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Elijah sighed and nodded. “All questions I asked myself,” he reassured me. “Apparently, there’s a small resistance against the trafficking within the Verity ranks already. Mostly women, but there’s enough disquiet that someone had to take a stand. Everyone believed I was dead, but for this one being who was looking for potential descendants of mine.”
I was stung by the thought of Elijah having progeny running amok. He chuckled, patting my cheek affectionately before kissing my lips sweetly.
“There are no descendants, but the search did lead directly to me.” He paused. “It was obvious I didn’t have any memory of who I was. I suppose the hope was that the postcard would trigger my memory.”
I frowned, cocking my head to the side.
“So why didn’t they approach you when you came back into town?” I insisted, not understanding.
“The hope was that I would simply return and reclaim my territory, but I haven’t been working fast enough.”
No kidding,I thought grimly.
“If it hadn’t been for this encounter, Abby, Orson would have killed you. I came looking for you as soon as I realized you were in his crosshairs. I wish you’d been honest with me.”
“I thought I could handle things by myself,” I mewled, shamed by my own poor choices. “I’ve been handling things on my own for so long.”
His full mouth jutted into a partial pout, and I suddenly wanted to bite it. Despite all the tension and danger, he turned me on like no one else.
“I still think it’s best if we get out of town,” I added, but there was so much less conviction in me than there had been before.
His heart was set on ending Orson’s hold over the women of Pario City, and I couldn’t abide letting that happen if that was what was really going on.
“I was brought back here to set things right. It’s not just about you and me, Abby. We have to take this back from Orson. He’s out of control, and he’ll only get worse if we stand by and do nothing.”
I gnawed on the insides of my cheeks. Everything he said was right, and I still wanted to run and hide.
“He might be dead already,” I murmured, still perplexed by something.
A nagging tugged at the back of my mind elusively, but I couldn’t quite grasp what my subconscious was trying to relay.
“He’ll heal. That fae with him will help him heal faster,” Elijah growled.
“Etta,” I murmured.
Elijah looked surprised. “That was Etta?”
“Yes,” I sighed, turning my head to rub my temples.
An ache creeped up the back of my neck, the stress of the past weeks overwhelming me with exhaustion.
“I remember her,” he said. “I didn’t recognize her.”
I couldn’t see why he would. Before Orson had coupled with her, after Elijah had purportedly “died,” Etta had been a shadow, following on the fringes of our collective.
“You’re tired,” he announced, dropping the heaviness of the story.
Standing, he leaned down to scoop me up in his arms, and I didn’t protest as he laid my head against his chest.
“Don’t look at the mess,” he told me huskily. “Just rest, and when you wake up, this will all be gone.”
I did as he instructed, squeezing my eyes closed as we passed by the kitchen and dining room area, holding my breath to stave off the smell of lingering death.
I’m safe here,I promised myself, succumbing to my exhaustion as Elijah laid me on the bed, his strong hands sliding my sneakers off before tucking me tenderly beneath the blankets.
“Stay with me,” I managed to breathe before slipping off into a dreamless sleep, but I thought I heard him promise that he wasn’t going anywhere before darkness fell entirely around me.
Chapter40
