Page 85 of Hallowed Bones

“Yeah, yeah, all right.” Reyes backs off easily, surprising me again with how quickly he follows Cameron’s orders despite the fact that Cameron is younger than he is and obviously not as dominating of a personality.

Reyes picks up the now-empty tray from the bed and gathers the glasses and drained water pitcher from the nightstand, stacking it all high before he heads for the door. He waves a hand over his shoulder as the knob turns and swings open before he gets there. There’s no one on the other side. My earlier assumption that he’d been using magic was right. My heart rate picks up speed again as Reyes leaves the room and the door shuts behind him, a phantom touch of magic lingering in the air like an electrical buzz.

CHAPTER 29HAVEN

I never thought I’d write to you again, not after our last letter. But I have no choice. My daughter—the child I spoke of—she’s mine, Michael. My blood. And I fear what this may mean.

The signs are unmistakable now. Both she and the others will start to feel the draw soon. Before that happens, she must understand the truth. I cannot guide her alone.

Please … will you and the others come?

—EXCERPT OF A LETTER FROM ALEXANDER WARDWELL TO MICHAEL GOODE

Cameron follows Reyes out after a few beats of silence. Just as quickly as he’d left, however, he returns with a familiar bag in hand. I point to it as he hovers at the end of the bed. “Is that mine?”

“It—uh, yes, it is,” he says.

“I didn’t pack anything to come here.” In fact, I still don’t quite remember how I got here.

Cameron sighs and sets the bag down. “Amelie let Reyes into your room, and when he found you as you were,” he admits, “he rushed you to Dr. Davies.”

I frown at the bag. “That still doesn’t explain—”

“Your roommate had to leave for the weekend, and you couldn’t be left alone,” he continues. “Amelie went back to grab a few of your things when it was clear that you weren’t going to wake up anytime soon.”

“Why wasn’t I kept in the infirmary?” I ask. “Or better yet, why didn’t they call an ambulance and send me to the hospital?”

Cameron shifts from one foot to the other, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s— Amelie is…” His gaze flicks to my face and away again as he blows out a breath. “You should really get dressed and come downstairs. When you’re in bed for as long as you’ve been, your legs get a bit weak when you first try to stand. You’re probably a bit better now after being awake for a bit longer.”

His lack of an answer is frustrating, but it also makes me curious. Why would Amelie open the door for them?

Slowly, I straighten my legs back to the floor. There was no tingling, no warning of the weakness they held when I’d first attempted this. Now, they ache as I force my feet flat to the plush, rug-covered floor, but when I rise, my legs don’t buckle. It’s a win.

Carefully, I make my way down the bed until I get to the bag and Cameron. “Thank you for taking care of me,” I say as I pause before him.

His lips part, and for a moment of time that hovers, stretching into several seconds, he doesn’t say anything. Something flares between us, too raw to be named. My heart races, but this time not from anger or frustration or fear. It’s something else entirely.

Cameron’s eyes shift lower, to my mouth, then back to my eyes. He doesn’t lean closer, doesn’t touch me—but the air between us tightens. A charged current full of unspoken things sits in the space left behind.

“You didn’t have to,” I say, compelling the words out. “You don’t owe me anything. We’re not exactly friends, and even if we were—I’m an adult. It’s no one else’s job but my own.” Hurtful as they were the first time I’d heard them from my aunt, they’re as true now as they were then.

I am an obligation to no one. Not anymore.

I don’t know why they chose to break into my dorm room or take me home with them, but they did, and I have to admit, it feels better knowing that someone was looking after me while I was vulnerable. It’s nice that I woke to a meal, to water, and didn’t have to crawl somewhere to get it all myself. I’d forgotten what it was like to have someone care for me, to not be so … alone.

My gaze moves upward, over the mixed fabric of his sweater and then to the collar of the cream-colored shirt peeking out. Then to his Adam’s apple and his jawline—the dark shadow of beard stubble there. I wonder if it would scrape against my skin if I rubbed my face against his, if we kissed. Almost as soon as that wayward thought intrudes into my mind, I inhale a sharp breath and take a step back, nearly stumbling in my haste.

Cameron’s hand shoots out, grabbing hold of my arm and keeping me on my feet. I look down at the slender but masculine fingers of his hand. Piano fingers—that’s what my mom would call them. They’re long and graceful with short-clipped nails at the end and a few ink stains that mar his otherwise clean skin.

“You should get dressed and come down,” Cameron says in a gruff voice that sounds lower than usual. “Ezra has returned, and he’s ready to start your training now that you’re awake.” He releases me just as quickly as he’d grabbed me. A strange sensation of being left bereft fills me as his words penetrate the lust-soaked fog that overwhelms my mind.

“Wait—Ezra is going to train me?” I lift my head as Cameron steps away from me, folding his hands behind his back as if he’s trying to keep himself from touching me again. That would be insane, though.

“He’s coven leader,” Cameron says as if that answers all my unspoken questions. Ezra’s made it clear that he’s uncomfortable with my very presence. Since saving me from the specter, he hasn’t once tried to speak to me again. Now he’ll be the one teaching me about magic?

“I thought he hated me,” I admit, blurting out the fear I’ve held within me for the last several weeks.

Cameron blinks and then sighs, glancing away from me and toward the door as if he’d rather be anywhere than here right now. “Ezra’s feelings are … complicated,” he says. “I can’t speak on his behalf, but what I can say is that it’s not about you and he doesn’t hate you.”