behind him.
The bedroom’s thick walls muffled any sounds from outside in the hall. I had no clue what was happening, but I took a deep breath and gathered myself. A locked door wouldn’t do much against a ’swang, but I locked it anyway. Then, after tucking the gun into the waistband of my jeans, I shouldered a tall, heavy dresser in front of the door, even though it blocked our only escape route. If anything managed to claw its way inside, we were screwed.
“I’m sorry.”
I turned toward Abigail, who sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her bloody hands. A look of comprehension replaced her normal dazed expression, and when her eyes met mine, for the first time I stared back at a person with real thoughts, real emotions. Not just hazy eyes and drunk giggles.
“What happened down there?”
“No, I mean I’m sorry for what I said earlier, to you. I shouldn’t have.”
She’d just been talking out of her head, and I doubted she even knew what she’d said. “It’s okay. You were just scared.”
“It’s just,” she bit her lip, looking decades younger, “you looked like . . . like someone I knew once. That’s all. Sometimes I just get confused.”
Heavy footsteps pounded past the door, making me flinch, but the noise carried past as fast as it’d come. With Luke’s gun back in my hand, I kept my body angled toward the door. “Do you know what happened to Sin? Did you see who opened the door?”
“I woke up in bed,” she said quietly. She picked at her soaked gown, her fingertips tacky with blood. “I was thirsty, so I went to get water from the kitchen. I saw his body right before you came down the hall. I think . . .” She wiped her hands together, her voice pitching higher. “I think I woke up with this blood already on me and I just didn’t notice. How did I not notice something like that? What’s wrong with me?”
Her eyes found mine, desperate and pleading, like she could pull an answer from me if she begged hard enough. She began to tremble and her teeth chattered so loudly I heard them plainly. With one last glance at the door, I said, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
She followed me to the en-suite bathroom, her skinny arms wrapping tightly around her middle. In that moment, she didn’t seem like Luke’s mother or Killian’s wife. Her fragility was obvious, her tendency to shatter plainly written in her delicate movements, the way her hands moved like feathers. Too precious to be in a place like this.
My thoughts snapped to Sunny and I prayed she was locked safely in her room. The urge to run to her overwhelmed me, but I would only put myself and Abigail at risk by leaving. Besides, I knew Hatter wouldn’t leave Sunny to fend for herself.
Inside the bathroom, I grabbed a small musty towel from the linen closet and wet it in the sink, where the pipes squeaked and rumbled. When I turned back to Abigail, she sat on the edge of the clawfoot tub, her eyes on the marble floors.
Not knowing what else to do, but knowing I would want nothing more than to have that blood off me, I crouched in front of her and started sloughing the blood off her hands and arms. I’d made three more trips to the sink to ring out the blood and re-wet the rag before she spoke. “You were a civilian, right? The one Luke found.”
I glanced up at her, instantly feeling wary. “That’s right.”
She patted the top of my hand with her now clean one. “It’s okay. I don’t share my husband’s beliefs about civilians. I think you’re very brave.” She paused, her eyes glazing over enough to make me think she’d gone back to her safe place deep inside her, but when she spoke again, it was with the same clarity as before. “I used to be brave like you. This life tends to take the good out of a person.”
Quietly, I walked back to the sink. Blood swirled into the drain and disappeared deep into the pipes. Still watching the pink-tinted water, I asked, “This life or your
The bedroom’s thick walls muffled any sounds from outside in the hall. I had no clue what was happening, but I took a deep breath and gathered myself. A locked door wouldn’t do much against a ’swang, but I locked it anyway. Then, after tucking the gun into the waistband of my jeans, I shouldered a tall, heavy dresser in front of the door, even though it blocked our only escape route. If anything managed to claw its way inside, we were screwed.
“I’m sorry.”
I turned toward Abigail, who sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her bloody hands. A look of comprehension replaced her normal dazed expression, and when her eyes met mine, for the first time I stared back at a person with real thoughts, real emotions. Not just hazy eyes and drunk giggles.
“What happened down there?”
“No, I mean I’m sorry for what I said earlier, to you. I shouldn’t have.”
She’d just been talking out of her head, and I doubted she even knew what she’d said. “It’s okay. You were just scared.”
“It’s just,” she bit her lip, looking decades younger, “you looked like . . . like someone I knew once. That’s all. Sometimes I just get confused.”
Heavy footsteps pounded past the door, making me flinch, but the noise carried past as fast as it’d come. With Luke’s gun back in my hand, I kept my body angled toward the door. “Do you know what happened to Sin? Did you see who opened the door?”
“I woke up in bed,” she said quietly. She picked at her soaked gown, her fingertips tacky with blood. “I was thirsty, so I went to get water from the kitchen. I saw his body right before you came down the hall. I think . . .” She wiped her hands together, her voice pitching higher. “I think I woke up with this blood already on me and I just didn’t notice. How did I not notice something like that? What’s wrong with me?”
Her eyes found mine, desperate and pleading, like she could pull an answer from me if she begged hard enough. She began to tremble and her teeth chattered so loudly I heard them plainly. With one last glance at the door, I said, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
She followed me to the en-suite bathroom, her skinny arms wrapping tightly around her middle. In that moment, she didn’t seem like Luke’s mother or Killian’s wife. Her fragility was obvious, her tendency to shatter plainly written in her delicate movements, the way her hands moved like feathers. Too precious to be in a place like this.
My thoughts snapped to Sunny and I prayed she was locked safely in her room. The urge to run to her overwhelmed me, but I would only put myself and Abigail at risk by leaving. Besides, I knew Hatter wouldn’t leave Sunny to fend for herself.
Inside the bathroom, I grabbed a small musty towel from the linen closet and wet it in the sink, where the pipes squeaked and rumbled. When I turned back to Abigail, she sat on the edge of the clawfoot tub, her eyes on the marble floors.
Not knowing what else to do, but knowing I would want nothing more than to have that blood off me, I crouched in front of her and started sloughing the blood off her hands and arms. I’d made three more trips to the sink to ring out the blood and re-wet the rag before she spoke. “You were a civilian, right? The one Luke found.”
I glanced up at her, instantly feeling wary. “That’s right.”
She patted the top of my hand with her now clean one. “It’s okay. I don’t share my husband’s beliefs about civilians. I think you’re very brave.” She paused, her eyes glazing over enough to make me think she’d gone back to her safe place deep inside her, but when she spoke again, it was with the same clarity as before. “I used to be brave like you. This life tends to take the good out of a person.”
Quietly, I walked back to the sink. Blood swirled into the drain and disappeared deep into the pipes. Still watching the pink-tinted water, I asked, “This life or your
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