Chapter 32
Tobias
I’m alive. At least I think I am.
A searing pain shoots across my chest every time I inhale, but at least I’m breathing. Whatever I’m laying on is soft, so I’m probably not back in Hell.
All good signs.
An ache throbs in my temples as I pry my eyes open and let them adjust to the light. I’m staring up at a set of fluorescent bulbs, the familiar roof of my tour bus stretched out above me.
How the fuck did I get here?
I have no idea how long I was out, but the moments leading up to unconsciousness are slowly fading back into focus. The hellbeasts ambushing us, the fight, Emrys saving my ass, Joseline…
My heart skips a beat as I recall barely making it in time to save her. Draining her energy, desperately trying not to take too much while also trying not to die. Her energy is probably the only reason I’m not back in Hell right now.
I groan and reach up to massage my temple.
Fuck, my head hurts.
I glance down at my body, wincing at the damage. Someone tore off my shirt and bandaged my chest—probably Emrys. Dry blood is crusted over my skin, scratches and bruises littering most of me. They’ll heal quickly, a few days at most, but it’s not a pretty sight.
The bus is obviously moving, bumping along gently as we roll down the road. Definitely for the best; we didn’t need to stay at that venue another second. If another swarm of hellbeasts found us, we wouldn’t stand a chance.
Running is our best option.
My eyes flick to the covered windows, and the sliver of sky I can see through the blinds is black. It’s still night, so we can’t have been driving for long. A few hours at most.
I lift my head, ignoring the splitting pain that follows, and look around for signs of life.
Joseline is curled up on the opposite sofa, snoring softly beneath a blanket.
There’s blood smeared across her face, probably mine, but she looks okay.
Her energy is low, which makes sense considering how much I drained, but she’ll be fine.
Relief washes over me.
I drop my head back down and blow out a slow breath. Impossibly, somehow, we all made it out alive. At least, I think we did. I won’t know for sure until someone fills me in, but I’m not moving right now. I don’t think I could if I wanted to.
My eyes fall on Joseline again, and warmth swells in my chest. Truthfully, I would have been disappointed if I’d died. Angry really. If I never got to hold her or kiss her again, I fear I would have spent forever trying to escape Hell, just so I could find her and make up for lost time.
I’ve lost my damn mind.
But even as I close my eyes and try to shove the thoughts away, I know they’re the truth. Joseline has imprinted herself on me in ways I never expected, in ways I never wanted. Not to mention, she saved my life.
I’ll never be the same.
Unable to keep my eyes open for another second, I close them and quickly drift off to sleep.
When I wake up again, Joseline is no longer on the couch. For a moment, I panic, my senses on high alert, and I bolt upright. I regret it right after. Sucking in a sharp breath, I clutch my side, the edges of my vision darkening with the pain.
“Fucking hell,” I hiss.
“Easy, there,” Joseline’s voice calls from the kitchen. Her smiling face is staring at me from the counter.
She clearly took a shower, because there’s no more blood staining her face, and her hair is pulled back into a perfect ponytail. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts, which does dark, twisted things to me. I like seeing her in my clothes, almost as much as I like seeing her without anything on.
I slump against the back of the couch, trying to keep my head from spinning. I’m still impossibly drained, and I need to feed if I hope to heal faster.
“Where are we?” I don’t actually care, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.
“Somewhere in Nebraska, I think,” she answers, before crossing the space to join me on the couch. She tucks her legs up beside her, draping her arm over the back of the sofa, and stares at me.
“Are you okay?”
My eyes shift to hers, and I hate the worry I see in them. “I’m fine.”
Her expression doesn’t change, and we sit in silence for a long moment.
“You almost died,” she says softly.
I hesitate, then nod slowly. “Yeah, not one of my best moments.”
“Don’t do that again.” Her expression is nothing but serious, and I fight the urge to laugh.
“I’ll do my best.” I force a smile.
“If you want to clean up, I put fresh towels in there for you,” she says, jerking her chin toward the bathroom.
“Maybe don’t get that bandage wet, though.
” Her eyes fall to my chest before climbing back up.
“Or you can stay like that. I don’t know, the whole wounded warrior thing is kind of doing it for me. ”
I roll my eyes. “I see. You only think I’m sexy after I get my ass kicked. Good to know.”
I’m a bit wobbly as I stand, but I quickly catch my balance.
Scrubbing some of this blood off isn’t a bad idea, and I’m sure there are bits of hellbeast entrails smeared on what’s left of my clothes.
I’d much rather Joseline help me wash off the worst of it—it’ll be a lot less painful that way—but I’m not asking her for favors.
Especially not when I owe her for saving my life.
As I expected, bathing myself is a bitch, but I feel much better once I’m clean. I pull on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, wincing as the material brushes my raw skin. I leave my shredded ones in a pile to burn them later.
Emrys is sitting at the dining table when I emerge, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. To my surprise, he’s not wearing his mask, and his many eyes whip in my direction. He has a black eye and a few scratches down his cheek, but he looks considerably better than I feel.
“Thanks for saving my ass last night.” I attempt a smirk. “Showed up just in time.”
“That I did.” He nods in agreement. “How’s your bandage holding up?”
“Fine.” It hurts like hellfire to breathe or move, but nothing vital is falling out, so I guess it’s doing its job.
“That wound was deep, but I did my best,” he says.
“I appreciate it.” I crash onto the couch next to Joseline, wincing as I get settled. Showering and changing clothes zapped all of my energy, and I feel like I could pass out at any second.
But I can’t, not yet.
“So, what happened?” I ask, trying to sound casual. “Everyone alive?”
My stomach knots with anticipation, even though I probably know the answer. Joseline would have broken the news to me sooner if anyone had died. Right?
“Everyone is okay.” Emrys nods, lifting his mug to take a careful sip. “Daire got a nasty cut. Nearly took off his ear. Sebastian broke a finger. Ashten and Niki are fine—a little shaken up, but that’s understandable.”
I nod along as he speaks, weight falling off my shoulders with every word.
“And the baby?” I can’t help but ask.
At that, the corners of his mouth curl upward. “Precious. Healthy.”
“Beautiful!” Joseline nearly squeals. “Oh, wait until you see her. She’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I loll my head to the side to see her face lit up, and I fight the smile tugging at my lips. To see her this way, mostly anxious-free and relieved and happy… it’s like a balm to my frazzled system.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, turning my attention back to Emrys.
He lifts his shoulders and drops them. “We’re on our way to the next venue, but I doubt we’ll perform this weekend. Not with everyone beat to hell and back. Sebastian hasn’t said anything though.”
That makes sense, and quite frankly, I’m relieved. As much as a stadium full of screaming fans would refuel us and help us mend faster, I know I can’t perform like this.
“Why don’t you go lay down in your bed?” Emrys jerks his horns toward our bedroom at the back. “I’m sure it’ll feel better than the couch. I’ll wake you when we stop.”
I nod, hardly in the mood to argue. Nothing sounds better than stretching out on my mattress and taking another nap. With a grunt, I heave myself to my feet again, wobbling for a second before I catch my balance.
My eyes jump to Joseline, who’s sitting quietly on the sofa, and heat creeps into my cheeks. Silently, I hold out my hand in offering.
She stares at it, like it’s something strange.
“Join me?” I finally say when she doesn’t move.
She cocks an eyebrow at me and grins wide, hopping to her feet before sliding her hand into mine. At her touch, sparks zip up my arm, and my chest warms.
“I guess,” she says, loud enough for Emrys to hear. “But don’t scream my name so loud this time.”
Emrys snorts into his mug, nearly choking on his coffee, and I lead her toward the bedroom. I kick the door closed behind us, my eyes instantly going to her face as I watch her take in the space.
We’ve done a lot of renovations since the twins got their own bus to share with Ashten. The room is almost perfectly symmetrical, with a full-size bed and dresser on each side. It’s a tight fit, but we make it work.
Gesturing to the bed on the right, I let Joseline crawl over against the wall. Then, I lie down next to her, relieved when my head hits the pillow.
My eyelids are heavy, threatening to close, and I gesture for her to settle into the crook of my arm.
“Nuh uh. No way.” She shakes her head adamantly. “You’re hurt.”
“And?” I look over at her incredulously. “I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, you’re barely mobile, Mr. Fine.” She narrows her eyes on me. “How about you rest, and when you feel better, we’ll talk about it?”
“Or you can come over here before I make you and injure myself in the process.”
She glares at me, her lips pressed into a hard line.
“Please don't make me beg,” I groan. I don't have the energy for theatrics.
“You’re impossible,” she finally concedes with a sigh, slipping up against me and laying her head on my chest. “Is this okay?”
My skin aches beneath her touch—not in the ways I like—but having her close is the only thing that matters. She’s here, we’re okay, and that’s all I need.
“It’s perfect,” I say as I close my eyes, and I’m asleep before she says anything else.