Bad Bloods: November Rain
Page 8
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I didn’t dream of utopia that night. I saw the blood camp. I felt the officer’s fingernails push into my scalp as he tried to drown me. I tasted the dirt in my mouth when they slammed my face against the ground. My mind went blank. I fought back only for them to knock me out.
When I woke up, he was still on top of me, and I scratched him across the face.
“Serena!” Robert’s voice. He was damp, but he smelled like a fire. Still, his fingers were cold against my forehead. “It’s me.” His palm moved to my cheek, and I felt him wipe my tears away. “It’s just me.”
It was dark, but his gaze caught the moonlight from the window. It was open, and the cold air blew across us. His bangs fluttered.
When I inhaled, my breath seethed down my throat. A gasp escaped me, “Robert.”
“Yeah.” He collapsed next to me. Somehow, I had fallen onto my bedroom floor, and Robert was there. He rolled onto his back and laid his forearm on his forehead. Sweat dripped down the side of his face as his chest moved up and down.
“You were screaming,” he finally managed.
Whatever had happened in my sleep, it had taken a while to wake me up.
“The cops—”
Robert flicked his hand, dismissing me. “Just breathe.”
He didn’t care about getting caught. Not yet.
I took another breath and realized my body was shaking. It died down to a vibration I couldn’t control. My heart was pumping, even though I wasn’t in the blood camp anymore. I had to tell myself I was home to believe it. I had to stare at it to feel it.
My bedroom ceiling was a gray mist in the night, but it was purple during the day I had slept through. I yearned to see the color again.
“Where’s Melody?” I asked, knowing the four-year-old slept in my room.
“With Catelyn and Steven.” Their room was next to mine. “She’s okay,” he said, but he didn’t say what I wanted to know until I stared at him. “You didn’t hurt her.”
My sigh felt like the first, real breath I had taken, but I only moved to get closer to Robert. He tensed when I touched him, but his chest sunk when I laid my ear against his ribs. When he didn’t move away, I closed my eyes. His heartbeat was as steady as it was when we slept beneath the bridge as children. His powers meant he was always warm, and his warmth was what I needed to survive those winter nights.
Back then, I curled up to him to prevent hypothermia, but tonight, my only comfort rested in my past. I had to go backward before I could go forward again. My past would allow me to sleep.
Robert rested his soothing hand on top of my head, and his fingertips brushed my hair out of my face. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered, but he didn’t sound like he was talking to me. “Just rest for now.”