Blood Ties Bundle: Blood Ties Book One: The Turning / Blood Ties Book Two: Possession / Blood Ties Book Three: Ashes to Ashes / Blood Ties Book Four: All Souls' Night. Jennifer Armintrout
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“Can you walk?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
He lifted me into his arms and ran across the street, where Ziggy’s van waited.
Nathan unlocked the door and dumped me onto the passenger seat. He hopped into the driver’s side and started the engine, and I braced myself against the dashboard as he stomped on the gas.
I looked in the rearview and watched as we sped toward safety. Behind us, three black helicopters rose into the night air as the tiny, flickering lights of distant police cars approached.
“You’re going to be okay,” Nathan said hoarsely. “We’re gonna be fine.”
I took the assurance at face value, and since there was nothing left for me to do, I slumped against the seat and closed my eyes.
Nineteen
The Assassins
I woke beside Nathan in his bed. The last rays of sunlight were fading from the sky, and all around us the room glowed a rosy pink.
I sat up, careful not to disturb him or jostle my wounded arm. He’d taken the time to fashion a makeshift sling out of an old T-shirt before we’d both collapsed with exhaustion, but I still wasn’t healed. I might have been in a lot worse shape if Nathan hadn’t helped me.
His eyes were closed, his face smudged with dirt and sweat and blood. He still wore his black uniform, but the shirt had come untucked as he slept. His flat stomach was exposed, and I lay my hand there, taking comfort in the feeling of another body beside me.
“Please tell me you’re in the process of giving me the best wake-up call I’ve had in a long time,” he mumbled sleepily.
I smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It would have happened sooner or later.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, frowning at the boots he still wore. “You want some breakfast?”
“Maybe in a little while. I think I want to go back to sleep.”
He got to his feet. “We’ve a busy night ahead of us.”
I groaned and shuffled my feet as I followed him down the hall. My injured ankle caused me to limp pathetically. As we entered the bathroom, Nathan halted at the sight of two half-used bottles of blue and magenta hair dye.
The giddy relief I’d felt at escaping death had filled me so completely that I hadn’t had room for anything else. But this reminder of Ziggy created plenty of space for sorrow, anger and, above all, guilt.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I whispered. I wanted to touch Nathan, to comfort him. But as usual, he seemed untouchable.
With an unconcerned shrug I knew he didn’t mean, he pulled his shirt over his head. His body looked less tempting than usual, as though pain and exhaustion had sapped him of some of his perfection. Or perhaps my body wasn’t in any shape to fool around.
“We’ve got to meet with the assassins tonight. Cyrus is still out there.” Nathan turned on the shower and unfastened his belt as if I wasn’t there, as if he didn’t care I was. Debating whether it would be more awkward to stay or make a fuss about leaving, I pretended to look for something in the medicine cabinet. His belt buckle jingled as he kicked off his pants, and I waited to hear the rattle of the curtain rings before I allowed my gaze to roam anywhere else.
“So, are you okay?” I said as I closed the cabinet door.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because Zi—” I couldn’t say it. “Because of what happened last night.”
“People die.”
“Yeah, they do, but he was kind of your only family.”
“Let’s not talk about it right now. I’ve got other things to worry about.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled.
I left the bathroom without another word. The clothes Nathan had bought me were still at Cyrus’s. I swiped a pair of Nathan’s jeans and a sweater that required some maneuvering to put on over my injured arm.
I listened as the water cut off in the bathroom. Nathan came in to retrieve some clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist. He didn’t speak to me, but eyed my attire with an expression that would have been amusement had his eyes not looked so sad.
I’d never felt so in the way in my entire life. If not for the dim light outside, I would have just made some excuse to leave. As it was, I had to settle for a different part of the apartment.
The living room looked cold and alien. A pair of Ziggy’s shoes sat by the door. A stack of heavy metal CDs took up the corner of the coffee table, and a backpack full of college textbooks leaned against the couch. It was like a pharaoh’s tomb, a museum of my failure to protect him and of Nathan’s loss.
I went to the kitchen and pulled a bag of blood from the refrigerator. I was looking for something to cut the top of the bag with when Nathan’s hand gripped my arm.
I jumped, dropping the bag. He caught it and cradled it against his chest as if it were a priceless artifact.
“What?” I demanded, rubbing my offended arm.
“It’s the last one. I don’t want to drink it.” His voice was tight and he strained to get the words out.
My heart lurched at the full import of his statement. “Oh. Oh, God.” I stared, mesmerized by the shimmering liquid contained within the dull plastic. The millions of cells were the last physical evidence of Ziggy’s life on earth.
Nathan opened the freezer door and unceremoniously dumped the bag inside. “How about we talk about this?” I said without thinking, and I was glad. I might not have said it otherwise.
“How about you mind your own business?” Nathan didn’t exactly hide his face from me, but he didn’t look at me, either, as he went through the cupboards, taking out pans, bowls and pancake mix. “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
I planted my hands on my hips, cringing at the sting the motion caused. “It’s kinda tough to be a vegetarian vampire. Unless you’re Bunnicula.”
He actually laughed at that.
I arched an eyebrow. “You know Bunnicula?”
He grew serious again. “I read it to Ziggy when he was younger. Will you get the bacon out of the freezer?” He turned away from me in an effort to hide his suffering. I couldn’t believe that after all we’d been through together that he would continue to shut me out. I walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately jerked away from it.
Tears of anger sprang to my eyes. “You asshole.”
Nathan turned around, his expression dark. “Fine. I’ll make sausage instead.”
I clenched my good fist. “You know what I’m talking about.”
He opened the fridge and pulled out eggs and milk, pointedly turning the side of the carton labeled Z away from himself. “I do. And I told you before, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, I do!” I stamped my foot.
Nathan poured the milk and the pancake mix into the bowl without measuring, the way a mother would after years of preparing breakfast for her family. Except I’d never seen a mother with such a murderous scowl. Nathan suddenly threw down the wooden spoon in his hand. It bounced off the rim of the glass bowl and splattered half-mixed batter everywhere. “Just because I don’t want to stand here and have a Hallmark moment with you doesn’t mean I didn’t love Ziggy. I cared about him more than somebody like you could ever understand!”
“Somebody like me?” I hated the shrillness of my voice when I was mad. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He