Page 26 of Hallowed Bones

Dr. Davies returns before I can think of another less-than-stellar word to insult him with. She hands me a glass of water as well as a few pills and holds up a small bag with a couple of the same pills inside.

“I’ve put a few more in here for you to take back in case those don’t do the trick,” she explains. “Your nose doesn’t seem broken.”

“Thanks.” I toss the pills into my mouth, casting Reyes another nasty look as I gulp down the water. “So am I safe to assume that a little bloody nose isn’t going to kill me, then?”

The doctor chuckles. “No dying today,” she agrees, though she casts Reyes a soft look. I frown. “It’s kind of cute, though, to see a boy getting so bothered about a woman.”

I clamp my mouth shut and give her a tight smile instead of responding. I hand back the glass and stand.

“Come by if you need anything else,” Dr. Davies calls as I snatch my bag from Reyes’s hands and stomp toward the exit. “And, Reyes—” When Reyes stops and looks back, I keep walking. “Don’t forget about that interview with Salem Regional.”

Reyes nods. “Thanks, Doc.” His reply echoes out into the corridor, but I’m already halfway down the hall and hurrying to get away.

No such luck. “Haven! Wait up!”

Elodie had warned me to avoid the Sons of Salem and to be careful about getting involved with them.

“Haven!”

I was trying to be careful, damn it. Each stomp is harder than the last. It’s not my fault that they fall out of the sky and directly into my lap, is it?

A shadow appears at my side, and of course, it’s him. I groan and come to a stop, turning toward him. “I told you that I’m fine,” I say, waving to my face. “See, no blood anymore. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m good.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says. “I wanted to tell you something, though.”

Was I a terrible person in my past life? It’s not the first time I’ve contemplated the possibility. My parents’ deaths. Everything I’ve ever cared about disappearing into flames.

Is it really too much to just want normalcy? To want a chance to forget my past and build a new life?

Something warns me that letting this man any closer is a threat to that hope. Cameron too. Both of them do too much to my equilibrium as well as my libido. I can’t afford to risk Ipswich. If I ruin this place, I have nowhere else to go.

I hold up a hand before he opens his mouth again. “I’m not interested,” I tell him. “I’m sorry, but I just— Thank you for worrying about me. It was unnecessary.” I grit out the last three words before continuing in a more normal tone. “But I appreciate it. I’m fine. I don’t need your help, and I—” Really need to get the hell away from him.

His gaze pins me in place. Low, steady. Smoldering.

There’s a dangerous kind of stillness between us. I open my mouth to say something, but whatever is meant to come out is swallowed up, and nothing breaks free. I need to turn around and leave. Just walk away. But I can’t.

Reyes’s jaw clenches, a small tic forming along the side when I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. His shoulders grow rigid like he’s holding himself back. From what? I’m afraid I already know.

“Okay,” he finally says, taking a step back. “I just thought you should check out the campus greenhouse.”

I frown as he shifts backward another step. “There’s a display that the school keeps there,” he continues, eyes still locked on mine even as he half turns. “You should check it out sometime.”

And with that, he turns and walks away.

To say I’m surprised would be an understatement. A display in the greenhouse? Why would I want to see something like that?

Later that night, long after I’d gone to Amelie’s office in response to her letter and found it was little more than documentation and paperwork questions, Reyes’s words drift out to taunt me. Restlessness and curiosity drive me out of bed, out of my dorm room, and away from Elodie’s snores. I make my way to that very same greenhouse. When I see the display, set much farther in than I’d ever gone that first day, I realize why Reyes had mentioned it.

It’s not a display but a shrine of sorts. Old framed pictures, a gold chalice, a crown of twisted branches locked behind ivy-covered glass.

In the center photograph, one that looks as if it was taken at least twenty years ago, is a face I recognize.

Alexander Wardwell. My dad.

CHAPTER 10REYES

NINE YEARS OLD …