Watch of Nightingales: A WWII Novel by Honor Gable

Author:Honor Gable [Gable, Honor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Military Fantasy
Publisher: Honor Gable
Published: 2019-06-12T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

AUDREY

Theo's dead body stares up at me. I closed his eyes when I cried over him earlier, but I can still see the glassy dead look in them. I'll always see it. I didn't realize how much I cared for him until I almost passed out, and then got shot for my trouble. I never did see where the shots came from, but suddenly I had two holes in my chest. Unlike mine, the holes in Theo's chest didn't heal.

Viola disappeared after the people we freed. Hopefully she gets them where they need to be and makes it back to Jade's safely. I won't know for a few days until we meet at the next safe house. My orders are to hole back up with Xavier and Lois.

The Jerries must have called for help, because more trucks are showing up. More than we'll be able to take on.

Another Molotov cocktail explodes not far from me, affording me the cover to run. Before I take a step, coughs send me to my knees. Open eyes squinting with confusion and fear meet mine.

Theo is alive.

He raises himself to a seated position, his grey face flooding with red. "What happened?"

I hug him to me and force him to his feet. "We have to get out of here."

He's still too stunned to argue or ask questions and I'm glad. I can't answer the ones swirling in my own head. Did I heal him? How will I explain it? And the pure joy radiating from me that he's alive. It gives me energy and I haul him along away from the fight. Rivka's yellow energy keeps the Jerries busy while we make our retreat.

Theo falls twice and after the third time, we have to stop. Thankfully, we're in an alley and off the main roads. My adrenaline is fading and the healing has taken a toll. I'm not strong enough to keep lugging him. The catacombs are near here. If we can just make it there.

"Come on, Theo. You have to help me."

He straightens and stares down at me in confusion, putting more effort into walking. "Did I get shot?"

There's a little blood by his temple and I jump on it. "You were grazed and it knocked you out."

He reaches up to his head and grimaces at the blood now coating his hand. "I swore I got shot in the chest."

"I thought you did too. It's why your shirt is ripped to shreds. Questions later. We have to find cover."

"You can let go now. I'm feeling better."

I do, gratefully. "Do you know where we can go?"

He purses his lips. And it's a shame I'm too tired to appreciate it. "Yes, I think so. Hide here and I'll be right back. You don't look so good." He takes off the sweater wrapped around his waist and yanks it on over his head, hiding his bloody and ruined shirt.

Too tired to argue, I sink against the side of the building, hidden by trash.

I can't tell what smells worse.

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