Page 21 of Beneath My Skin

CHAPTER 6

I closed the door behind him and stared out at the frozen wasteland around us. “Oh God. Oh God.”

This wasn’t good. Gallons of fear pumped through me and I fought the urge to scream. To drop and let Cer take over me yet again. For the sheer release. I glanced down at the fading scars on my forearm. No new messages. No new commands.

“What the hell am I going to do?” Adrenaline vibrated through me, over me, an electric wind. I took a deep breath and let it build in the empty center of my brain. Terror gushed out of my pores and a metallic taste flooded my mouth.

Shaking to keep the blood from freezing in my hands, a sharp pain cut through my eyes and I could almost hear Jacqueline’s laugh. I didn’t care how she knew about my weakness, or why she used it against me, to push me away instead of bringing me closer, but I needed to focus. Focus on getting out of here and keeping the bleeding man in my front seat alive.

For half a second more, I stood with my eyes closed and the sharp wind biting my cheeks. My head hurt, but the feeling was returning to my hands. The fear was not beaten. It hung overhead like a large and precariously balanced boulder ready to come crashing down and crush me. But I had to at least try.

“Okay, I can do this. Cer, any advice would be appreciated. Watch over me, because if we crash, then we both die. I’m not sure that’s something you’re ready for, and I know I’m not.” I forced my feet to make their way to the driver’s side door. Forced my body to bend and slide down into the seat. Start the car. Back out of the parking lot despite the towering feet of snow in every direction.

“We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die,” I repeated under my breath.

Hopefully not, but I couldn’t stop the loop in my head. I tried to focus on the road instead of on my fear. Or on Dax and his sporadic inhales next to me. If I didn’t fight through this, wade through this, make it through this, then we were both in trouble. I tried to remember it wasn’t just about me anymore. I wasn’t the only one struggling with her chains.

If anything, he was worse off.

My face hardened as my resolve hardened. If it turned out to be the last thing I did, at least I’d go out swinging.

**

What seemed like hours later, I took Dax’s good arm and dragged him out of the car, propelling him through the snow and across the stretch of front yard to my door. In just a few minutes, I had turned from a scared and shy woman into a warrior princess. I needed a little time to process the change.

Entire body on high alert, I fished around for the keys in my pocket and felt like a juggler with a round of fireballs in the air. Keep him upright. Get the door open. Get us both inside.

I managed to stumble through the door of my house without losing my grip on Dax. Then I saw my reflection in the mirror and nearly lost my mind under a wave of terror. No, it was just me. A me I hardly recognized, with an expression of absolute seriousness.

“Come on, big guy,” I said, struggling for lightness. “Let’s get you to the dining table. I’ve got a first aid kit in the kitchen.”

Dax groaned, his body rigid, half in and half out of consciousness.

In the morning, I vowed, I would figure out a way to fix this for us. To clean up the mess I couldn’t help but feel was my fault. If I hadn’t gone to confront him at the antiques store, determined to collect my cash, then none of this would have happened.

But, a sly voice insisted from inside my head, Dax would still be a prisoner. You would still be on the radar.

True.

I set him down on a chair and let my hands flap in the air for lack of anything better to do.

He groaned, nearly slipping off the seat before I propped him upright. There was so much blood.

“Okay,” I said, more to myself than to him, standing to my full height. “First things first. We need to, um, get your shirt off. Yeah.”

He roused enough to send me a lecherous grin. “Trying to get my clothes off already?”

I did my best to ignore him. Settling down on my haunches in front of him, I carefully removed his outer shirt—the easy part—followed by his undershirt.

Dax hissed when I slipped it over his head. “Careful, woman. I’m in a fragile state.”

His skin separated and revealed the layer of muscle underneath. Blood continued to drip in a slow, steady stream from a hole the size of a silver dollar. The edges of the wound looked cauterized from whatever blast Jacqueline hit him with.

“I find it extremely difficult to believe you can’t heal yourself,” I murmured, trying not to puke. Definitely not good for patient morale to see the nurse blow chunks.

“Sorry. I can’t do it.” He grimaced. “She knows me too well. She knows my disadvantages. I can’t heal myself if my master is the one who hurt me. There goes that plan.”

“Perfect. Just perfect.” I rose to go to the sink and filled a kettle of water, setting it on the stove and turning the heat on high to get it boiling. Thinking how a cup of tea would be amazing right about now.

---