Witchy Sour(74)

Breath number two.

Thomas started toward me.

Angel’s Breath. I tried not to breathe, floundering as I reached through blackness to remember his words that night. Angel’s Breath allows for one wish… It hit me, Turin’s instructions and Ranger X’s voice all at once.

Fury turned Thomas’s face into an ugly mask as he lunged for me, his arm outstretched. As his fingers clasped my wrist he looked down, his eyes locking on my clenched palm as he swiped at my clothes and tore at my limbs. He let out a howl as he realized what was in my palm, but not before I closed my eyes, made a wish, and took my last breath.





Chapter 27



The sounds of The Forest played quietly in the back of my skull. Unlike the harsh screech and dizzying swirls of sounds that’d ushered in unconsciousness, the chirps of birds and rustle of leaves tinkled a soothing background track as I regained awareness.

My eyelids lay heavily closed, my breathing even. Though I was aware of my consciousness, I had no desire to open my eyes. A part of me thought I was dead. I hoped against hope that wasn’t true, but another part of me was too scared to check.

Instead, I focused on the feel of my chest rising and falling. I noticed the air exhaling between my lips and the pounding of my heart against my ribcage. As I lay still and focused on the sounds and movements around me, another noise joined the mix.

Snoring.

When I’d been alive, I had never snored. I wasn’t about to start now, especially if I was dead.

More likely, someone was in the room with me.

Opening my eyes, I saw white. Except this time, the white wasn’t an absence of darkness nor a flash of brilliance. It was just the ceiling.

I swept my gaze over the surroundings: I lay in a bed. A familiar bed, though it wasn’t mine. Logs lined the walls, the fresh, woodsy scent bringing me back to cabin days on the lake.

The bare kitchen to my right was unmistakable. My eyes dropped to the figure sprawled over an armchair in the corner of the room, a new addition since I’d last been hauled into Ranger X’s hut. Maybe someday I’d end up here for a reason other than trouble. One could dream.

I hardly noticed my own breath hitch as I took in Ranger X’s ragged appearance. He wore a suit fit for a wedding, which led me to believe he’d come straight from the office. The neckline was open, his tie swung loose over his shoulder. The dark, thick shock of hair on his head had been ruffled one too many times and stood up in boyish disarray.

Even in sleep, his expression gave off a concerned look, as if he were concentrating on something important that I could never understand. His chest rose and fell in regular motions, and I imagined it matched the strong beat of his heart, a beat I longed to hear again as I rested my head on his chest.

While analyzing Ranger X’s body, I hadn’t noticed his eyes open. He cleared his throat, and drew my attention away from where I’d been staring, at the open patch of shirt dipping just a bit too low to be professional.

My face warmed as I jerked my eyes off his chest and back to his face. I relaxed almost immediately under the soft glimmer of his expression, his dark eyes glistening with sleep. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I murmured. There was so much more to be said, but no good place to start.

Thankfully, Ranger X took over. Kicking his feet to the ground, he pulled himself into a standing position and crossed his arms over his chest. “How are you feeling?”

I raised a hand to my forehead. “I’m okay, I think. Very confused.”

Ranger X’s face went slack with surprise, and then he laughed. “I’d imagine so.”

“Why are you sleeping over there?” I offered a shy smile, patting the bed next to me. “I mean, we’ve already had a non-date. We might as well have a non-sleepover. You’ll crick your neck sleeping in the chair like that.”

“I didn’t want to leave, and I don’t make a habit of climbing into bed with unconscious ladies who prefer getting in trouble to asking for help.”

“Come here.” I patted the bed again. For some inexplicable reason, I wanted him close. I needed to touch someone solid. Feel something real. “Can you hold my hand?”

Two steps brought him across the room, his long legs carrying him with a grace I envied. Despite his mass, he moved without a trace of footsteps. With careful precision he seated himself on the bed next to me, cautious not to ruffle the mattress. He raised a tentative hand and combed it through the tips of my hair sprawled loosely across the pillow. “Is this better?”

I looked into his eyes, complex as multi-faceted diamonds, and I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Do you hurt anywhere?”

I shook my head quickly at his concerned gaze. “I’m fine. A little sore maybe.”