Ana, though . . . Ana was never evil. She was just lost. And I’d killed her for it.
The first thing I heard was the sound of footsteps on the stairs. My eyes opened, but a murky haze had settled over me like a lead apron, pressing me into the floor. I was curled on my side, still drenched in blood, and now staring at Ana’s forehead. Her eyes were still open, but I had stopped looking at them. The haze encouraged me to keep my eyes higher, to just focus on the smooth brown oval of her forehead and keep it in my sight line. And I listened. Because the haze was my friend.
There was some more noise, but I was untouched. I ignored it with easy detachment, letting the haze keep me pinned and deaf. Then there was nothing else for a long time, and I ignored that too. Then there were more footsteps, and more noise. To my irritation, some of it was filtering through the haze.
“Holy shit. Is she . . .”
“Dead? No. I thought so too, but she’s breathing, and I don’t think any of that blood is hers. She’s in shock, I think, but then there’s the body. You’re her assistant, right? You can take care of the body?”
“I . . . I mean, yeah, but I’d like to stay with Scarlett.”
“I’ll stay with her.”
“But in the room, right?”
“Yeah. I have to . . . eat. Tonight. But I can wait until you get back from wherever.”
“Okay.”
Ana’s forehead disappeared suddenly, dragged out of my view. I could feel a vampire in my radius, but now it was quiet again, so I didn’t care. I preferred the quiet. I unfocused my brain, staying curled under the haze. Some more time passed, and then I grew annoyed because there were more fucking footsteps.
“Scarlett? Scarlett!”
“Oh, yeah, saying her name. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Not helping, Molly.”
A pause. Then—“You’re right. Sorry.”
Suddenly, there was warm breath on the back of my neck, and I felt hands underneath me, a little awkward, but so careful. Eli picked me up very gently, cuddling me into his chest like you’d hold a small child or a broken doll. His T-shirt was soft and smelled like ocean air and hamburger grease. The blood had dried tackily on my father’s jersey, and crusts of it broke apart in protest as we moved. I didn’t care, personally. It made no difference to me where I was.
Then warm liquid exploded against my face, and for just a moment I thought it was more blood, and I almost screamed. But no, he had carried me into the big shower/tub stall in Molly’s bathroom. The shock began to wash away, down the drain with the tacky blood. Eli put my legs down and helped me stand, balancing me against his chest so I could keep most of my weight off my bad leg. I sputtered in the water, gasping for air with panicked breaths, my fingers knotting into his shirt. He made comforting shushing sounds. “You’re okay,” he murmured over the sound of the spray. “You’re going to be okay.”
My haze had washed away too, and I screamed, a raw howl that may have started out as a word but I couldn’t tell you which one. “I can’t, I can’t,” I sobbed into Eli’s chest, smearing tears into his shirt. “It’s all over me, I can’t.”
“I’ve gotta . . . I’m going to go get something to eat,” said Molly, from the doorway. Her voice was shaking, but I didn’t think it was from the blood. It was from the sight of me.
Eli didn’t bother even looking at her as she left. He shushed me again, a sound of comfort, and gently pulled my bloody shirt over my head, then bent to pull my underwear down. The blood had soaked through everything, and I yelped when I saw how it had stained my skin underneath. Eli picked up a bar of soap, my plain everyday Dove bar, and helped me wash it off. Naked, crying, I went up on tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck so I could bury my face in his neck. “I can’t, I can’t . . .”
“Scarlett,” he whispered in my ear, smoothing my hair. “Come back, come back to me.”
We stood like that for a long time, with him murmuring my name. Eventually, he planted gentle kisses on the rim of my ear, distracting me. When he reached my earlobe he kissed his way down my neck, my skin calling for my attention wherever he touched it. Slowly, giving me every chance to pull away, he slid his hands under my butt so my legs could wrap around his waist, which they did before I’d had a chance to even consider doing it. He kept one warm hand cupped gently under my swollen knee, making sure it didn’t dangle. My hands began pulling up his shirt.
This was how it always was with Eli, natural and explosive at the same time. There was such comfort in my body’s reaction to his, something so familiar, so safe. His mouth found mine, and I was home.
Chapter 34
I opened my eyes and registered pain. The pills had worn off, and my leg ached terribly. My back hurt where it had hit the floor when Ana tackled me, and my neck hurt where she had tried to strangle me. It all hurt, and reminded me that I was getting my ass kicked, just like Noring had said.
But that wasn’t what had woken me. There had been a sound. What had it been?
Knocking.
Someone pounded on the door again, and I sat up. I was naked, and in a tangle of slightly damp sheets on my bed. There was enough light filtering through the window for me to make out a Post-it note on the pillow next to me. It said simply, You have no breakfast foods. Back soon with Coffee Bean. -E.
Eli.
Anastasia.
I remembered all of it. And as someone knocked on the door for a third time, I pushed it all away.