Page 17
It wasn’t until that moment, when I looked directly at him, that I realized what it was that I liked so much about him. He had eyes just like my brother’s.
“Thank you,” I told him earnestly.
“Just go. Get him. Get out of here.”
Ezra was already a blur in the trees ahead of me. He had a far better sense of direction than I did, so I had to catch up with him.
I’d made great strides in grace lately, but at this speed, it became impossible to maintain. I slipped and stumbled over everything and hit my head on several branches. By the time I came to the small lake, I was covered in snow and pine needles.
Ezra stopped sharply, and I didn’t notice him until it was too late. I slid on the ice and slammed right into him, which was like running into a brick wall. Bouncing off his back, I fell to the ground. I crouched, preparing to stand up, but then I glimpsed something through Ezra’s legs and I froze.
His eyes were unmistakable, but they were even greener than I remembered. Peter stood a few feet in front of Ezra, looking mangy. His chestnut hair hung down to his shoulders, growing several inches in the last few weeks. Thick stubble covered his face, but wasn’t quite a beard. His clothes were filthy and ragged, and Peter had always prided himself on his appearance.
He still looked gorgeous, and somehow, I had expected that to fade. But it turned out that he was just plain stunning, and that had nothing to do with whether I was bonded with him or not.
I waited, expecting that intense pull at the sight of him. But nothing happened. Even when his eyes briefly met mine, I never had to remind myself to breathe. He no longer captivated me.
“You brought her?” Peter asked Ezra, but it wasn’t lined with that familiar disgust and contempt he tried to hold for me. Instead, he sounded nervous and concerned.
“She insisted on coming,” Ezra said.
An odd tension brewed between them. I had thought Ezra would just come up and say something like, “Alright, that’s enough Peter, let’s go home” but he barely said anything. He almost seemed afraid of Peter.
I stood up and brushed myself off. Hiding on the ground behind Ezra just didn’t feel right.
“She can’t fight them,” Peter said. When I came around Ezra, he avoided looking at me
“We’re not here to fight,” Ezra said.
“Did you come here to die then?” Peter looked pained and pale under the moonlight, and his words echoed off the trees around us. Somewhere, the owl hooted and took flight again, sending shivers down my spine.
“Peter,” Ezra tried to reason with him, but Peter wanted nothing to do with it.
“I can’t believe you did this. I’ve been staying here, going through all of this, so they would stay away from you. They’re going to kill you, Ezra! Do you understand that? They’re going to kill you and Alice and everyone!” Peter paced, and he’d started to unravel.
“No one is going to kill anyone,” Ezra’s impassive baritone overrode everything else.
“You don’t know what they’re like.” His pleas bordered on whining. “It’s been too long since you’ve seen them in action!”
“We have been here for days, searching all over the lycan territory, getting our scent on everything. We’ve already ruined your attempts at self-sacrifice. Let’s go back to the hotel, get you cleaned up, and figure a way out of this mess,” Ezra said.
Peter groaned, but more at Ezra’s stupidity than at the thought of going to the hotel with us. Running a hand through his dirty hair, he scanned the forest.
“We probably won’t even make it back to the car,” Peter said at length.
“The lycan are in Sweden. We have a few days to sort things out.” Ezra took a step back, gesturing to the way back.
“Come on,” I said, speaking to Peter for the first time since we had kissed, since I had been mortal. “Come back with us.”
Peter looked at me, eyeing me up the way that he had before. I wasn’t in love with him anymore, but something about it still made me blush, and I lowered my eyes.
Finally, he nodded, and with Ezra leading the way, he followed us to the Range Rover. In the long, silent walk back, I often felt Peter’s eyes on me, but I tried to ignore it.
- 8 -
Peter had gone without eating for a long time, and he gulped down four canisters of blood when we reached the hotel. That was enough to make even the strongest vampire woozy, and he lie down on Ezra’s bed and instantly fell asleep.
Ezra leaned on the dresser, watching Peter sleep, with a sublime look on his face, and I stood next to him
“So what’s the plan?” I whispered, looking up at Ezra.
“There isn’t much of one at the moment.”
In my hand, I had my phone, and I twirled it around. It contained fifteen text messages and two missed calls from Jack, along with seven messages from Milo. They wanted to know what was going on, but I had nothing to tell them.
“So…” I shifted my weight. “Peter’s gonna sleep and rest up, and then what? We’re gonna hide here? We’re gonna go home? We’re gonna fight?”
Ezra chewed the inside of his cheek and chose not to answer me. Peter stirred in the bed, moving his head against the pillow, and Ezra tensed up. He felt over protective, and I didn’t blame him. But his paranoia should’ve left him plotting escape plans instead of just gazing at Peter.
“We should just get some rest. We’ll come up with a plan tomorrow,” Ezra said at length.