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.Adrenaline trickledover me, slowly rising.A loud crack of thunder shook the house; a flash of lightningbrightened the hallway.I walked out of the bathroom and looked out into the livingroom.Carlos was missing. Carlos? I asked, moving to the adjacent door.He must have been scoutingout one of the other rooms.I peeked into the bedroom across the hall from the master bedroom.My oldbedroom.My aunt had converted it into a guest room, though there were still tracesof me on the walls in the form of medals and soccer trophies sitting on the shelves.Islipped into my aunt s room and checked behind the door before moving to thecloset.Nothing.I looked under the bed and in every corner.By now, the rain wasfalling steadily against the windowpane.There was another crack of thunder andlightning, and her pale blue room briefly lit up.A shadow moved across the wall, bulkier and shorter then Carlos.I spunaround just as pain exploded between my temples like fireworks on the Fourth ofJuly going off.My world became a blend of colors, all trickling away into an abyss.Icould feel the soft plush carpet beneath me as I fell to the floor.I saw a box tuckedbeneath my aunt s bed, and I could make out the vague outline of a bulky boot.Itwas hazy, like the reflection in a rippling pool.I couldn t breathe.The air had been sucked straight out of me.In the back ofmy mind, I wondered who it was, because there were so many fucking possibilities.And then it was over, and everything went black.166 Evelyn ShepherdChapter TwelveMy head was killing me.No, I was pretty sure I was already dead.This waswhat hell must feel like.I groaned.Colors shifted beneath my eyelids, a flickeringlight that egged on my headache.It was like a whole construction crew had decidedto begin jackhammering all over my skull. He s moving, I heard a soft, harmonic voice call out.It sounded so familiar, sosoothing.I wanted to wrap myself in it.I wanted to be a little boy again and curl upin the arms of whoever was talking.I moaned and stretched my fingers out.My bones cracked.I pressed my palmsflat against cold, damp stone and began to push myself up without opening my eyes. Shit, he doesn t look so good, I heard someone else weakly mumble.Yeah,that voice was irritating and didn t help my head. Fuck, I whispered hoarsely, my throat feeling like someone had runsandpaper down it. Mi corazón.I knew that voice.I could feel Carlos s strong hands on my back.I pushed myself up, and a wave of nausea slammed into me.I was barely ableto make a groan of warning before everything in my stomach came up, burning myesophagus.Carlos made a soothing sound, smoothing his hands along my forehead to holdmy bangs out of my eyes while I heaved.It just kept coming, burning my eyes andnose and mouth. It s okay.It s okay.Carlos kept up a low murmur in my ear, bracing my body from the side. Is he warm? a woman s voice asked.I kept my eyes squeezed shut, the flickering, buzzing light irritating my headand egging on the nausea. No, I think it s from when he got hit in the head, Carlos said.I coughed and shakily wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.So I was hitin the head? I couldn t remember what was going on for the life of me.Which wasn tgood, because it just might cost me my life. Feeling any better? Carlos asked.Finally I opened my eyes and looked slowly around.Carlos pulled me awayfrom the puddle of vomit and cradled my worn-out body against his chest.AuntThe Hunting Moon 167Claire sat across from me, a large bruise blossoming along the right side of her face.Anger boiled up inside me, rising like the vomit.She brushed a wispy strand ofblonde hair from her face, her gentle gray eyes holding my stare. What s going on? I asked of no one in particular.Carlos shifted behind me.He bent my head down, swept my hair to the left,and probed at a bump on my head.Pain instantly shot through my head. Fuck! Ishouted, pulling back. They got you good, Carlos said, cold rage embroidering his voice. Who? What the fuck is going on? I snapped, turning to look at him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]