Thornhill

Money.”

Kyle paused. “So maybe she’s working with someone?”

“Or found out what someone else was doing and stole it.” Industrial espionage. That was a thing, wasn’t it? I scrubbed a hand over my face. In a way, it didn’t matter. We were trapped; even if we knew exactly what was going on at Thornhill, there wasn’t anything we could do to stop it. Our only hope was that Eve had made it to the truck, that she had gotten out of the camp and would somehow be able to stage a rescue.

I considered telling Kyle about the charm and the deal my father had made, but instead I asked the same question I had asked seventeen times before. “What do you think’s happening to them?”

Kyle didn’t say anything; I knew he didn’t have an answer any more than I did, but I couldn’t stop asking. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Serena attack Jason. I saw her face as Kyle pulled her away. Feral. Wild. Not a trace of my friend inside.

And it was my fault.

Shivering, I pushed myself up onto an old wooden dresser and scooted back until my shoulder blades rested against the wall. “Kyle?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.” I dropped my gaze to my knees because that was easier than looking at him. “This is my fault. All of it.”

“Don’t be stupid.” He started pacing again. He was like one of those animals you saw at the zoo—the ones that walked the length of their cage until they collapsed.

“I’m not being stupid.” All of this had happened because I had tried so hard to hold on, because I hadn’t let go when Kyle had wanted me to. “If I hadn’t followed you to Denver . . .”

“The raid would still have happened. It didn’t have anything to do with you.”

“But you might have gotten away. And Jason and Serena wouldn’t have been there. They . . .” A lump rose in my throat and I couldn’t finish the sentence.

Kyle crossed the room. He placed his hands flat on the dresser, one on either side of me, close enough that his thumbs grazed my legs. “Mac. Look at me.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t.

“Mac.”

I forced myself to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark and earnest without a hint of the blame I knew I deserved.

“All of us made choices. Including Jason and Serena.”

“But they made them because of me. Jason came to Denver to help me find you, and Serena came because I called her.”

“Serena wanted an adventure, and Jason . . .” Kyle pulled in a deep breath. “Jason’s in love with you.” He reached up and brushed the hair back from my face. “Neither of them had entirely selfless motives. You can keep blaming yourself, but it’s a waste of time and energy.”

I shook my head. “You sound like my father.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Gee, thanks.”

“I just meant you sound practical,” I elaborated. “Hank has a lot of flaws but he’s always been very good at practical. He used to say guilt was a useless emotion.” I slipped a finger under my wrist cuff and ran it along the charm. I hoped Eve had acquired that same practical edge. I hoped she had gone for the truck even if she realized we were trapped in the sanatorium. It was what Hank would have done.

Silence filled the room like the tide coming in.

“What do you think is going to happen to us?” I asked, when I couldn’t take the quiet any longer.

“I’m trying not to think about it, actually.” Kyle leaned forward. He didn’t tell me that everything would be all right or that things weren’t that bad. He didn’t lie.

I brushed my lips against his.

It was a soft kiss. Gentle and comforting.

After a moment, Kyle pulled back. “Promise you’ll tell them that you’re a reg.”

“Do you really think it matters now?” It couldn’t—not after I’d been caught sneaking into the sanatorium.

He frowned and ran his hands lightly over my legs, letting his palms come to rest on my knees. “Maybe not.”

I pressed my forehead to his. “Kyle?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really scared.” Saying the words made the fear seem more real, but it also eased some of the pressure in my chest.

In response, he kissed me again. Like before, the kiss started off gentle and comforting, but this time, it quickly plunged into something distracting and desperate.

I tried to bury everything in the kiss—all of my guilt and anger and fear—as Kyle’s hands slid up my back and knotted in my hair. I clung to him with every inch of every limb and kissed him like it was the last time I’d ever get the chance.

After a while, Kyle’s hands slid to my shoulders and he eased me away. “Mac, there’s something I have to tell you . . . about what happened in Denver. . . .” His voice held a jagged edge that had nothing to do with his being infected and everything to do with the fact that I had just spent the last several minutes trying to devour him.

He pulled in a calming breath as he searched for words.

“Is this something that’s going to upset me?”

“Maybe,” he admitted.

“We’re stuck in a dilapidated cell in an evil rehabilitation camp awaiting possible death, torture, or insanity. Maybe you could hold on to whatever you have to say until after we figure out if we’re going to survive?”

Despite the situation, a small smiled tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Okay.” He leaned in for another kiss, but suddenly stopped. His brow creased as he tilted his head to the side.

“What is it?”

“Guards, I think.”

Kyle tugged me off the dresser and then carried it over to the door as though it weighed nothing. He placed it underneath the window and then hopped up effortlessly. “It’s Dex,” he said as he peered out into the hall.

“What about Eve?” A knot formed in my chest as I scrambled up after him.

Kyle shook his head. The dresser wobbled under our combined weight and he reached for my arm to steady me. “Just Dex.”

I pressed my face to the dusty glass.

Dex stood between two guards, his back to us. He was shirtless and his skin was covered with dark patches. He hugged his chest—hugged it so tightly that his fingers dug into his sides and his shoulders shook. Bile rose in my throat as I realized the patches on his skin were dried blood.

“Dex?” Kyle’s voice was too low for the guards to hear, but loud enough for a werewolf.

Dex swayed slightly on his feet, but showed no sign of hearing.

One guard unlocked the cell across from us. As soon as the door swung open, the other pushed Dex inside. Dex stumbled forward and crashed to his knees.

Without a word, the guards pulled the door shut and left.

“Dex?” Kyle called, louder this time. There was no answer.

“What if he’s passed out?” I thought of internal injures and those stories you heard about people choking to death on their own vomit.

“He’ll be okay,” said Kyle, the words automatic and without strength behind them.

“What if Eve . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question. If Eve wasn’t with Dex, did that mean she had gotten away? Or did it mean something really bad had happened?

“Eve is probably laying low.” Kyle stepped off the dresser and landed lightly on the balls of his feet. “And Dex . . . Dex will be fine.” But he didn’t sound convinced and he avoided meeting my eyes.

I lowered myself to a crouch and then eased down to the floor. As I did, my fingers grazed a thin, brittle piece of paper glued to the side of the dresser. An inventory label. I peered at it, curious. It was yellow with age