Page 94 of Hunted

His upper lip curled as he flicked the cap of the needle off. It rolled away on the floor, forgotten and discarded—like I soon would be.

“Ready?” he snapped, flicking the hem of my shirt up whether I was or not. With absolutely no hesitation, Evander stuck the needle into the area my uterus used to occupy, then pressed the plunger down to its hilt.

As before, I collapsed immediately—this time overcome by profound fatigue rather than debilitating pain.

Before unconsciousness claimed me fully, three disembodied voices followed me into the dark.

“Dude, what the fuck did you do that for?”

“Evander, you better have a fucking good reason for that.”

A pause. Then, “They stole her. Changed her. She doesn’t look like Addie anymore and I hate it—more than I thought I would.”

“Okay, but don’t take it out on her!”

“You’re gonna have to get used to it. We don’t get to keep her for much longer.”

[ 34 ]

DEK

LØ SPIRIT – I WANT YOU

Van was right, though his delivery method could have used a little work. I actually couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen him react emotionally to anything—especially not inside the hornet’s nest—but one tiny blonde had seemingly unravelled him.

Addie lay passed out on my lap where she’d fallen, snoring softly while Nadine’s technology worked its magic. Beck left her to doze, tinkering away in the kitchen working his magic, and Van seethed silently on the couch beside us, almost at the bottom of his internal spiral, doing nothing particularly magical at all.

“You ready to talk?” I murmured, careful to keep my voice low and let Sleeping Deadly, well, sleep.

He didn’t respond for a full minute. I let him chew on his words, deciding which of them he wanted to spit out first.

And me? I was content to sit here all day, if need be. Utterly delighted to pass the time finger-combing the stiff, hairspray-laden waves out of her pretty blonde hair.

Smiling in your sleep,

A moment I can keep,

I’ll have to set you free–ee, yeah.

Talking in your dreams,

Blacked out soliloquy,

You’ve stolen one, two, three, yeah.

The lyrics exploded through my mind as I watched her chest move slowly up and down. Her breath rhythmically coaxed the loose tendrils around her face to dance in the air, sparkling in a shaft of sunlight beaming in from the window beside us, before falling back down to rest against her perfect skin.

A melody followed like an aftershock.

My fingers itched to write it all down, but I couldn’t risk waking her. The superstitious part of me felt like the little fragment of song would vanish like a whisper in the wind if her eyes so much as cracked open—and so I was stuck.

Rock, meet Hard Place.

“Psst. Van.”

He shot me a withering glare. “Did you just psst me?”

“Shh!” I hissed as Addie stirred. “And yes. I need you to write something down for me.”