Free Midnight Awakening by Lara Adrián Page B

thought desperately, even while reason told her she had the means to buy a hundred new ones. But this one was Camden’s. Her only tangible link to him now, through the music he’d been listening to in the days—the hours, in fact—before he left home for the very last time.
    “Hey, whatever,” the clerk said, shrugging now and pulling the box back off the counter. “I shouldn’t be messing around anyway—”
    “Okay,” Elise blurted before she could change her mind. “Yes, okay. It’s yours. You can have it.”
    She pulled the wires out from under her sweatshirt, then wound them around the iPod and set the sleek black case down in front of the clerk. It took her a while to remove her hand from the top of the device. When she did, it was with a wince of deep regret.
    And rigid resolve.
    “I’ll take the package now.”

 

    CHAPTER
Eight

    T egan came out of a brief, light doze, fully recharged, as footsteps approached the apartment door from outside. He knew the sound of Elise’s soft but determined gait even before a key slid into the lock announcing her arrival.
    She’d been gone almost two hours. Another two and the sun would finally be gone, and he’d be free to get the hell out of there, back to his business as usual.
    Seated on the floor with his elbows resting on his knees, his back against the foam-padded wall, he watched as the door opened cautiously and Elise slipped inside. She didn’t seem as eager to singe him with the waning light from the hall; now she was focused on her own movements, as if it took most of her concentration just to remove the key and carefully close the door behind her. A lumpy plastic grocery bag swung from her tightly fisted left hand.
    “Find what you needed?” he asked her as she rested a moment with her forehead pressed against the door. Her weak nod was her only reply. “Another headache coming on?”
    “I’m fine,” she answered quietly. As if marshaling her strength, she pivoted around and with her right hand up at her temple, she headed for the kitchen. “It’s not one of the bad ones…I wasn’t out very long, so it will ease soon.”
    Without dropping her grocery bag or shedding her down vest, she walked past the treadmill into the narrow galley. She was out of his line of vision now, but Tegan heard the tap running, water filling a glass. He got up and moved so that he could see her, debating whether to offer her the comfort of the trance again. God knew, she looked like she needed it.
    Elise drank the water greedily, her delicate throat working with every swallow. There was something fiercely basic about her thirst, her need so primal it struck him as absurdly erotic. Tegan considered how long she’d gone without blood from one of the Breed. Five years at least. Her body had begun to show the lack, muscle groups going leaner, skin less pink than pale. She would be able to better cope with her talent if she was nourished by Breed blood, but she had to know that, having lived among the vampire race for any length of time.
    She drank more water, and after her third full glass, Tegan saw some of the tension drain from her shoulders. “The stereo, please…will you turn it on?”
    Tegan sent a mental command across the room and music soared to fill the quiet. It wasn’t blaring like she preferred, but it seemed to help her take the edge off a bit. After a moment, Elise began putting away the supplies she’d brought home. With each second that passed, her strength renewed before his eyes. She was right; this wasn’t nearly as bad as what he’d walked in on last night.
    “It’s worse when you get close to the Minions,” he observed aloud. “Being exposed to that level of evil—having to get close enough to touch it—is what brings on your migraines, and the nosebleeds.”
    She didn’t try to deny it. “I do what I must. I’m making a difference. And before you tell me that I’m of no use to the Order in this fight, you might be interested to