Dark Dreams and Dead Things by Martina McAtee

Author:Martina McAtee [McAtee, Martina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Seven Sisters Publishing

Quinn sat in the driver’s seat of the Toyota, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, trying to quell the shaking. His shirt was sweat-damp despite the bite in the air. He licked chapped lips, clenching his eyes shut. He’d left when the fighting started; he hadn’t even asked, just walked out the back door. He’d had to. Even from the kitchen, he’d smelled the fear, the adrenaline. He’d wanted to curl up in it like a warm blanket. Instead, he’d escaped to the car at the back of the restaurant, hoping the car would act as a barrier between him and werewolf senses. He didn’t want to answer any questions. He had no answers.

He pushed wet palms against his eyes, reveling in the salty sting of pain. What was wrong with him? He looked up in time to see Ember push open the back door and look around, frowning before she sat on the crate still sitting on its side from the morning’s produce delivery. She tilted her head back against the concrete and stared up at the starless sky. He took a deep breath and grabbed the door handle.

“I wouldn’t do that just yet.”

Quinn yelped, clutching his chest as he stared at his sudden passenger. “Holy shit, man. Don’t do that.”

Quinn flinched as Silas smiled, placing a hand on his arm. He wore the same black jeans and t-shirt from the other day, but he’d forgone the top hat for a navy-blue beanie cap and black-framed glasses. Just like Quinn used to wear. Exactly like Quinn used to wear. What was this guy’s angle?

“I apologize. That was rude. It’s just you seem…distressed.”

Quinn swallowed down a shaky breath. “I’m fine.”

Silas’s gaze roamed over Quinn. “Clearly,” he said, his tone mocking. “May I see it?”

Quinn looked over, startled. “See what?”

“Your ribs? Your arm? Either will do.”

Quinn moved his arms to guard his side. “What? No. I said I’m fine.”

“Quinn, I know you don’t trust me. Of course, you don’t. But it’s not my intention to hurt you.”

Quinn wanted to argue, but what was the point? He moved his arm and let Silas peel up the long sleeved black t-shirt that was Quinn’s uniform, taking in the clumsy stitches he’d created along his side and under his ribs. “That’s a nasty bit of work. It usually heals by now, doesn’t it?”

Quinn stared at the man with the strange yellow eyes. “How do you know that? How do you know so much about us?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that just yet.” Silas nodded towards the bandage on Quinn’s hand. “What did you say happened there?”

“Nobody noticed. They’re preoccupied.”

Quinn protested as Silas tugged the bandage off Quinn’s hand and arm. “You stitched all of these by yourself? That had to hurt worse than the wounds themselves.”

“Not if you know the right incantation,” Quinn muttered.

Silas nodded before giving Quinn a hesitant look. “Just relax. This might sting a bit.”

A bit. Right. Pain like fire flared as Silas’s hands dragged from Quinn’s forearm to his palm.

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