Body Snatcher (Branwyn Blood: The Exiled Fae of Texas Book 1) by L.B. Carter

Author:L.B. Carter [Carter, L.B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Twenty-Five

HELP CHASE

Sleep made everything worse. Back in my teen years, I got run over by a car and then picked up a bout of pneumonia from the subsequent hospital stay. That’s not even close to this full-body ache.

I’m simultaneously paralyzed, any movement agony, and uncomfortable with the urge to shift off my bruises and sores. My throat burns, my body throbs, and even my eyelids refuse to wake, crusted shut with tears from my nightmares.

Whether it was that or the pain that woke me, I couldn't say—maybe a combination of the two. And now, I'll never get comfortable enough to fall back asleep, which I so desperately need.

Jaz is missing, Rhiannon's off the radar, and Detective Sutton probably wants a long talk with me.

I consider staying in bed all day when I think about that for another second. I’m pretty sure I was already on the suspect list before I turned up covered in blood at the scene where they’re looking for the latest abductee, this one a child.

Maybe I should call Paula and update her on my situation and solve one mystery—who called her in for me.

None of those have officially become my problems, though, meaning I'm not obligated to deal with any of that today. I could get up, pop a pain pill, open my little notebook, and see what’s on the docket. That’s all I’m compelled to do.

Something plinks against my skull. “Tarot! Did you sneak in again when I got home last night? If you adorn my poor bedraggled body with parrot poop, I'm going to ask Rhydian to barbecue you into nuggets and break my vegetarian diet.”

Peeling my cheek off a page, I remember groggily trying to read up on Dreigiau and their fiery skills in the middle of the night to banish the visions of a skeletal face and piercing teeth. Though the stories gloss over important details, consensus agrees on one thing: Dreigiau kill without mercy, hesitation, or deference. If I'd moved an inch on that riverbed, I could have tacked skin grafts onto my bodily delights of the morning.

A small brown sphere lands on the bed next to me. Is it raining chocolate cereal?

Frowning, I roll onto my back with a hearty groan. Tarot is not perched in the rafters. I roll back and keep going so I can see over the edge of my loft.

Planning to use me like a flamethrower? Rhydian signs from just outside my wide-open door, letting all my nice window-unit-conditioned air out. He plucks a handful from the cereal box in his lap and shoves it into his mouth. Chewing, he makes a face and closes the box. Nuggets?

I throw the cereal back at him.

Bore da to you too. I spell out good morning using my limited Welsh. I feel great, thanks for asking. Any news?

I slide down the bed, biting back the urge to grunt and moan my way down the stairs, which I descend on hands and knees. I nearly throw up, and my head begins to spin.

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