Casey didn’t think—she just moved.
Fast.
She slid both arms around Daniel’s chest and dragged him into the narrow, stifling space behind a nearby dumpster. The stench of whatever lurked inside the dumpster made her want to throw up. She propped him against the wall, covered her nose—and stilled when she heard the heavy footsteps approach.
“Why the hell couldn’t you just die like you were supposed to?” The rage in his voice had every muscle tensing, ready to grab Daniel and run. Not that they would get far. His presence didn’t poke at her like most Eternals, and what did scrape over her skin was straight up hate. “Now she expects me to find you in this rat-infested hellhole. Why do we let them live at all? Trev—anything on your side?”
Any chance of sneaking out the other side of the dumpster for help died when she felt the much stronger pull of a second Eternal, just before his voice echoed down the alley, from the other end.
“I’m blocked out by a fence. Razor wire across the top, so he could not have come this way, not in his condition.”
Hurdy cursed. “And you had to bring that up again, didn’t you? If we’d done it my way, we wouldn’t be here right now, walking through human muck. I can’t even smell him over this filth.”
Casey stilled, horrified by his words. Hiding Daniel would do no good if they could find him by his scent…
Once the idea popped into her head, it refused to let go. “Forgive me, Daniel,” she whispered, before she swiped her hand in the goop next to the dumpster and wiped it down the front of his shirt.
Trying not to gag, she cleaned her hand off on her skirt, and crouched down next to him, waiting, hoping the other Eternals would leave before—
Daniel jerked against her. Faster than she thought possible she shot her hand up and covered his mouth, whispering against his ear before he could protest. “Two of your—friends are here.”
He nodded, touching the hand over his mouth. When Casey started to lower it, he caught her wrist, sliding his fingers down until they closed over hers. She swallowed, staring at their hands. Her skin warmed under his touch, and she felt heat flame her cheeks.
“Casey.” It took a second to realize his low voice was inside her head. Fighting the need to panic, she met his eyes. “You can hear me?” He sounded surprised. Swallowing, she nodded. Daniel closed his eyes briefly, then tugged on her hand, pulling her closer. He shook his head when she tried to stop him from speaking. “They’ve moved on.”
“You’re sure?” Daniel raised an eyebrow. Now he looked like one of them. Proud, arrogant, superior. She tried to pull her hand free, surprised at his strength, even with the injury, the poisoning. “No need to be snotty about it. All you had to do was—”
“Casey.” He let go of her, and shocked her still by touching her cheek. “I’m sorry.” His fingers slid back into her hair. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I, for lumping you in with other Eternals.”
“I am different, much to my mother’s disappointment.” Grief flared in his eyes, and disappeared almost before she saw it. “You shouldn’t be able to hear me,” he whispered, more breath than voice. “But nothing about you surprises me. Did you hear the other name?”
“Trev.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Trevor. I thought—never mind.” He leaned in, laid his forehead against hers. “Thank you for not leaving me.”
His breath warmed her lips, his dark eyes focused on her, only her. All she had to do was move an inch and—she would be kissing one of them—
With a gasp, she jerked back, recoiling when he reached for her.
“Casey—”
“Your—kiss—”
“Will bind you?” She nodded, grateful the darkness hid her fierce blush. Daniel glanced down at his bandaged arm. “Not anymore.”
“Right.” Forgetting her embarrassment, she checked the tourniquet, then wrapped her arm around his waist and used the grimy wall behind them to help him stand. “Dr. Harrison’s clinic is just across the street. Up for a little walk?”
He flashed a smile that threatened to stop her heart. “I am yours, my lady.”
Casey wanted that—with an intensity that scared her.
Keeping her gaze on the street in front of them, she guided Daniel down the alley, listening for any footsteps. The gangs stayed away from the med district, for the most part, since the prescription-strength medicine wasn’t stored here, but the others looking for Daniel could double back at any time.
They crossed the street unmolested. Next goal: get him up the short staircase leading to the elevator.
She switched sides, so he could use his right hand to grip the handrail. One painful step at a time, they got up, unseen. Casey thought her heart would give out, it pounded so fast. She pushed open the gate to the elevator, leaned Daniel against the wall, and closed the gate, hitting the button for the top floor.
Please. She grabbed Daniel when he started to sag. Please let him be here.
* * *
Daniel held on to Casey as she led him down a dim, dirty hall. His left arm throbbed, the tourniquet like a vise. He could feel the poison, pushing at the wall he had managed to throw up before it took hold. As much as he wanted to believe, he doubted anything could reverse the damage it had already caused.
Trevor showing up with Hurdy hurt more than the pain in his arm. The one person he had trusted without reservation had betrayed him, left him to die after giving a false promise to return. Every word came back to haunt Daniel.
Those words had kept him alive, kept him fighting. He could thank Trevor for that much. For the rest—
He could not think beyond that, beyond surviving the next few hours. There would be time later for retribution, punishment, and hopefully, a reason.
Casey stopped in front of a door, and knocked on the frosted glass. “Dr. Harrison? It’s Casey. I need your help.”
The door creaked open, and the oldest mortal Daniel had ever seen stared down at them. They didn’t usually survive to such an age, not with their limited resources. He must have been more than sixty, judging from all the wrinkles, and the frizz of white hair sticking out from his head.
“Casey—oh, good heavens.” His pale grey eyes widened. “Bring him in, girl. Quickly.”
She helped Daniel over the threshold, across the long, narrow room, and lowered him to a chair.
“I’m sorry to involve you,” she said, her hand warm on Daniel’s shoulder. “But I had nowhere else to go, and he needs more help than I can give him.”
“Stop apologizing, dear girl.” Dr. Harrison pulled over a wheeled chair and sat in front of Daniel, lifting a pair of glasses that hung from a chain around his neck. “Been sneaking through the alleys, haven’t you?” Daniel had gotten used to the smell, until Dr. Harrison mentioned it. “Now, let’s see what we have here.” He settled the glasses on his nose, squinting through them as he examined Daniel’s left arm. Every touch sent shockwaves of fire through his wound. Daniel clenched his jaw, held as still as he could under the probing fingers. “Iron, was it? The tourniquet was a clever move. I just might have something.”
He pushed to his feet and hobbled through a doorway. Daniel heard the sound of glass bottles tapping against each other. Casey crouched next to him, took his right hand.
“He’s the best doctor in the city. He’ll do what he can to help you.”
Daniel barely heard her. He was too distracted by the feel of her hand, the small, warm fingers, her breath on his cheek. He turned his head, met her clear green eyes, so close. Her lips parted as she studied him, the pretty flush staining her cheeks again.
Mother had told him all his life that mortals were imperfect, a pale imitation of them in looks and intelligence. He foolishly believed her. Here was proof of yet another lie. What else had she lied about?
And Father—who claimed he treated those on the other side of the wasteland with benevolence, for their service in creating the beauty of the city his people inhabited. The little he’d seen of this place told Daniel the opposite. They scrabbled for a living, caught between violence and scarcity. That someone like Casey existed in this environment told him all he needed to know about mortals.
“Daniel?” Her soft voice had him inching forward, wanting to know if her skin, her lips were as soft as they looked—
“Here we are.” They both jumped at Dr. Harrison’s voice. He appeared a moment later, just in time to prevent a connection Daniel could not afford to make. “This is a little something I’ve been working on, at the request of—well, that’s not important.” He stuck a long needle through the top of a small vial. “This will ease some of the pain I know you must be—”
“No!” Casey smacked the vial out of his hand. It shattered against the tile floor. “That’s a heavy sedative.” She stepped in front of Daniel. “Why are you—”
“Sedating him? So I can take care of his arm. Casey—when have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?” She clutched the folds of her skirt. “Now, let me do what I need to, while we still have a window to reverse the damage.”
“I thought—I’m sorry.”
“Quite all right. Though I must tell you, Casey,” he stood, backing away from them. “You should always trust your instincts.”
Hurdy and Trevor stepped into the doorway.