Free Daybreak by Ellen Connor Page B

and tell you my life story?”
    “No,” he said. “You can leave out the parts before the age of eleven.”
    “A trade.”
    “Hmm?”
    “A story for a story. I want to know how you first shifted. When you learned.”
    He turned to look down at her. Already the sunshine was strong enough to brighten his eyes, lighting them with pale fire. “And you’ll tell me when you ate raw meat.”
    Some deep instinct told her that pointing out every time he hid the truth from her wouldn’t help. He’d only tuck deeper in his defenses. She was just getting used to hearing what remained unsaid. But she wasn’t used to his breath so near. That heat. That . . . intimacy. He leaned closer, until his nose brushed her temple. Pressing deeper, he nuzzled the short hair just above the curve of her ear.
    “Tell me,” he whispered, lips touching her as he spoke. “Don’t think.”
    Pen nearly called it off. Five throwaway words had landed her in this moment. Wouldn’t be the first time. Because she had eaten raw meat, just to fight for the privilege of seeing another sunrise. That didn’t mean she needed to rip open that scar for a callous bastard.
    But Tru. He would know what it was to endure ugly things. Maybe more than anyone. He might even understand why she’d left home . . . because she had to be worthy of the life her mother had died protecting.
    “A year or two after I left Jenna and Mason, I was in the middle of the country. Old Kansas? That area. Sprawling wheat fields consumed by bugs and weeds. The voices I used to hear—they called me, leading me.”
    A shudder shook her upper back. She wouldn’t mention how many of those voices still called to her. One in particular. Finn. The imaginary friend who’d helped her through so many dark times. But what full-grown woman still heard the call of imaginary friends, let alone thought about replying?
    She huddled more tightly into herself and didn’t protest when Tru pulled her against his body. Don’t think.
    “O’Malley’s men picked me up. I magicked their leader into thinking I’d be more valuable if I remained pure. That he’d be rewarded if he brought such a prize to his bosses. We never made it that far. Demon dogs attacked—this massive pack. I hadn’t seen anything like it since our first winter, when they all worked together, trying to break in. Do you remember?”
    The feral skinwalkers who ate human and animal both had culled the dogs almost entirely. Pen couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen one of those nightmare beasts.
    Tru was quiet for a long time, long enough that she didn’t think he’d answer. But he tightened his hold and whispered, “I remember.”
    Something bunched and painful unfurled in her chest. Releasing her. The frantic rate of her heart slowed just enough to regain her calm. She’d lie to him, just a little, but most of the story could be told.
    “The guards fought. Fangs versus bullets. I huddled with four girls in the back of a nasty old van, holding them as they held me. The monsters won. We were trapped in there, half mad from entire nights filled with their howls. Claws on the metal. Their bodies slamming into the sides. For days this went on.”
    He smoothed the hair from her face, cupping her cheeks. “Hey. You don’t have to tell me this.”
    “The other girls died,” she said, talking over his kindness—hoping he wouldn’t ask about those deaths. “I tried to help them, healing as their bodies shut down. But I couldn’t keep it up. My own survival instincts only let me give so much. I shoved the bodies out of the van as a distraction. Just . . . weak . Exhausted. But I got hold of a gun and held them off, one bullet at a time, until I found the keys to the van.”
    “Jesus.”
    “I drove until I just couldn’t anymore. Maybe an hour. I would’ve died. I knew it even at the time, that I was dying. But I hit a deer. Out of nowhere. It ruined the van. I cracked my head on the steering