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Another scream erupts from inside Kayla’s bedroom.
I yank open the door and barrel inside, gun raised and my eyes sweeping across the space.
Kayla is thrashing on the bed, her arms and legs tangled in the pale sheets.
Moving quickly, I scan her bedroom for signs of an attacker before I shoulder open the door to her bathroom and doing the same.
But everything is empty and quiet.
Confusion and terrible worry courses through me as I dart back into her bedroom.
“Kayla—” I begin.
Another cry rips from her lungs, and she throws her head from side to side.
My heart almost stops as I notice that her eyes are still closed.
They’re closed. Which means that she’s still asleep. There is no attacker. She’s… having a nightmare.
Both relief and even more worry pulse through me at the same time.
Setting the gun down on her dresser, I hurry over to the bed.
Whimpers spill from Kayla’s lips as she twists and tosses on the bed. Her long red hair has fallen across half of her face like a curtain, but I can still read the anguish on her features clear as day.
Pain spears through my heart.
Climbing onto the bed, I kneel next to her on the mattress and reach towards her shoulder. But then I pause, hesitation crashing over me. Fuck, how should I wake her? Am I even supposed to wake a person when this happens? Didn’t someone say that was dangerous? Or was that only for sleepwalking? Fuck, I don’t?—
Another cry rips from her throat.
And it damn near tears my soul out.
I can’t watch her suffer like this. I have to wake her.
Gripping her shoulders, I give her a firm shake. “Kayla.”
She thrashes in the sheets again.
“Kayla!” I snap, fear infusing my voice with unflinching command.
She snaps her eyes open, and her hands fly up towards mine and wrap around my wrists so hard that I’m pretty sure it’s going to leave bruises. But I don’t care. She can hurt me as much as she wants, as long as I never have to watch her suffer like this again.
“Victor,” she gasps, her eyes wild and darting all over the place. “Victor, don’t!”
Panic flashes through me, and I release her shoulders in a heartbeat. Oh God, did someone hurt her? Is that what the nightmare was about? Maybe I shouldn’t be touching her like this. Fuck, did I just make it worse by grabbing her like that?
Her own hands remain around my wrists, her fingers digging into my skin hard, as she sits upright. “Please, don’t. Victor?—”
“It’s not Victor,” I blurt out. “It’s Jace.”
Dread and panic whirl inside me like a storm as I kneel there on the mattress next to her. Because I have no idea what to do. Despite all of my training, I have no fucking clue how to help her. No clue what I should be doing to make this better. So all I can do is sit there and hold her gaze, trying to force a sense of calm that I don’t really feel into her body. I’ve never felt so useless in my entire life.
She blinks then. “Jace.” It’s barely more than a whisper.
“Yes. It’s Jace. I’m here.” I hold her frantic gaze. It takes all of my self-control to keep my voice steady. “I’m here, little demon.”
Her eyes dart around her darkened bedroom, as if finally taking in her surroundings. She blinks several times. And her hands remain wrapped hard around my wrists. Then her gaze returns to me.
