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“Pick her up,” Aern said. “We need to take her some place safe until—”
“No,” I said, opening my eyes as Logan lifted me from the floor. “No, I’m all right.”
Emily looked sick, her hands trembling as she reached up to brush the hair away from my face. “It’s close,” she said.
I nodded. “And Morgan. He’s turning more men.”
Aern cursed.
Logan stared down at me. “How long do we have?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “This isn’t … It’s shifting, every single time I make a decision, it’s wrong.”
“Not you,” Aern said. “Morgan.”
I closed my eyes for a long moment, seeing the face of my sister, broken and still, the fire coursing through the city, the lifeless bodies vanished in ash. “Yes. Morgan.”
“Then we’ll stop him,” Emily said. “Whatever it takes, we’ll stop him.”
I had worked with Emily as long as I could, but when exhaustion took over I’d fallen asleep on the couch, the muted conversation of the others and their tactics for securing the property seeping into my consciousness as I faded in and out. Morgan had walked right over them the last time, turning their guards with a look, and he was stronger now.
I woke on the soft white sheets of a bed in the suite Emily had said was mine, Logan sitting on a chair in front of me. “You’re tired,” I murmured, head buried in a too-soft pillow.
One side of his mouth came up in a smile and I reached over, wiggling my fingers for his hand. He took it and I pulled, sliding over to give him room beside me. “This is completely against Council policy,” he said in a low voice as he slipped his arms around me.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Who did you have this problem with before?”
He breathed a short laugh, squeezing me closer, and I tucked my head under his chin.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Late. I’m afraid you’ve slept all the way to bedtime, Brianna.”
I liked the way my name sounded in his quiet voice. I hugged him closer. “Good. I’m not ready to get up yet.”
A puff of air brushed the top of my head, and I smiled, pressing my cheek against his chest.
When I woke again, it was morning. Logan was lying on his back, hands laced behind his head, staring at the ceiling. My face had been buried into his side, leg sprawled over his, one arm trapped beneath me while the other rested on his chest. I had to push up to look at him.
He smiled.
I dropped my face back to his chest, smoothing a hand over my hair and straightening the hem of my shirt. He pulled a hand free to rub my back. “Stop. I like you all mussed up.” I scrunched my nose at him and he added, “It’s adorable, really.”
“Too far,” I told him. “I might have believed you otherwise.”
He rolled to his side so he could face me. “I told you I’d never lie.”
I bit down a smile. “You did.”
“And you,” he said, “why don’t you tell me what you did to me?” At my confused expression, he clarified, “I don’t have a scratch on me, Brianna. I feel great, after just a few hours of sleep.”
“Oh,” I answered sheepishly. “I know you said to save my strength, but I had to, Logan. I only did what I’ve done for the others, just enough to help you heal. To keep you safe.”
“This isn’t like the others,” he reasoned. His free hand came up to tug the collar of his shirt lower. “I had fifteen stitches across my chest yesterday. There isn’t a mark left.”
“You said you weren’t hurt,” I hissed.
“I believe I said I was ‘fine’.” He stared at me. “You’re avoiding the issue. I’m healing as fast as Aern.”
