Page 72 of Ghoul Me, Maybe
Kneeling above me, hair sticking to her cheeks, her eyes wide and glassy and sodesperately alive.
I try to sit up.
My arms shake.
My ribs howl.
Her hands grab mine, holding firm. “Don’t push it. You’ve got, like, five minutes of human under your belt. You’re still... rebooting.”
I collapse back, breathing hard.
Sweat beads on my forehead. My pulse is thunderous in my ears.
Pulse.
I have apulse.
I raise my hand to my chest. Press in.
Thud-thud.
Thud-thud.
“Oh, gods,” I whisper.
“I know,” she says, eyes shining. “You’realive.”
Mira and Lyle show up an hour later like the weirdest welcoming committee ever.
She’s covered in blood and ritual chalk. He’s got a busted backpack and wild eyes.
“Holy shit,” Lyle blurts when he sees me sitting up. “You’ve got a shadow.”
Mira kneels next to me, snapping her fingers in front of my face like she’s testing for possession. “Any vomiting black ichor? Glossed-over eyes? Unnatural hunger for the souls of sailors?”
“Only mildly irritated,” I mutter.
“Sounds about right,” she says.
Sienna’s sitting with her back to my shoulder. Every once in a while, I feel her reach behind just to touch my arm. Like she’s making sure I don’t disappear again.
“You’re not tethered to the wreck anymore,” Lyle says, running a scanner-stone over me.
“No,” I answer, my voice gravel and sand.
He looks at Sienna.
Then back at me.
“You’re tethered toher.”
I don’t even flinch.
Neither does she.
“Yeah,” I say. “I am.”
They build a fire as dusk creeps over the horizon.
