the
longer she sat there, stirring a can of cold beans while they hung back totally
relaxed, the less she worried.
At least they didn’t leer the way Nate used to. That helped
matters some. And when she started eating, it almost seemed like an unspoken
signal to them, saying everything was cool. Aiden dropped onto the mattress
opposite hers, ridiculously huge on the pink princess bed, and threw an arm
over his eyes as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Bryce moved to sit at
the foot of her bed with his back to both her and the window, fiddling with something
she couldn’t see. Neither he nor Aiden seemed overly concerned that they were
basically out in the open for all the Grays to scent.
Sinna finished half of the beans, and couldn’t fit another
spoonful into her stomach. It was the most food she’d eaten in one go in days.
With a satisfied sigh, she rested the can in her lap and licked the spoon
clean. “Umm,” she ventured when the silence had stretched to uncomfortable
lengths. “Where are we?”
“Sign said Modesto, if that means anything to you,” Aiden answered.
“What happened to the others I was with?”
“Most of them were still breathing when we left.”
She frowned. “Most of them?”
An ugly sneer crept into Aiden’s voice when he said, “The
knife guy kind of lost his head after he almost killed you.”
Sinna shuddered, spoon clattering against the can. Connor
was dead?
The sound brought Bryce’s head around, and he frowned at
her.
She swallowed and handed the can back to him. “Thank you.”
He looked inside it, scowled, and shoved it right back at
her.
“No, I’m full. Really. You should have it.”
“Take a break, then. You can eat more later.” Aiden hadn’t
moved since he lay down, and Sinna kept thinking he’d fallen asleep. But he was
still very much awake and alert. Something told her he’d never really let his
guard down. For all his laid-back attitude, she got the sense he was just as
dangerous as Bryce. Maybe more so. With him, she might never see a blow-up
coming.
She put the can onto the little yellow nightstand. Despite
her exhaustion, Sinna couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes. She’d never
slept this exposed before and didn’t relish the thought of starting now.
Aiden had grown quiet again, and Bryce hadn’t said a word
yet.
She sighed.
“Ask,” Aiden said.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Ask.”
“Okay… Where did you come from?”
“Montana,” he answered. “Before that, Ukraine.”
“How did you get to San Francisco? Were you looking for
survivors? How did you find us?”
“You called,” Bryce said. His voice was low and gruff,
rasping, as if his vocal chords were damaged, or he wasn’t used to talking.
“What do you mean, we called?” Had Nate somehow gotten word
out? The last radio had stopped working a decade ago.
“Not them.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “You.”
“What?”
Aiden sighed. “We’re not humanitarians.” The bed frame
groaned precariously as he turned onto his side, one massive arm under his
head, chains pooling around his neck. He faced her, his eyes closed as if he
were trying to sleep, yet he kept talking. “We were in the neighborhood looking
for something else. Bryce heard you howl.”
“Oh.” She remembered now. Her last act of defiance. She’d
been so sure she’d die, so angry that her life had been cut short, so hurt by
Connor’s betrayal—and Nate’s. He’d just stood there and let it happen.
She’d screamed, knowing the Grays were close enough to hear.
What did that make her?
“What will happen to the others?”
Aiden shrugged a shoulder. “They had about a gallon of your
blood to cloak themselves with, a fighting chance of getting out of the city.
After that, who knows?” He cracked open one eye to look at her. “Why do you
care?”
Half of what he said didn’t make any sense. Blood attracted Grays.
But then she remembered the way they’d sniffed
Jacquelyn Mitchard
S F Chapman
Nicole MacDonald
Trish Milburn
Mishka Shubaly
Marc Weidenbaum
Gaelen Foley
Gigi Aceves
Amy Woods
Michelle Sagara