Let the Sky Fall (Sky Fall #1)(10)

“Did you kill it?” My mom sounds farther away, like she jumped back.

“I tried to, but now I can’t find it.” I don’t need to worry about my mom offering to help. She’s a big believer in the whole boys should kill all the bugs philosophy.

“Well, I won’t distract you, then,” she says, and I can’t help smiling. “But make sure you kill it before you go back to sleep. I don’t want it getting loose in the house.”

“On it,” I promise, my body relaxing as her footsteps retreat down the hall.

One crisis solved. Now I just have to deal with the passed-out, scantily clad girl on the floor of my room who’s most likely a supernatural creature.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

No clue what to do about that one.

I switch on my lamp and creep toward her, craning my neck to get a better look. Her eyes are closed, but her chest rises and falls in slow, heavy breaths.

It occurs to me that she might be hurt. I don’t know if ghosts can get injured—or if she even is a ghost. She looks real enough right now. Pale, though—and her face looks like she’s in pain.

Is she sick?

What am I supposed to do if she is? Pretty sure the hospital won’t be able to help her. Do magical creatures have the same anatomy as humans?

My eyes scan her body.

Wow.

And . . . I’m checking out a girl who might be something other than human. Not to mention she’s currently unconscious.

Awesome timing, man.

She clearly needs help. She’s been out cold for at least five minutes. I have to do something.

But what?

Water.

On TV they’re always giving it to people like it’s a cure-all. It can’t hurt. I even have a half-finished water bottle by my bed.

I grab it, then tiptoe to the girl. She doesn’t stir—even when I crouch beside her.

I hold my breath as I lift her head, gently propping her neck against my knee. Her skin is cool and smooth and I worry she’s shaking—but then I realize it’s me who’s trembling.

She’s real.

I didn’t really believe it until that moment. All the dreams. All the fleeting half glimpses. Even seeing her so clearly tonight. All of that could’ve been a mistake somehow. But now I have her—in my room. In my arms. And despite anything my eyes just saw, she feels human.

She feels like me.

A tiny thrill jolts me as my fingers part her lips. They’re even softer than I imagined. Yeah—I imagined them. I dare anyone to try being haunted by a hot girl for ten years and not think about kissing her.

I place the bottle against her lips. Will she be able to swallow if I pour it into her mouth? Or will she choke?

I pour just enough to wet her tongue, not breathing until I see her swallow. It’s surreal watching her lips close and the muscles in her throat contract. Little, normal things in such an impossible situation.

I still can’t believe I’m actually holding her. My fingers tangle in her hair—the same dark, wavy strands that always swirl around her face in the dreams. I’m glad it’s not in the tight braid she was wearing earlier. She looks softer with it loose. Gentler. She still has a strong jaw, but it balances her wide eyes and full lips.

Back to her lips. I can’t stop staring at them.

Dude—not now!

I pour more water in her mouth, and this time she drinks faster. She downs the rest of the bottle, but she still hasn’t fully woken.

I scan the room for more water, freezing when she moans.

I set her head down and back against the farthest wall. I have no idea what will happen when she wakes up, but having some distance between us seems like a good idea. She may look gentle when she’s sleeping, but there was something in the way she carried herself earlier that I definitely don’t want to get on the wrong side of.

She moans again and rolls to her side. I glance at my door, hoping my parents haven’t heard. But I don’t have time to worry about it because the next second she jumps to her feet.

She wobbles, taking deep breaths as she squints at her hands. I can’t tell if she knows I’m there.

I clear my throat.

She tenses, then turns toward me, her face a mixture of fear and pain and uncertainty.

“What did you do to me?” she whispers.

“Wait—what? I didn’t do anything.”

She moves forward, wincing with each step. I try to back out of the way, but she’s quick—way too fast for someone who was just unconscious. She corners me. “What. Did. You. Do. To. Me?”

“I swear, I didn’t do anything.”

She grabs my shoulders, insanely strong for a girl her size. “I can feel it, Vane. What did you give me?”

Her voice is louder now—loud enough that my parents might be able to hear. But I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. I’m almost ready to call for help. Her nails cut through my shirt, digging into my skin.

I grab her wrists and try to pull her hands away, but she fights me. “Relax, okay? I gave you some water—that’s it.”

“Water?” Her arms go limp.

“Yeah.” I point to the empty bottle near her feet. “Just water. Nothing else.”

“Water,” she repeats, sinking to the floor.

I glance at the door, wondering if I should take my chance and run, get as far away from whatever she is as I can. But I can’t leave. Not after ten years of wondering about her, dreaming about her.