Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)(122)

“Lucky for you, I didn’t,” Asa said. “Anyway, do what you want with it. I imagine you don’t want the cops to see everything on it, especially that weird shit with the slave soldiers, but you guys can work that out for yourselves. I’m gone.”

The van surged forward. The red taillights retreated into the dripping greenery.

Zade’s van pulled out next. She glimpsed Hannah’s pale, exhausted face in the window of the passenger seat as they exchanged weary waves. Then Mark’s big truck rolled away, driven by Sisko.

“Do you have a vehicle here?” she asked Noah.

He squinted against the light. “No,” he said. “We came with Sisko and Zade. And they all just left.”

They gazed after the disappearing taillights, and Caro began to laugh. “Oh, man,” she said. “That is funny. We do battle with the forces of evil, avoid death by a hair, ransom our lives back from the pits of hell . . . and forget to arrange a ride home.”

“My fault.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said quickly, before he could. “Why is it your job to think of everything?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Because it is?”

“Not anymore. Welcome to the new world order.” She tugged his arm. “The emergency getaway car you guys hid for me is thataway.” She pointed. “I’d say maybe less than a mile if we cut straight through the woods.”

He stared at the thick forest. “And if we take the road?”

“Much longer. Obviously, we can’t hitchhike. No cars.”

“And if there were . . .” He looked down at his briefs like he just realized that’s all he was wearing. “I wouldn’t stop for myself.”

“What happened to your clothes?”

He coughed, rackingly. “The soldier who picked me up after the drone shot me took them. He was packing me up for transport.” He stumbled again.

She hurried to wrap her arm around him. “Can you walk? Where are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Just sore. And having an adrenaline crash. Food would help. Or lying around in bed for a few weeks with you. Naked.”

“Do you ever not think along those lines, Noah? I mean, you’re barefoot, and your feet are bleeding. Stop. Sit down.”

“I’m not going back in that place,” he said.

“Then go sit over there, by those birches. You can sit on that big one that fell. I’ll hike to the car and come back for you.”

“No,” he said forcefully. “I’m not taking my eyes off you ever again. For the rest of my life. My feet will be fine.”

Her face went so hot, the cold, misty rain against her face felt good.

He probably didn’t really need her to hold onto him. Still, she had no way of knowing if he was injured internally. He wouldn’t admit to so much as a twinge of pain.

So she walked with him to the clump of birches, taking everything she saw, from the dark gray clouds that hung heavy and swollen to the rustling patter of rain and the earthy sweetness that it released from the forest floor. The swish and murmur of wind in the firs, the raindrops glittering on every leaf, twig and pine needle, each detail was jewel sharp and clear. The forest around them was infinitely deep, growing deeper every second as her senses opened and merged with it. And Noah’s eyes had that thrilling amber glow that made her heart quicken and her thighs quiver.

Amber? Suddenly, it dawned on her. “Noah. You’re outside in daylight, with no shield lenses or even any shield specs on.”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “I know.”

“And are you—I mean, is the AVP—”

“It’s running hot, but I’m OK. It’s not driving me crazy, for some reason. I’m fine. I still can’t believe it. You’re alive. We’re all alive. We did it. Holy shit, Caro.” His voice cracked, and he pulled her into his arms “That was so f*cking close.”

God, it felt so good to hold him. Pleasure and relief shuddered through her body. He was so warm and strong, and his tender grip was just what she craved. The love, the care, the belonging.

She cupped the back of his head and kissed him. He tasted coppery and hot. And beneath that, there was the essence of him, the feel of him. Lithe and vital and strong. Still here. Still hers.

She realized that she was crying only when Noah began kissing the tears from her cheeks. He rested his forehead against hers, swaying slightly. Unsteady on his feet.

“You’re hurting,” she said.

He flinched as he dragged in a painful breath. “It’s nothing.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said. “Just let me take care of you for once. Please.”

“I’m fine, and I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he said stubbornly. He ignored her outstretched hand as he lowered himself onto the fallen birch.

She sat down beside him, resting a hand on the white bark stippled with black. He covered it with his, adjusting his position with another subtle flinch of pain.

He stared blankly at the birch trees for a few moments. He looked exhausted. “You know, when I was a kid, I used to think those black lines were writing that I couldn’t read.”

“Maybe it is,” she said. “And you know what? I thought the same thing.”

“Yeah. Well . . . Caro,” he began. “Guess this is as good a time as any for us to talk. I have to say something to you. Before I lose my nerve.”