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“Maybe I like Sunshine.”
She groans. “Fine.”
Charlotte zips up the first aid kit and then gets to her feet, tucking it away in her massive backpack. She shuffles through it for a moment, her back to me, and I take the opportunity to get a better look at her. She’s taken her hair down—or maybe it just fell out of its pins—and it curls beautifully around her shoulders, a dark, spun gold color that reminds me of honey. She’s changed into new clothes, but I can still scent the acrid tinge of my own blood on her.
“Thank you for saving my life,” I say.
She doesn’t reply.
“I know you could have left me there,” I go on. “And I’m sorry I scared you. I shouldn’t have done that. But I’ve never actually wolfed out like that before.”
That catches her attention. She looks over her shoulder at me, her brow furrowing. “Really?”
“Nope.” I shake my head, sighing deeply. I’m starting to get tired, sleep tugging at my already exhausted mind and body. “But I didn’t want them to hurt you, so I guess I changed.”
“Just like a man to get all crazy and blame the woman.”
“You say that like you know a lot of men,” I tease.
Ireallydon’t think she knows a lot of men, even if she’s a little bit right.
Charlotte leans back against the table behind her, crossing her arms.
“Why are you so interested in me?” she asks. “I really…I’m not that interesting.”
I give her a wicked smile, swiping my hand over my stubble as I think about what response will put her on edge.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I guess it’s just that you don’t meet a girl every day who smellsquiteas good as you do.”
She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and looks down at the floor, her cheeks bright red. I chuckle at her stunned silence, then lean back in the old wooden rocking chair she’s placed me in, resting my head against the seat. “
Well, you should get some sleep,” I say. “And hey, Sunshine? Thanks for stitching me up.”
“You’re welcome,” she grumbles, chewing on her lip. “But hey—don’t get hurt again, okay? I only have limited supplies, and I don’t really feel like hauling a naked man through the woods for a second time.”
“Scout’s honor,” I say, putting my hand over my heart.
“I don’t know what that means,” she says shortly.
“Yeah, neither do I, just something my dad used to say,” I shrug. “It just means I promise. I will not force you to drag me naked through the woods again. It wasn’t my proudest moment anyway.”
“Okay,” she says. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”
And then we both curl up in opposite corners, trying to get as much sleep as we can.
CHAPTER SIX
?
CHARLOTTE
Elijah and I get up early the next morning to travel by foot through the woods and out onto the rolling plains. His wounds are healing up nicely, which I’m sure is partially a result of his Blessing. Gran and Pa aren’t Blessed, but it’s only because they were too old when the Angels started ramping up production—so Elijah is the first person I’ve ever met who’s been tampered with.
And that? Well, I don’t know how to feel about that.
The sun is dim outside the walls of the city, where the Celestial Curtain paints everything in pink and rose, the sky a dull shade of reddish grey. It gets more jarring as we break out of the edge of the woods and onto the fields of tall grasses, where people once kept farms and little towns dot the highway.
It’s sad to see things like this. Not just because it reminds me of the rundown suburb where I grew up, but because it reminds me that people had lives here before the Angels came.
