Chapter Twenty
Her first day back after the ordeal, Stratos reverted to form, sterner and terser than ever.
Apparently his solicitous behavior the night of the attack had been a momentary lapse.
When he left for a late meeting, she decided she’d had enough of his attitude and called it quits.
Would they ever be able to put the kiss behind them?
It was one kiss. One devastating, hot, shattering kiss.
Upon exiting the complex, the vehicle that had picked her up that morning wasn’t there.
Well, she didn’t need a ride, anyway. She’d seen on the government site that the dorian had been caught and killed.
The sinking sun cast long menacing shadows over a street surprisingly vacant of pedestrians and vehicles. People should have been rushing home from work. Where is everybody?
As she neared the alley, her feet stalled out and terror clawed at her throat as memories of the attack swamped her.
It’s not there. It’s not there. There’s nothing in the alley. They caught the dorian.
There’s nothing to fear but fear itself.
But she could hardly breathe, and gray dots danced in front of her eyes.
I am stronger than this. She hated being afraid, hated fearing she’d wet her pants every time she walked to or from work. To conquer fear, you had to face it head-on. I have to go into the alley.
Forcing her feet to move, she crept into the narrow passage. Stood there for a moment and looked around. A vacant byway. Some trash, a discarded jacket, a few broken electronics, but vacant. She spotted the hair clip she’d lost and picked it up.
Nothing to see here. She exhaled a sigh of relief. More relaxed, she turned to leave.
And almost did a face plant as her suddenly burning leg refused to move. To her horror, a filmy tentacle had wrapped around her calf. No! It’s dead! It can’t be. Another band seared the other ankle and yanked her feet out from under her.
The hideous dorian loomed over her. One sightless yellow eye wept; the other glinted with menacing vengeance.
They said they caught it! Her throat seized with fear. “Help,” she whimpered, unable to force out a sound louder than a whisper. “Somebody, help!”
She flailed, swinging at the dorian, but it danced out of reach and covered her in a sticky gel, immobilizing her in a searing cocoon. Her entire body burned with excruciating pain. I’m going to die.
She let out a blood-curdling scream.
The creature scuttled up to her face and grinned a maw of razor teeth.
“Nooooo! Stratos! Help me, Stratos!”
* * * *
“Nooooo! Stratos! Help me, Stratos!”
Stratos jolted out of a dead sleep, bolted off the sofa, and vaulted into the bedroom. Morning light squeezed through slits in the window shades and spilled upon the bed where Savannah thrashed.
He shook her shoulder. “Savannah!”
She moaned and flailed, still in the grips of the nightmare. “Savannah!” He gave her a harder shake. “Wake up! Wake up!”
She jolted awake. Shuddering, she scrubbed at her arms. “Get it off me! Get it off!”
“You’re safe. It was a dream. You’re safe.”
She blinked and went still. “Stratos?”
“I’m here. You’re fine. You had a bad dream.”
“Oh, god. The creature grabbed me.”
He settled on the bed and pulled her close. “Just a dream.”
“What—what day is it?”
“Still Thursday morning. You just went to bed a few hours ago after the dorian attack.”
“In the nightmare, the vehicle wasn’t there when I left work, so I walked home.”
“The vehicle will always be there. I promise.”
“You were acting like a real jerk in the dream.”
“Was that the nightmare part?” he joked.
She gave a little laugh and then frowned. “How—why are you here? I thought you went home.”
The urge to watch over her had sent him running back.
A dorian was not something to tangle with.
He and the medic had played it cool, neither of them revealing what a close call she’d had.
She could have been permanently injured and scarred.
“I couldn’t leave you alone. I was worried about you. Aaia let me in.”
Savannah stiffened. “She takes liberties.” She paused. “So do you—assuming you could just waltz into my apartment.”
“Should I leave?” He held his breath.
“No. Hold me,” she said in a small voice.
His heart stuttered in his chest. “I am.”
“Don’t let me go.”
“I won’t.” He brushed his lips against her hair.
“Did you just kiss my head?” She lifted her face.
“I did.”
“Maybe you should do it properly, then.”
He touched her lips in an avuncular kiss.
“That’s not what I had in mind.”
“I know what you had in mind.” It took enormous willpower not to kiss her the way he craved, but she wasn’t herself, and he couldn’t take advantage of her. “You’re not fully recovered yet. When you are, you may feel differently.”
“I won’t.”
“We’ll see.”
“You’re the one who got weird,” she accused.
“Because it was improper.” Because it had forced him to admit what he’d been denying. He had a crush on his assistant.
“And it’s not anymore?”
“Are you trying to talk me out of kissing you?”
“I’m trying to win an argument.”
“Are we arguing?” He smiled.
“Negotiating.” She smiled.
He toed off his shoes and kicked them onto the floor then scooted down in the bed so they were lying flat, and her head rested on his shoulder. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll stay the rest of the night in case you have another bad dream.”
“I’m not going to be able to sleep.”
“Try.”
“Are you always so bossy—dumb question.” She let out a big, noisy yawn, and he smiled.
“That proves nothing,” she said.
“Of course not.”
“If you stay, you’ll miss the meeting with your mother.”
“I don’t care.” There would be plenty of opportunities to meet with his mother. Being with Savannah right now was more important than company business.
“She’ll be mad.”
“When is she not?”
She relaxed and snuggled against him, and, for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace. Within a few minutes, the tenor of her breathing and the slow beat of her heart against his chest indicated she’d fallen asleep.
Content to hold her, he didn’t think he’d sleep, but shortly thereafter, he followed her into slumber.