She sighed with relief when she lowered the phone to her lap, and rested her head against the hard metal of the lamppost. She was so, so tired. Shep had said not to drink anything, take anything, or talk to anyone, but he hadn’t said she couldn’t take a little nap. A nap sounded heavenly.
A very small, still-cogent part of her mind was throwing a temper tantrum way in the back, because she wasn’t a kid anymore. She was nineteen, turning twenty next month, and she was in her second year at NYU. Ordinarily, with her wits fully about her, she didn’t let Shep boss her around. She would eventually concede to his security concerns, but only after he understood that was because she wanted to, not because he was her master. He was her designated bodyguard.He works for you, Raven had said once.
Cass didn’t truly think that. That seemed so…shitty. Pretentious. She liked to think of them as friends…which meant it stung every time Shep treated her like some snot-nosed brat he had to babysit. She didn’t like to think of it as pitching a fit; she was simply reminding him, everyone, really, that she was an adult now. That she didn’t need to be handled all the time, and was capable of navigating the world on her own.
Shedidneed him tonight, though.
A slamming door startled her upright. She opened her eyes and didn’t know if her vision was swimming or if she was.
“Cassandra?” someone called behind her. The scuff of shoes on the house steps echoed like someone was sandpapering the inside of her skull. She winced, and managed to blink the streaking headlights into some semblance of order just as someone sat down on the curb beside her. “Hey, there you are. Why are you sitting out here?”
The human-shaped blob to her left resolved in fits and starts, crisp as a professional photo one second, nothing but a wettish smear the next. After a long beat of struggle, she realized it was Sig.
“He-ey,” she said, and slumped back against the post, head too swimmy to hold it upright for long. “I’m…” She flopped a hand toward the street. “Shep.” That seemed like it covered it. Any further explanation was too much effort, honestly.
It was hard to tell with the way the lights danced around, but she thought Sig smiled. “You’re Shep?”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s awfully cold out here. Do you want to go back inside?”
The idea of standing turned her stomach over unpleasantly. “Nuh-uh.”
He chuckled. It was a musical sound; the first time she met him, before they even spoke, she heard his laugh across the room and thought his laugh sounded like singing. “Okay, then. Here. At least take this.”
There was a rush of air, and something warm and soft settled around her shoulders; it brushed gently at her neck.
“What?” she said, and blinked some more, desperately willing her eyes to work. The whole world looked like the view through a rain-streaked window, foggy, and rippling, and bleeding all over the place.
“It’s a blanket. I don’t want you to freeze.” The laugh was still threaded through his voice. Something rubbed briskly against her arm, and she thought it might be his hand.
No, it was definitely his hand—she could feel the distinct shapes of his fingers when he gripped her shoulder and squeezed, the pressure firm through the blanket and the too-thin jacket she’d worn because it was her favorite, and went perfectly with her shoes.
“Do you want some water?”
“Yes,” she said, right away, and it came outyesh. She was parched. Her tongue was made of cotton and the insides of her cheeks were cardboard.
But. Wait. No. Shep had told her not to drink anything.
“No,” she said, frowning. Damn, she was thirsty.
Sig chuckled again. It really was the loveliest sound. “Yes or no?”
She murmured…something. Who knew what. The sidewalk was going full teeter-totter again.
“Here.” Something red closed in on her face, and resolved into a Solo cup. “I brought you some.”
She blinked, and somehow the cup was in her hand instead of his.
She peered down into the cup, and there was no color. No smell. Was it empty? No, he’d said water. It looked like water. It smelled like water—or, well, like nothing, which was always a good sign when it came to water. And she was sothirsty…
The edge of the cup bumped against her lip, and Shep’s sleep-rough command filled her head.Don’t drink anything.
Shit.
“Shit,” she said aloud, and passed the water back.
She attempted to. Suddenly her bare leg was wet, and Sig said, “Shit,” too, and the cup was no longer in her hand.
