Free Jenny Undead (The Thirteen: Book One) by J.L. Murray Page B

whispered. Her eyes
went to the back of Jenny's neck.
    “I wasn't fast enough,” Jenny said,
then her knees gave out and she fell, barely catching herself, the
cut on her hand opening up as it hit the hard ground. “I
wasn't fast enough,” she repeated, as Lucy helped her to her
feet.
    As Lucy half carried Jenny into the house, Jenny
thought she heard her say something under her breath. Just before
she passed out, she realized what it was.
    Lucy was saying I'm sorry.

EIGHT
    Jenny woke up in a bed. She could hear a noise
somewhere in the room, but couldn't focus enough to look for the
source. Her skin crawled and stung like there were tiny, biting
insects all over her. The back of her neck felt hot, burning, and
her stomach was doing flips. Jenny blinked and wiped something
sticky out of her eyes. She tried to sit up and the noise stopped.
Immediately, she lay down again as a shrill buzzing filled her head
and the pain and nausea threatened to knock her out again.
    “Jen,” said a voice. It was so
familiar. She turned her head as quickly as she dared to. The pain
behind her eyes felt like it was embedded in her skull. She
squinted at a figure next to the bed. “Jen, can you hear
me?” It sounded like Declan, only softer, pained. Jenny
blinked and the world started coming into focus.
    There was a chair next to the
bed, and sitting on the chair was Declan. Only it wasn't any
version of him that Jenny had seen. This Declan was haggard, his
eyes red and puffy, his face splotchy. His hair was standing on end
like he'd been pulling at it. He looked at least ten years older
and smaller than Jenny had ever seen him. He was a big man, tall
and broad and hard as a brick wall. But now he was hunched over,
his shoulders limp and his back slouched. He was looking at her in
a way he'd never done before. Like he was on the verge of
tears. But Declan doesn't cry , Jenny
thought. She'd never even seen him sad. Not really.
    “Deck?” she said, her voice painful
in her throat. She looked at what Declan was holding in his lap. It
was the gun he'd given her, the one she'd pointed at Casey. She
looked at his face.
    “It's not for you,” he said weakly.
“It's for them.” He nodded toward the door. Jenny could
hear the sounds of voices muffled somewhere in the house.
Arguing.
    “They want to kill me,” she said. It
was a statement, not a question. Declan didn't answer, just rubbed
his scruffy beard with his hand.
    “You need to let them,” she said.
“You know what's going to happen to me. You know what I'll
become. Let them kill me.”
    “The fuck I will,” he said quickly,
his voice harsh. He looked away like the sight of her pained him.
“You wouldn't do it.”
    “Do what?” Jenny rasped. “Kill
you?” She closed her eyes and caught her breath. Her skin
itched, her eyeballs ached in her skull.
    “Kill me. Let someone even lay a hand on
me,” he said. She opened her eyes. He was watching her again.
“You'd slit anyone's throat who tried.”
    “Probably.”
    “There's no probably, Jen. It's what we
do. It's who we are.” He stood up and walked back and forth
along the bed, pacing. He ran a hand through his hair and stopped,
looking down at her. “We can't not be together, Jen,”
he said. He looked mad and wild and tears welled up in his
bloodshot eyes. “We don't know how to be without each other.
You can't...” He swallowed hard.
    “You've been without me before,” she
whispered. “Most of your life.”
    “That part of my life wasn't worth
shit.”
    “That's stupid.”
    “It's not,” he
said. “ Goddammit !” The
sound made Jenny feel like her ears were exploding and she put her
hands gingerly to the sides of her head. “Fuck, fuck,
fuck!” Declan was pacing again, more manic than ever.
“ Fuck! ” he screamed,
closing his eyes tight and holding onto the foot board of the bed for
support. She could see his knuckles were white and took her hands
off her ears. “I can't, Jen,” he said, his voice