their car, they scarfed down all of it.

Bridger could have eaten the entire machine’s worth of food if given the chance. He was ready for a real meal again.

Vega found a blanket stashed under a seat, offering to share it with Bridger. He shook his head. “All yours.”

“Okay.” She draped it over her shoulders, wrapping herself up as she found a comfortable position to sleep.

She’d told Bridger at least three times she was only going to nap for a few hours and reminded him they didn’t know when Chase would pop back up again.

Bridger let her have the leg room, popping himself against the back corner like he’d done the last time he’d slept back here.

The car lights were off now, an even whir coming from the idle engine.

Bridger felt a pull in his brain, the sound of a siren trying to serenade him to sleep. He’d gotten a few hours here and there since crossing through the portal, but not enough to fight the call of exhaustion.

He didn’t have it in him to fight it.

With his arms crossed over his chest and his head leaned back to rest against the vehicle’s interior, Bridger sank to the depths of sleep.

It was quiet, a peaceful dark washing away his consciousness.

Not enough time passed for Bridger to enjoy the tranquility of an absent mind.

“Bridger.” Vega shook his leg, dragging him out of the deepest sleep he’d—Oh my gods.

His eyes shot open.

There were three quick taps against the back window closest to Vega. “Hello?” A man’s voice was muffled behind the closed door.

Bridger’s face must have looked as confused as he felt because Vega answered without him having to ask.

“A cop,” she whispered.

It wasn’t only confusion he was feeling, it was shock too. I slept… without a dream…

It hadn’t been long. He knew by the clock on the dash, but it didn’t matter how long he slept—ten minutes, an hour, fifteen—Bridger hadn’t gone a single sleep since the dreams started without one.

Vega’s finger rested on the button to roll the window down. “Act sleepy.” She pressed, sitting forward.