Page 69 of Too Cursed To Kiss
I switched to drive and floored it. The car shot out of the brambles, screeching as branches scraped off paint. In that split second, the monstrous thing came at us, talons swinging, and one slash tearing through the seat belt and slicing Wald’s side open as I accelerated past it.
I clipped the back bumper of the second SUV but didn’t slow down. The force ripped the bumper completely off. Itwisted the wheel and grabbed Wald’s jacket to keep him from falling out of the car, not daring to look back or look at him. In a final spray of dirt, we landed onto the main road, and I tore up the ramp that led to the highway. My heart beating faster than the speedometer.
Breathing and swearing, I slowed down to legal speed and punched the dashboard screen. The flipping GPS map wanted to know if I was a passenger. “Of course I’m a goddamn passenger,” I screamed at it, letting go of Wald long enough to tap out,TwoandAlder, while trying to keep within a lane.
The map software found the address. I blew out a sigh and grabbed Wald’s jacket. This time I wasn’t stopping.
“Hang in there, darling. I’m trusting you to keep up your end of the deal and not fucking die on me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Two Alder was a gorgeous sprawling bungalow cantilevered over a cliff surrounded by trees and rocks. Not exactly the urban Seattle I’d been thinking. Isolated was a good description but a bad one for our current circumstance because I needed help.
Wald was barely conscious, and white as jasmine rice. Somehow, I managed to haul him to the front door, but he groaned repeatedly with the effort. That meant not dead, and anything better than not dead was fine by me.
On the porch, he slumped to the ground, pulling me down with him. His jacket and the shredded black fabric were wet with gore, which was way beyond my ability to deal with. I contemplated calling an ambulance. “Get me inside,” he croaked, tearing my heart out.
“This house better have a built in ER and a team of doctors,” I replied, trying the door.
“My fingers,” he said, raising his hand weakly. His face was shaded with hollows and shadow. I peeled his glove off and then helped him get his fingers onto the sensor pad. Hewas barely able to move his hand on his own. The door clicked open, but I didn’t have the strength to pick him up now that his eyes weren’t open.
I grabbed the strongest part of him that wasn’t flesh, his jacket. It took a ridiculous amount of time and effort, but I managed to haul him into the entrance hall by the collar, leaving a horror-show of a red trail over the threshold.
“What now?” I asked no one, collapsing on the floor beside him. Tears of despair poured down my cheeks. Exhausted, I buried my face in his chest, nuzzling into his feverish warmth. He stroked my hair. I had to hold it together because I was his only chance. I sat up and shifted his head into my lap. The house was a regular house with a coffee table, an expensive leather sofa, and a bar cart.
We needed help, not cocktails. I should have driven to a hospital. I pushed back his hair and pressed my lips against his clammy forehead. A tear landed on his nose.
He groaned, and his eyelids flickered.
“It’ll be okay, Tails,” he whispered, and I swiped at my wet cheek. “Call Britannia.” He coughed. The racking sound gutted me.
“Britannia? You’re kidding? You’re almost dead because of her.”
“265-0048. Number in phone.” Then his yellow eyes closed, and his body went limp. I pressed a hand to his neck. There was a pulse, but he’d passed out.
I set his head down carefully on the slate entry floor and got up, my over-stretched muscles groaning with every move. I scanned the room, babbling, “Phone, where do you keep phones?” The place was Scandinavian style with bare wood floors, leather, and wood furniture in shades of bleached gray and red-tinged browns. There wasn’t anything electronic inthe vicinity. Nothing on a flat surface that even hinted at electronics.
I stumbled into the kitchen. Sleek oak cabinets were on every wall. I couldn’t even find the fridge, no matter the phone. There was a pad on the wall like the one on the front door. I pressed the screen, and it lit up.
“Hello, guest of Wald. How may I assist you today?” The woman’s voice was throaty and with an accent not unlike Wald’s.
After a moment of shock, I blathered, “Call Britannia. I need to call Britannia.” I searched for a keypad.
“Certainly. You would like me to call Britannia. Dialing Britannia.”
The wall rang, or something did. It rang and rang, and Britannia’s voice answered in an annoyed snippy tone. “Well, hello there. This had better be good,” she said, and then it beeped for voicemail. I balled my fist. She’d almost tricked me.
“Hang up,” I said, feeling extra proud as the call ended. Then reality hit me. I was back to being alone with a dying Wald. My heart pounded as I pressed the phone book type icon on the screen. Britannia had two numbers, and the second was the number Wald had read out.
“Wald, what are you doing in Seattle?” Britannia was her usual annoying self.
“You need to come now. Wald is dying. Like might already be dead.”
“Harlan? No can do, I’m nowhere near you. If he’s dying, he’ll be more passed by the time I get there.”
“Passed?” It sounded like a nice word for dead, but I was not okay with anything in the dead category. “He cannot pass or die. You need to come and fix himright now.” I was entirely rational at this point. I dragged his sorry ass here, and he wasn’t getting to pass on during my watch.
“What’s wrong with him?”
