Page 125 of Judas

“Rest assured, you’re not covered in anyone’s fluids. Besides, if you were, it’d be your own. Was your blood on your hands, not mine.”

“That’s reassuring.” Sarcasm lacing my tone.

“Sounding like your dad the more time I spend with you. Going to open those eyes today or keep blocking everyone out?”

“Make it sound like I’m intentional on keeping them shut.”

“Let me see them then.”

“Of course, I’ll just spring them open like they don’t weigh a million pounds.”

“Just give or take a gram, so let ‘em fly, Sunshine.”

Why I ought to swing on him for that smart assed comment but I’m trying to fight a smile instead.

“Go on, open up. I’ll have the nurse see about getting you something to eat other than a glucose drip. Too damn skinny as it is.”

“Sounds like my grandma on my mother’s side. Trying to shove pastries and chocolate down my throat to fatten me up. I think I have plenty of time to grow into this body.”

“You’re right.”

Whoever he is, he cups my face but not in a loving sort of way like I’ve seen in the movies I’ve watched. Besides he sounds entirely too old anyway. He handles me like he’s checking me over for more injuries. Tilting my head to the right, to the left, then back before he picks at the inner corners of my eyes—digging at the sleep the Sandman has left behind.

“Alright, you’ve been cleared. No ghosts or goblins present.”

During his assessment, my smile finally broke free so when he finished I had to roll my lips between my teeth so I could focus.

Be serious Sadie.

One pries open, the lashes seem like they’re tied in knots or the muscles are just so used to being relaxed that they’re protesting for being forced to work. A minute or so passes and both finally flutter open, foggy but clearing. And there he is, my guardian.

“Welcome back, Sunshine. How does the world look?”

“Looks like it needs a box of hair dye for all the grey.”

He laughs with his full chest, tapping my left cheek gently, allowing me to go next. For all his comfort, support, and stability, I still don’t really know who the hell he is. Briefglimpses of him in the apartment pop up in my head but that’s about it.

“What’s your name?” I ask, shifting on the bed a little. Lifting my arms up to stretch, my right shoulder popping with a low thud. It’s dark enough in here not to strain my eyes with the right amount of light where I can see details. Seeing his neck where he said I bruised him, fills me with guilt. That’s what I did to him, no, that’s what Kate did.

I’m not Kate, I am Sadie.

I am not Liz, I am Sadie.

I am NOT Naamah, I am Sadie.

“Elias, Elias Sullivan.” He answers.

Chapter forty-three

Babalon

“You’re in a hurry.”

Kace’s observational skills are impressive—not. Nursing a cup of coffee, he’s leaning against the kitchen counter between the sink and the fridge. Icy eyes zeroing in on me as they follow me with every foot of space I eat up. I’m not in the best outfit to go see my daughter in the hospital, but it will do. Jeans, a tank top like thing that has a braid down the center of the back instead of a strip of fabric, my jacket, and sneakers. I don’t guess I should be too concerned, it’s not like I’m going to church or a funeral.

With my keys in one hand, the god awful wallet in the other, I snag the door knob and pull on it. Imagine my surprise when the fucking thing doesn’t budge. Kace doesn’t say anything though I feel his eyes boring into my back, waiting for me to say something to him and his dumbass little quip.

Quickly my gaze darts across the door looking for a deadbolt or something but don’t find one other than this odd black boxthat has an out of place screw in the back of it. Pursing my lips, I stare at it trying to remember what the damn thing is for then it dawns on me. An electric deadbolt and the screw? Where the unlocking mechanism is supposed to be attached.

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