Page 55 of Bad Blood Alpha

Chapter 22

Kira didn’t know what else to say to him. There was nothing she could say. She’d had nightmares for years after her family died. Blood and fire and death. They faded, over time, but they never went away completely.

She couldn’t take away the nightmares.

But the tired, defeated look in his eyes scared her. This wasn’t Flynn. Flynn was a warrior. And whatever he thought, he was unbroken.

Undefeated.

They sat there for a while longer. Finally Kira said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Markus before. I just didn’t know how.”

He gazed into space, his eyes far away. Finally, he nodded. “I’m sorry I blamed you. It wasn’t your fault.”

Tentatively, she moved her hand, resting it on his thigh. He didn’t pull away.

After another long silence, he said, “The message never mattered, did it? I ran myself almost to death for nothing. He knew I wouldn’t get there in time.”

He’d put it together, then. How he’d gotten to the battle too late, but Markus had gotten there in time to find Kira and spirit her away.

“He was trying to save you. He didn’t want you to die with all the rest.”

Flynn didn’t say anything.

“He really did love you, you know,” she said softly. “I think you might have been the only person he ever loved.”

Flynn just shook his head.

Kira’s heart ached for him. He shouldn’t be here. Not like this—sad and defeated, surrounded by the bones of his enemies.

She stood up. “Come on,” she said, extending her hand.

He shook his head. “You go. I’m not in the fucking mood to walk all the way back to the compound right now.”

“We’re not walking.”

She turned to the side and opened a portal in the air, its edges shimmering. “Come on, Lion. Bus is leaving.”

He shook his head again, but he climbed wearily to his feet. “I hope you know a fucking short cut.”

“I’m a princess of the House of Al-Maddeiri. I can walk through worlds in my sleep.”

That wasn’t an idle boast. In five minutes she’d moved them through the spirit world and they were stepping through another portal into Flynn’s bedroom.

He gave her a sideways glance. “I’m really going to have to get some wards set around this place, if any uppity draken can just walk in.”

She shook her head. “You like me, really. Everybody does, because I’m nicer than you.”

That got an almost-smile.

She led him into the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom. She liked it even better than the one downstairs, and she’d gotten pretty intimate with it in the last few days. It had a shower bigger than most people’s closets, and a skylight that showed the stars overhead.

She prodded Flynn inside and turned on the multiple jets, dousing him with soothing hot water from all sides. He needed to wash the stink of dirt and decay off him. Even more, he needed to wash away the memories.

She knew what that felt like.

While he showered, she went out to his office on the balcony overlooking the living area, opened the side cabinet and rooted through the bottles there. In the back was a truly stellar thirty-year-old bottle of whiskey, that she’d bet money came from Alexander Grant’s private stock. She took that back into the bedroom and put it on the bedside table, and checked the bathroom.

Flynn was leaning against the wall in the shower, eyes closed, letting the water pour down on him. He wasn’t even bothering to wash off the dirt.