The Return (Titan 1) - Page 35

A soft whimper came from behind me, echoing through my head a thousand times, louder than a gunshot or crack of thunder. For a second, a tiny moment in time, I was torn between the lure of losing myself, losing everything in the revenge, in the art of fucking payback, and the girl on the ground—the girl who needed me. With no time to spare, I snapped out of the haze of violence.

I launched forward, meeting the daimon halfway. Catching him around the neck with a hand, I held him off as my eyes locked with the soulless, black depths. “You are so very lucky.”

Then I shoved the dagger deep into its chest, yanking the blade out. I spun around before the bastard imploded into nothing.

Dropping down to the ground beside Josie, I placed the dagger within reach. I brushed her hair back from her cheek. Her face was too pale. The skin above her temple was bruising, turning red and swelling.

“What’s going on out here?”

I looked over my shoulder. An older man in slippers and a dark robe stood a few feet away, his watery eyes moving from me to Josie and coming up with gods knew what. I didn’t have time for this shit. “You didn’t see or hear any of this,” I gritted out, packing a powerful compulsion. “Just a dream. Go inside. Go back to sleep.”

The man didn’t blink. He was frozen for a second, and then he wheeled around and walked stiffly across the grass.

Heart pounding, I turned my attention back to her. Carefully moving more strands of hair out ofthe way, I got a good look at her neck. The tag wasn’t deep and blood had already stopped oozing out of the crescent-shaped bite mark. I checked her wrist. Same.

“Fuck,” I grunted, shifting so I could slide an arm under her. I lifted her up into a sitting position. Her head lolled back and I quickly adjusted her, cradling her against my chest. “Fucking mother fucker.”

She didn’t make another sound. Didn’t move.

“Come on. Open your eyes, Josie. Come on, baby, open your eyes.” I got an arm under her knees and lifted her as I stood, swiping up the dagger. My heart was still pounding. There was a weird dropping sensation in my gut. I carried her inside, my jaw aching from how hard I was grinding my teeth together. What had she been thinking going outside like that? If she were awake, I would’ve shaken some godsdamn sense into her.

But that wasn’t entirely fair.

Josie had been thrust into this world and she still had a lot of mortal traits in her. She probably hadn’t even thought once that going outside wouldn’t be safe.

I kicked the door shut as she finally stirred, moaning softly. I stopped. “Josie?”

Her features tightened, pinching as her lashes fluttered. Potent relief rushed through me as she slowly blinked her eyes open. Her gaze was a little unfocused, but her eyes were open.

“You with me?” I asked.

Her lips parted, and I saw the angry red cut on them then. Anger replaced that relief, tearing through me as an unsteady breath expelled from her. “I think…I think they bit me,” she croaked out.

“Yeah, you most definitely were chewed on,” I told her.

Her eyes shut, staying close long enough that I felt the punch of panic again, but they swept open again. “They…they were daimons, weren’t they?”

Nodding, I moved to the bathroom. “You think you can sit up?”

She cleared her throat, wincing. “Yeah. I can.” Her words were mushy.

“Good.” Carefully I set her down on the closed toilet, then placed the dagger on the edge of the sink. Her eyes were closed again and that worried me. The sweater was torn, slipping off her shoulder and revealing a lavender strap and the dainty lace covering one swell. My gaze flicked up to the bite mark as I inhaled deeply. There was something in the air, more than a metallic scent—something potent and alluring. Aether? Shit. I was loosing my mind. I couldn’t smell aether like daimons could. I could sense it, so maybe that was what I was picking up, and that made me cagey, because a yearning took root in my stomach, striking deep, making my mouth water.

Moving quickly, I tugged the sweater up. “How are you feeling?”

Her lashes lifted. “Like someone…bit me.”

“The tags aren’t deep,” I said, standing. “But you need water—fluids. Sit still.” I wasn’t sure if fluids would really help her, but I went into the room, drawing in several deep breaths as I opened up the small fridge under the TV. There was a bottle of Gatorade. Grabbing it, I went back to the bathroom, placing the bottle next to the sink.

Kneeling down, I grabbed for her arm. She flinched, recoiling, and I felt something acidic burning deep in my chest, replacing the empty craving. “Hey,” I murmured, dipping my head close to hers. “You’re okay. You’re safe, Josie. You’re all right.”

Holding my gaze, she exhaled softly. “Okay…”

I gently pushed the sleeve of her sweater up. “I’m guessing with your powers bound, it made you susceptible to their glamour—old magic that disguises them.” I reached up, grabbing a towel. I ran it under the tap. “Or maybe you’re wired like the pures. They can’t see through the glamour, either.”

She didn’t say anything as I handed over the bottle. “Drink this. It should help.”

Josie took the bottle. My attention was drawn to her fingers. The nails were dirty, broken. “I’ll be okay,” she said, taking a drink as I looked up at her from where I was crouched. Her hand shook the bottle but she didn’t drop it as she raised it to her lips again. “You know, I…I’ve never been seriously ill or injured before, even when I should’ve been.” Her gaze tracked over the room while I mopped up the blood on her arm. “Once…when I was younger, I climbed up this tree, all the way to the top.”

As I cleaned her arm, an image of a younger, smaller Josie took form. Probably all legs and arms with a headful of multicolored hair and probably loads of trouble.

“I fell out and I remembered being…in a lot of pain,” she continued as I tossed the towel and reached for a new one. “I thought I broke my leg. I was sure I broke my leg, but…by the time my grandparents got me to the hospital, I was just bruised. The doctors said I was lucky.”

It wasn’t luck. It was what she was. Dampening the other cloth, I stood, my eyes meeting hers. I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn’t have any words.

“I’ve bled all over you,” she whispered.

I looked down. She was right. Streaks of crimson slashed across my bare chest. A lead ball settled in my gut. “It’s okay.”

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout Titan
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