Bound in Black by Juliette Cross

Author:Juliette Cross [Cross, Juliette]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Urban
ISBN: 9781619224971
Google: vu_LBwAAQBAJ
Goodreads: 23254280
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Published: 2015-07-21T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

I’d taken a hot shower after returning from George’s penthouse in Chelsea. I never did ask where he’d taken Dommiel. He and Jude knew all kinds of sentinels, typically monks, who were healers and messengers for the Flamma of Light. I couldn’t get the vision out of my head of that moment when George laid eyes on Kat and I told him that Thomas, my alleged guardian angel, was in fact Damas and we’d encountered him at Dommiel’s club. I’d never seen that expression of blinding fear and fury warring on a man’s face. No, that wasn’t true. I’d seen Jude look very much the same the night he’d saved me from Danté.

I was relieved to be back at the safety of the cottage, watching over my charge. After washing the long night’s events from my body and my thoughts, I dried off and fumbled through the drawers in the bedroom. After pulling on a Union Jack T-shirt and a pair of white cotton panties, I jerked up a pair of sweatpants, eager to finally lie down and relax. And then my nail caught.

“Ow. Damn it.” The nail had torn at the quick. As I stood there, my sweatpants having fallen to my ankles, the air in the room changed, became charged with electric heat. I glanced up.

Jude stared at me. My heart dropped right out of my chest into my stomach. He still lay as I’d left him, but he tilted his head in my direction. His eyes—heaven help me—gazed vacantly. His irises were full black, the whites a murky gray, swirling with the mist of Lethe’s lair.

“Jude?” No response.

I jerked on the sweatpants and ran around to his side, picking up his hand and squeezing it between mine. His focus followed me. And though he stared fixedly into my eyes, there was no recognition, no spark of light, nothing. He didn’t resist when I took his hand. He didn’t move at all.

I brushed the hair away from his eyes. “Jude. Baby, can you hear me?”

His brow pinched together in a frown at my touch. He turned his head to the side, his vacant stare settling on the window, where snow drifted down in fat flakes.

“Can you hear me?”

Nothing. For minutes, I simply held his hand and wondered what to do next.

“Okay. Maybe you’re hungry. Maybe you’ll eat something for me now.”

I rushed into the kitchen and heated the stove at once. In the few days he’d been home, I’d managed to get him to swallow only a few spoonfuls of broth. Very few.

Knowing his system was still weak, I heated a bowl of tomato soup, adding just a dash of Tabasco the way he liked it. The way he used to like it, anyway. I couldn’t imagine how happy watching him take every spoonful would make me. He continued to stare out the window, but when I touched the spoon to his lips and coaxed him, he opened and swallowed.

“Good. This is good. Your body needs food, sustenance.

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