Page 83 of Hallowed Bones

By the time the plate before me is cleared and I’ve drained at least two glasses of water—refilled, of course, by Cameron—I feel marginally more human than before. The beast is sated, and I slump against the plump cushions, eyeing the two men that stare back at me.

“So,” I begin, looking at Cameron. “You said it’s Tuesday?”

He nods. “You missed last Friday’s classes as well as Monday’s and today’s,” he tells me.

Five days. I was sick for five whole days, and I don’t recall any of it. My attention shifts from Cameron to Reyes. “What am I doing here?” I ask.

Reyes’s emerald-green eyes peer back at me, surrounded by those dark lashes of his. It really isn’t fair how fucking pretty he is—even with the cuts and scars that scatter across the bridge of his nose and peek out from the collar of the soft gray Henley he’s wearing. They both are, I acknowledge silently. Where Reyes is more muscled and broader with a bad-boy air about him thanks to those scars of his, Cameron is the quiet, sophisticated kind of attractive. Both affect my libido in ways they shouldn’t.

“You said you were attacked,” Cameron states, drawing Reyes’s attention before he can answer my question. “Did it happen after your date with Lyall?”

Surprise keeps me from responding right away. They know about that? Did Lyall tell them? Realization is fast and sharp. Of course he did. They seem to tell each other everything.

In a war of judgment and prejudice, it’s them against Salem, against the world, even—unshakable, unbreakable. What must it feel like? To have that kind of fierce loyalty. I used to know. Before everything fell apart. Before my life burned to ash. Now, all I can do is watch and wonder … is there a chance I’ll have it again? With them? Do I want to?

“Uh, yes, later that night,” I admit, turning my head slightly as heat begins to blossom in my cheeks. I’m not embarrassed by the fact that they know I went on a date with one of their friends. I’m just … feverish still. Yeah, I must be.

“Can you describe the monster that attacked you?” Cameron asks. “And how you got away?”

“Did you use magic?” Reyes asks.

“I don’t think so,” I tell them, but I do give them a brief description of the creature I recall. It’s fuzzy in my memory, but the emotions attached to the memory aren’t. Dread and fear remain crystal clear in my head as if it’d just happened.

Glancing down, I recall the scratches I’d received. I reach for the sleeve of my white T-shirt and push it up. The skin that had been marked, the cuts that had been left behind, are gone now. There’s no bruising, no hint that I’d been hurt at all.

“What the hell?” I mutter, running my fingers down my bicep before turning to look at the other. It’s the same.

“We healed those,” Reyes tells me. “The cuts were infected with darkrot.”

“Darkrot?” I lift my gaze back to his. “What’s that?”

Reyes’s expression is shuttered now. He leans forward, shoving the sleeves of his Henley up to his elbows and revealing the array of flexing muscles beneath the skin of his forearms. I swallow around the sudden lump in my throat that forms at the sight of his veins standing out as if begging for my attention.

“Darkrot is a type of poison that affects only those with magic in their blood,” Cameron says quietly, answering the question when Reyes won’t. Despite that, I keep my eyes trained on Reyes. “If you were attacked, it would explain how you got those cuts and why you were so sick.”

“Okay…” I hedge, pulling my gaze from Reyes to find Cameron’s. “So I’m healed now? I’m all better?”

“Yes,” he says slowly, that pucker still digging into the skin between his brows.

I sigh. “But?”

“But without knowing what attacked you, we don’t feel comfortable sending you back to campus. It waited until you were alone—”

I snort, cutting him off. “I’ve been attacked before you,” I remind them. “You can’t prove that it waited until—”

“Has anything attacked you since Ezra first sent that specter away?” Reyes demands, gaze sharpening and hardening. He leans forward, elbows propped on his knees as he glares at me. Is he annoyed?

“Well, no, but they don’t attack every single day,” I remind them. “There’s no rhyme or reason for when they come.”

“That’s not true,” Cameron corrects me with that quiet but firm voice of his. “There’s always a reason. These creatures are from the Veil, and they exist where neither the dead nor the living remain for long. They have to be coming after you for a reason.”

“It’s because she’s an untrained witch,” Reyes states, glancing sharply at Cameron. “She needs to stay here with us and learn to get her powers under control.”

“Are you saying this is my fault?” I cross my arms. My skin feels sticky from sweat, and a chill dances over the nape of my neck. Still, I shove my shoulders back and meet his glare with one of my own.

Reyes’s jaw clamps tight, a muscle ticking along the edge. “If you would stop running from us and let us bring you into the coven, you wouldn’t have to worry about these creatures,” he replies just as testily.

“I didn’t even know about my powers until you guys told me,” I snap. “I had no clue about any of this!” Unlocking my arms, I wave a hand around the room in evidence.