Chapter 14
KENNA
K enna couldn’t believe what was happening to her.
She’d . . . been kidnapped.
She’d taken one step away from her normal life, risking things to go out with Cliff, and look what it’d gotten her?
She was trapped in some serial killer van with a crazy man and a dog.
She put her hands to her face and tried to come to her senses.
There was no way this was happening—life could not be this unfair to her, twice!
But when she looked up next they were barreling out of Santa Cruz, as fast as the shitty van could go, and she was being taken farther and farther away from civilization.
She didn’t know if she should laugh, or cry, or just let herself go insane, because seriously, what the fuck was happening?
Then the man looked over at her. He’d called her the wrong name repeatedly—it was clear he thought she was someone else.
She’d seen all the shows, watched all the movies. She knew she was probably only a few hours away from being turned into a skin suit.
Which was ironic, considering the sorry state certain pieces of her skin were in.
They drove for an hour, during which she’d spent most of the time praying, before he pulled to the side of the road and turned toward her.
“Seris—it’s me. Tarian,” he said, touching his chest—and she could see a dark spot on his dress shirt inside the dim van. Then he waved his hand at her. “You may speak again.”
“Tarian?” she wondered with incredulity—and watched his expression soften. “I—I don’t care who the fuck you are. Take me home.”
“Seris,” he said, reaching out for her, and she full body flinched, trying to wedge herself between the seat and the door.
“I don’t want to die,” she whispered—not really even to him, but to any god or angel that might be listening.
That made him recoil. “I would never hurt you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
His jaw dropped in apparent disbelief. “I have dreamed of nothing but you for eight hundred years.”
She had no idea how to begin to respond. “You’re scaring me—and I want to go home.”
The dark spot on his chest was slowly growing. “You can’t go home. It’s not safe for you there.”
“But—I don’t feel safe here.” She licked her lips. If he could be crazy, so could she. “Somehow you—you—hypnotized me into believing I couldn’t speak until you told me to. And then you kidnapped me, and now I don’t know where we’re going.”
“I don’t know either,” he protested, running a hand through his hair—like his admission was supposed to make her feel better. “I promise I won’t do that to you again.”
“I’m still being kidnapped, so I’m not sure if I believe you.” Maybe...if she was nice to him. And got him on her side. He was huge, yes, and frightening—but he didn’t seem intrinsically murdery? Not that she’d met that many murderers before...
“If you don’t know where you’re going, why not just turn around?” she asked, aiming for harmless and helpless. She flashed an innocent-girl smile, adding a small shrug for effect.
His hands wrung the steering wheel. “You’re not hearing me. It’s not safe there!” he shouted—and the dog in her wheel well whined.
“Okay, well, then—maybe to a hospital?” She tried a different tactic. “Because I think you’re—you’re bleeding.”
She didn’t remember Cliff shooting him—but she also had no clue why Cliff might’ve even had a gun.
“I know,” he said, sounding deflated.
Kenna bit her lip. “Did I . . . hurt you?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, sounding mournful.
It took all of her remaining sanity and strength to bite back the word she wanted to respond with: Good.