Page 57 of Hallowed Bones

“It’s always too long,” Lyall replies, but releases her.

Anna’s face is creased with her smile. “Reyes was just going to introduce me to your friend. You said her name is Haven, yes?” Anna’s face tilts back to me. “An interesting name.”

“Yeah,” Lyall agrees. “But then again, Dad always said that Alexander was an odd duck.”

“Alexander?” Anna’s brow creases above her glasses in recognition.

“Yeah,” Lyall says. “This is his daughter—Haven Wardwell.”

Anna’s slender frame sways, and instinct kicks in. I lurch forward, ready to catch her—but I don’t need to. Reyes and Lyall are faster, each stepping in to steady her before she can fall.

“Oh dear…” Anna lifts a trembling hand to her forehead. “A Wardwell … a female?”

Lyall, ever unbothered, lights up like he’s been waiting for this moment. “Yup,” he says, popping the p from his lips as he sends a grin in my direction. “We can’t believe it either.”

A trickle of sweat slides down the back of my neck as Anna suddenly snaps her attention toward me. She leans in, and I feel the contact in spite of the barrier of her glasses—like she’s trying to look straight through skin and bone and into whatever’s buried underneath.

“I think I should go,” I say, shifting awkwardly to the side, trying to edge past the group still blocking the door.

The scrutiny. The weight of Anna’s surprise. It’s too much. I need space. Air. Distance.

“Come on, Anna. I’ll take you up to see Dimitri.” Reyes is already guiding Anna to the stairs, shooting a look Lyall’s way and then mine that I can read clearly.

It says, Don’t you dare let her run.

Well, too bad. That’s exactly what I’m doing. As soon as they clear the entryway, I move—fast, maybe too fast—but I don’t care. I need out. Need to breathe.

“Rabbit?” Lyall calls out as I reach for the door. I pull it open anyway. Autumn air slams into me, sharp and bracing. Leaves scatter across the porch as I descend the steps, pulse racing.

There’s no sign of Cameron or Ezra. Not sure what I expected. I doubt Ezra would have been up and ready to greet me this morning anyway. He didn’t seem exactly thrilled about me being here last night, even if he’s the one who brought me. I don’t know where I stand with him or if I stand anywhere at all.

“Rabbit—Haven! Wait up!” Lyall shouts after me, but I keep walking. His voice is drowned out by the tidal wave of confusing emotions that swamps me. Each step down the drive uncoils something tight in my chest. My body moves faster, like it’s trying to outrun something. I’m just not sure if it’s the house or the men that live in it.

Hard fingers graze my arm, gripping it and pulling me to a stop. “Whoa, hold on. One of us can drive you back. What’s the rush?”

I twist free, stumbling, nearly tripping over my own two feet. My head snaps up just as a flock of black birds lifts from the roof in a chaotic flurry, disappearing into the trees. I understand the instinct.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I just … I want to go back.”

Lyall frowns, studying me. “Okay. That’s fine. Just … wait here a sec, all right? I’ll grab my keys.”

I hesitate. But the fresh air is helping, grounding me. Was I really planning on walking all the way back to campus? I blow out a breath and look Lyall up and down. “Can I wait here?”

He nods. “Of course. Just give me two seconds,” he promises, then jogs back inside.

No Cameron. No Ezra. Reyes also doesn’t return. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed.

When Lyall comes back, flip-flops on and keys jangling, I exhale. He nods toward the side. “Garage is this way.”

I follow him around to a refurbished carriage house with three bay doors. Instead of a button, he bends and yanks the middle one open. Metal shrieks—and behind it sits a hulking black-and-chrome Hummer.

“Hop in,” he says, heading for the driver’s side.

The step bar helps, but I still have to half launch myself into the seat. Not exactly dainty. I grunt, stretch, curse, and finally slam the door shut. By the time I’m buckled in, Lyall’s got the engine roaring, radio playing classic ’90s. He drives us out, hops out, pulls the garage door shut, and climbs back in—all fluid grace and casual power.

More animal than man.

Because he’s not a man, I remind myself. Not fully.