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Why the hell had he done that? Why had he bothered?
“We should move,” he said, his voice rough. His eyes were simply golden again, the darkness in them gone. “The Gollums won’t stop. They’ll keep coming.”
“Gollums?” I glanced back at the mine. “They...they knew who I was. They said the Deep One wants me...”
“They serve the God.” He limped over to where Marcus lay and dragged him up, throwing him over his shoulder again. The movement hurt him; I could see it on his face. “Gods are jealous. Gods are possessive. Just because It got your brother in your place doesn’t mean It won’t still want you. And the Gollums won’t stop now that they’re awake.” He looked at me, a frown deepening on his face. “Did you hear Its voice? Did It speak to you?”
A chill went up my back as I remembered the whispers...the tentacles curling up my legs. “I heard It. I saw It.”
He swore, turning for the trail. He didn’t say another word as we made our way back down the hillside and through the forest. When we reached the car, he put Marcus in the trunk, wrapped in the blankets we’d brought. Only when he was in the car, seated beside me, did he lean his head back for a moment and let out a heavy sigh.
“That fucking sucked.”
I giggled — then laughed. It wasn’t even funny, but I laughed because I couldn’t cry. I was exhausted, all the adrenaline drained out of me. I was grieving, I was horrified, I was confused. So I laughed because if I didn’t, I’d scream.
“Yeah, it really...it really did.” I shook my head, daring to glance over at him. “You smell awful.”
“Well,yeah, I’ve got corpse juice all over me!” He ripped off the rags that remained of his shirt, tossing it out the window as we began to drive. “Try having a heightened sense of smell around that shit.”
We kept the radio turned off, just driving with the hum of the engine and tapping of the rain. I leaned my head against the cold window, but what I wanted...what I really wanted...was to lay my head against his shoulder.
It was foolish. It was weak. I wouldn’t do it, but God, the desire for it ached. The gap between us across the seats felt a million miles wide, and it had been so long since I’d just...touched...someone.
Not for sex, not for pleasure. Just touch.
I stole a glance over at him, and his eyes met mine. He’d saved my life. He’d injured himself to save my life, and I couldn’t understand why.
“Did they hurt you?” he said.
“No. They didn’t.”Thanks to you, was what I should have said.I owe you my life.Thank you. You came back for me.
But I didn’t say it. I didn’t dare.
20
It took us a few hours to reach my cabin. The car couldn’t make it up the steeper portions of the road, so Zane carried Marcus, wrapped in blankets, behind me up the hillside. My feet felt like they were made of lead, every step dragging me down. I needed to stay awake. I needed to find just a little more strength.
“You can leave us here,” I said as we reached the cabin. “I’ll bury him.”
Zane frowned as he lay the body down, looking around at the tiny cabin. “Do you even have heat here?”
“There’s a stove. Why do you care?” I winced. Why did that come out? Harsh words fell off my tongue easier than anything else, tumbling forward without thought. Demon or not, he didn’t deserve it.
Fuck, the last thing I needed to be feeling was even more guilt.
“Please,” I said softly. “Just...just leave me here. I need to be alone.”
He kept looking around the yard, his expression far from pleased. “Fine. Call me when you’re ready.”
He moved fast enough to simply vanish. Not another word, not a single protest. I winced as I stared at the spot where he’d been, digging my nails into my palm. I hadn’t even said thank you. Was I supposed to? Was I obligated to? The only reason he’d bothered to save me was because of our bargain, it was because…
Because…
“Fuck.” I slammed my fist against the side of the house as I went back to get the old shovel. The head was rusted and the handle was full of splinters, but it would have to do. I had a few hours until nightfall, but the dark would move in quickly thanks to the cloud cover. I needed this done before sunset, so despite the pain in every muscle, I started digging.
There was an old log at the far side of the yard, a tree that had fallen years ago during a storm. Dad used to say he was going to cut it up for firewood, but it became one of my and Marcus’s favorite places to play when we were kids. It used to look huge to me, and in my memories, it still was. A monstrous, moss-covered tree that served as a home for a family of chipmunks and little bugs.
I used to have to climb up the side, imagining I was scaling Mt. Everest. I’d get to the top and reach down my hand to help Marcus up, because he was too little to climb it himself.
