Never.
*
When Claire opened her eyes, she found Marcus sitting next to her bed.
She bolted upright, furious that she let herself fall asleep when she should have been preparing—
The world took a slow, nauseous dip. Marcus caught her when she tilted sideways, eased her back to the bed.
“You will be doing nothing but resting,” he said. “Not for the next few hours, at any rate.”
“And you’re what, my watchdog?” She flinched. Her throat felt like it had been scraped with sandpaper.
“So it would seem.”
Guilt swept through her at his low, pain-rough voice.
“Marcus, I owe you an—”
“No need.” He took her hand, careful of the cuts scoring her fingers, the scrapes on her palm. His still held the warmth of a recent healing. A fading bruise darkened one side of his nose, but she couldn’t see any other damage. “It was a quick and dirty way to protect me and put me out of action at the same time. Do it again,” he smiled at her, cold and feral, “and you will not have the chance to offer an apology.”
“So noted. What time is it? Where’s Annie?”
He helped her sit, plumping the pillows before he settled her against the headboard. Just that simple move left her lightheaded and breathless. “It is just after five pm. I asked Eric to call her, propose a distraction. And after promising to offer up my soul if something happens to you, she let me stay while she went to help Eric pack. I want the truth, and I knew you would not give it to me with Annie here.”
Swallowing, Claire finally said the words out loud.
“Natasha has been taken over by a demon.”
His grip on her fingers tightened, painfully. “Are you certain?”
“Oh, yes. Believe me, I wish I was wrong. Worse, it’s a greater demon, trying to buy its way into a higher rank—”
“Who does it serve?” Marcus grabbed her shoulders and yanked her forward. She let out a gasp when his fingers dug into still aching muscles. “Claire—who does it call master?”
“I don’t know—I wish I did, Marcus, but I was too busy trying to stay alive to probe for that information.”
He let her go. “Forgive me. You have been through an ordeal, and here I am interrogating you like a heartless fool.”
“An ordeal.” She shook her head, sagged against the pillows. “Aren’t you the master of understatement.” One hand inched across the mattress, touched his wrist. “We need to keep Annie safe. Natasha will go after people I care about first.” She rubbed her forehead, felt another headache starting behind her eyes. “We should include Eric in that, since I pulled him out from under her influence. My guess is she will thoroughly enjoy being ridden by a demon. It means she no longer has to worry about a conscience. Not that she had one to begin with, but now she has the perfect excuse.”
Marcus took her hand.
“Then we will keep each other close, until this is over.”
*
Annie stood up and stretched her back, then brushed various animal hairs off her shirt, the front of her jeans. “You really are lousy at packing.”
Eric smiled—the closest she’d seen to a real smile since meeting him. “Never had to be. Kate always—” He cut himself off and turned to face the window.
“God—I’m such a dolt.” Annie moved to his side, took his clenched hand. “I know you don’t believe this now, but it gets better. Not easier, but better.”
Tears filmed his eyes when he looked down at her. “How—”
“Personal experience. I lost my parents two years ago—they were on their way back from Africa, of all places. They had just finished a whirlwind tour, and wanted to get home before—” She took a deep breath, the familiar ache weighing on her heart. “They wanted to be here for my birthday. The big, legal twenty-one life changer. Mom thought I’d be traumatized. And I was—for an entirely different reason.” Tears stung her eyes.
“Annie—”
“It’s the reason Claire and I connected right away—she lost her parents when she was just a kid. Watched them drown when their car went into an icy river. She still won’t tell me how she managed to get herself out.” She took in a deep breath, the ache easing. “I didn’t tell you for sympathy. Just so you know—I’ve been there, and I got from there to here with a butt load of help from my friends. So don’t shut us out.” He blinked at her. “Yeah, friends. You’re stuck with us now, pal, so get used to it.”
Eric didn’t say anything—just pulled her into his arms and held on. Annie rubbed his back, whispered to him. When the first sob escaped, she led him to the sofa, eased him down, and let him grieve. He sure didn’t have the chance before now.