Free Infernal Affairs by Jes Battis Page A

that I could think of. I screamed until my throat burned, until I was moaning, crying, choking, until I tasted blood welling up in my throat.
    “I made you,” he said, “so that I could own you.”
    I sank to my knees, bawling. He was shadow, and he was all around me. I couldn’t breathe without taking him in. I couldn’t smell anything except the putrescence of his satisfaction.
    “Tess. I love you. I love you.”
    It was Lucian’s voice.
    “Get out!” I screamed. “Get out get out get out !”
    “I love you. I love you.”
    I felt the bite of his love against my throat. I felt the blood.
    Then nothing.
     
     
    I woke up again, for real this time. I was in Der rick’s hospital room, folded into one of the uncomfortable chairs with my feet propped up. My neck was killing me. It felt as if I’d slept sideways, or maybe upside down. Light was coming through the open blinds, and I could hear the rain outside. I checked my watch. Six forty-five a.m.
    Great. I had about twenty minutes to get to work if I wanted to avoid a reprimand. Selena was interrogating the Kentauros demon, and I had to be there.
    The remaining chairs were empty. Miles must have finally taken my advice and gone home to get a few hours of sleep in an actual bed. I glanced down at my cell to see if Mia had texted me. There was a message: at home and P bought groceries (strange i know!). see you after work.
    I shuddered to think what Patrick might have bought. Last time I sent him out for food, he came home with cereal and a jar of Nutella. But if Mia was there, at least she’d able to push for milk and bread. Derrick was the one who usually bought fresh pasta and produce. Ever since the day I brought home a slightly bruised avocado, he maintained that I wasn’t discriminating enough.
    Stifling a yawn, I looked up, expecting to see him asleep. Instead, he was wide-awake and sitting up, surrounded by pillows.
    “Wow,” he said, smiling. “Your hair looks like shit.”
    I stumbled out of the chair and ran over to the other side of the bed.
    “You’re awake! How long have you been awake?”
    “Long enough to hear you snoring like a hockey player with a busted nose. It’s actually quite impressive.”
    I kissed his forehead, then both of his cheeks. Then I grabbed his hand and kissed each knuckle for good measure. He laughed, pretending to swat me away. But he didn’t let go of my hand.
    “How are you feeling?”
    “Like a centaur threw me against a steel counter.”
    “Well, that’s pretty accurate.”
    “How long was I out for?”
    “Close to eight hours.”
    He winced. “I hurt in a lot of different places. I think even my hair hurts.”
    “You’ve got a broken arm, two broken ribs, and you’re recovering from a concussion. You’ve also got some serious floor-rash on your face. You hit the ground pretty hard back there.”
    “Yeah.” He licked his lips. “I can feel the stitches. And my head is killing me. It’s like an atomic hangover or something.”
    “I’m not surprised. You dove into the mind of an unfamiliar demon, and he was none too happy about it. You might as well have bashed your head against solid concrete. They’re going to run some tests once you’re feeling better, just to make sure there isn’t any internal damage.”
    “You mean to make sure I’m not crazy.”
    “Essentially.”
    He gave me a long look. “What do you think?”
    “About what?”
    “Do you think I’m going to need time off?”
    “Of course. Your body needs to recover.”
    “It’s not my body I’m worried about.”
    “Derrick. I’m sure your brain is fine. Aside from the concussion.”
    “You don’t know that.”
    “You’re sitting here talking to me, aren’t you? Totally lucid and normal. No ranting and raving, no aphasia, no psychosis.”
    “At least not yet.”
    “Are you worried? Do you feel different?”
    “I don’t know.” He closed his eyes. “I can’t tell. I just feel thin. Like someone shaved away the top