Storm and Fury (The Harbinger 1)

“You’re so...annoying.”

I glared back at him. “I hope I stained your clothes.”

His lips twitched as the cool eyes warmed. “Confident that’s been accomplished.”

“Perfect,” I muttered.

“Well, I can see she’s not at death’s door if she’s arguing. Bring her into the kitchen,” Matthew ordered. “Easier to clean up in there.”

Zayne followed Matthew down the hall, and I still... I was still staring up at him. And he was... He was still staring back down at me. I had no idea how he didn’t walk into a wall or anything.

“Where’s Misha?” Thierry demanded from somewhere behind Zayne.

Zayne blinked and his gaze shifted up.

“He’s...he’s busy,” I said.

“That’s unacceptable.” Thierry stormed ahead.

I finally dragged my gaze away from Zayne. “It’s not his fault—”

“He’s supposed to be with you,” Thierry roared, causing me to jerk. “He has one job.” He slashed his hand through the air. “One! That is all.”

Zayne’s arms tightened. “Maybe take it down a notch?”

The Duke’s head swiveled toward him. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t think yelling is helping Trinity right now.” Zayne held the Duke’s disbelieving stare, and I decided in that moment that he wasn’t as irritating as I’d formerly thought. “You have her flopping around like a dying fish.”

Okay. He was still freaking irritating.

Matthew was suddenly in my line of vision, shoving two chairs out of the way. “Zayne’s right, Thierry. There’s time for yelling later. Place her down here.”

“On the floor?” Zayne hesitated. “A bed or at least a couch would be more comfortable.”

“It would be, but I need her on the floor,” Matthew reasoned. “Now.”

“It’s okay. The floor is fine,” I said, my eyes glued to the medical bag on the chair.

For a moment I thought Zayne wasn’t going to listen, but then he was kneeling. He carefully placed me on what felt like a blanket. I expected him to back off at that point, but he didn’t. Surprise flickered through me as he stayed kneeling at my side.

“Okay. I’m going to try not to hurt you, Trin,” Matthew said, but I was back to staring at Zayne’s face again. “I just need to check out your arm and then...?”

“Her head,” Zayne answered for me, and then I was falling into those pale blue eyes. There were fathomless, and they...they suddenly reminded me of someone else’s eyes. I couldn’t quite grasp whose, but I realized I’d seen eyes like his before. Or it was blood loss making me think that. “Her head is bleeding and so is her nose.”

“Thank you.” Matthew’s fingers were gentle and quick, peeling away the ruined sleeve. “Oh, hon. This is going to need stitches.”

Zayne’s gaze lifted mine. “God. She’s been... She’s been clawed.” A muscle popped along his jaw as he looked up to where Thierry stood by my head. “Why would she have been clawed here?”

“Call Misha,” Thierry ordered to someone I couldn’t see. “Find out what in the Hell he’s so busy doing. I need someone to find Clay and make sure he’s still...here. And get a team out there, by the park, to clean up the blood now.”

“Clay?” Zayne demanded again, his gaze narrowing on mine. “Was he that Warden at the Pit giving you a hard time?”

I didn’t answer.

“If it was him, he’s no longer anyone’s concern,” Matthew commented quietly.

Zayne didn’t respond to that, because I think he knew what that meant. If it had been Clay, he was deader than dead. Matthew slipped his fingers under my head and felt around. I winced and squeezed my eyes shut as pain flared.

Thierry ordered, “And you. I need your clothes now.”

“What?” Zayne exclaimed.

“I really don’t want to repeat myself. I need the clothes off you now. They must be destroyed.”

Oh, wow. I opened my eyes, because if he was going to disrobe, I was going to be just like Peanut. No shame. If I died from blood loss, at least I’d die getting to look at whatever was underneath that shirt.

I was a horrible person.

“Why do my clothes need to be destroyed?” Zayne asked.

“Do as he said,” Nicolai interrupted, and wow, I’d forgotten he was here to witness all of this. “I’m sure he’ll provide you with something to wear and some answers.”

I didn’t think they were going to get the answers they sought.

“I don’t feel anything too concerning in your injuries, but I’m going to need to stitch this arm.” Matthew eased my head back down and reached for his bag. “I’m going to give you something that will knock you out, all right? You don’t need to be awake for this.”

“Okay.” I stared at Zayne, because I really didn’t want to see that needle. Not at all. “I don’t like needles.”

Zayne’s hands were resting on his knees and they were tinged in red—covered with my blood. “I don’t think most people do.”

I swallowed as Matthew’s fingers brushed over the center of my arm. “You seem like someone who likes needles.”

“Because I’m a pain in the ass?”

My laugh ended in a sharp gasp as the needle stung my arm. “You said it. Not me.”

One side of his lips kicked up. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah.” I blinked slowly, feeling the buzzing warmth travel up the back of my neck and splash over my skull. “Are you?”

The other side of those lips tipped. “Yeah.”

“That’s good, because if you pass out, you might fall on me,” I said. “And you look really heavy.”

“I am really heavy.” His gaze flicked to Matthew and then his gaze came back to mine and held it just as I’d started to look to see what Matthew was doing with that needle. “You want to hear something strange?”

I swallowed as I felt the warmth flood my chest. “Sure.”

Zayne leaned in, and when he spoke, his voice was so low. “I feel like...like we’ve met before,” he said, and I vaguely became aware of Matthew’s fingers stilling. “I felt that way the first time we spoke, but we haven’t. I would’ve remembered.”

My heart rate sluggishly picked up, because I... I’d felt that way, too. “Same,” I murmured. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he replied.

“Thierry,” Matthew said in a hushed whisper, but I didn’t hear what he said, if he said anything else. The last thing I saw was those pale blue eyes, and then I saw nothing at all.

11

When I opened my eyes again, Peanut’s transparent face was right above mine.

“I thought you were dead,” he said.

Gasping, I shrank back into bed, away from Peanut. “Oh my God, don’t ever do that again.”

His head tilted. “Do what?”

“That!” I shrieked. “Hover over me while I sleep.”

“I do it all the time.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

“Sorry. Forget I said that.” He drifted to the side, somewhere out of the line of my vision. “Glad you’re not dead.”

“Me, too.” Mouth and throat incredibly dry, I sat up and looked around. I was in my bedroom and the bedside lamp was on, casting a soft glow into the darkness. Above me, the stars on the ceiling were gleaming. “Do you really do that while I sleep?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

I thought about that. “No.”

He giggled.

Pushing the blanket down, I checked myself out. “How did I get into my pajamas?”

“Some lady cleaned you up and changed you. I think they set your clothes on fire or something. You were out cold.” Peanut floated to the center of the room. “I didn’t peek. I swear. I only peek at strangers.”

“That’s...that’s not any better.”

“Don’t judge me and my life and my choices.”

I stared at him and then I lay back down, feeling like there were no tendons between my bones and muscles. I knew the deep exhaustion had nothing to do with whatever meds Matthew’d shot me up with.

Speaking of meds... I pulled up the sleeve on my left arm. Three angry red marks stretched about four inches over my skin. The stitching was fine and neat, but that was... That was definitely going to scar.

A scar wasn’t a big deal.

What happened and why was a big deal. If it hadn’t been Clay, then it had... It had to be like what happened to my mother, and that meant I wasn’t safe here.

I wasn’t really safe anywhere.

If it had been Clay? I had no idea what that would mean. I’d defended myself, but Wardens were... Well, they were sometimes above what I believed was right and wrong.

Worse, I’d bled everywhere. If there were more Ravers nearby, or if that Upper Level demon was close, they’d turn into big, raging and ravenous bloodhounds. They’d scent that blood and come here.

Demons tended to get a wee bit...cannibalistic when they got ahold of someone like me. That was one of the reasons I was the last of my kind.

All of that was a big deal, so a scar was nothing.

I let go of my sleeve and dropped my hand to my stomach as what happened to me really sank in.

Everything was about to change.

“Someone’s coming,” Peanut said, and a second later, my door cracked open.

I rose onto my elbows, squinting. It was Thierry. “Trin?”

“I’m awake,” I croaked out.

The door opened the rest of the way, and I saw he wasn’t alone. Matthew followed, carrying what I hoped was a glass of water. I expected to see Misha right behind them, but Matthew closed the door.