The Lost Souls (The Holy Trinity #2.5)(13)

Nico was not going to let that happen.

He was determined to make his wife love him. Although, seeing as how it was a fight just to get her to perform her marital obligations to him, he didn’t foresee this as an easy task by any means.

Sighing, Nico swung his long legs out of bed and ran his hands through his long brown hair. He knew he was obsessing, but he was trapped in this camp. They were all trapped here and it was because of that, their self-imposed prison, that he feared the worst would happen. Caged humans were no better off than caged animals.

After dressing, bundling up in his winter outerwear, he paused by the door to glance at his wife and daughter.

“Te iubesc,” he said quietly, hoping this time she’d say it back.

Becki’s eyes lifted from the baby to him and she gave him a small smile, the last thing he wanted. “Stay warm,” she murmured, running her fingertips up and down Michaela’s cheek.

Feeling defeated, Nico left his trailer and headed into the center of their camp to seek out breakfast. Shoving his hands into his pockets and keeping his head down against the cold winds, he trudged through the nearly knee-deep snow. “Winter needs to f*cking end already,” he muttered. His clan had traveled a lot, and throughout their travels had seen some pretty hellish winters, but this one took the cake. It was if it wasn’t enough that civilization had been all but erased and the constant threat of dying at the hands of fanged lunatics loomed around every corner. No, the weather had to go crazy on them as well.

Nearing the food tent, Nico found Xan seated beside the camp’s large communal fire pit, smoking a cigarette and brooding as usual. With his shoulders hunched, frate’s long black dreads hung heavy around his face. How in the hell was he not freezing to death?

“Wat up?” Nico said, punching his friend in the arm as he passed by.

“Your kid,” Xan shot back irritably. “And because of her, the entire f*cking camp is up.”

Shaking his head, Nico ducked inside the food tent. He should be grateful for what he had—whether Becki loved him or not. Xan had lost everything that ever meant anything to him. Who knew what had become of Trinity after Marko had decided to add “become the biggest dick that ever was” to his resumé. More than likely she was dead, and Xan was alone, miserable, wishing he could turn back the clock and rewrite history. Xan had never said the words, but Nico knew him well enough, could see the longing in the man’s eyes. The longing and the guilt.

Speaking of guilt, he was feeling pretty damn guilty himself all of a sudden. Xan no longer had the woman he loved but Nico did. And in this hellish new world they were all trying to survive in, he should be grateful for that, not wallowing in what might happen or wishing for more.





Chapter Eight


Carrie was having the best dream ever. She was floating on a cloud, surrounded by hot, silky water that warmed her cold, chapped skin and soothed her aching muscles.

How long had it been since she’d had a hot bath? It felt like years.

Maybe she was dead? Maybe this was heaven, and heaven came with hot baths and…

Ugh. She felt sick. Her stomach was still empty. This couldn’t be heaven.

Blinking, Carrie opened her eyes and stared down her body, her naked body, and into the dirty water she was currently soaking in. The dirty, yet very hot water!

Startled, she sat up quickly, sloshing water over the edge of the bathtub.

“Hey, calm down,” a deep booming voice said.

Totally freaked out, she shrieked as she skittered backward in the bathtub.

“Fat?, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m the one who just saved your stupid ass from hypothermia.”

Carrie blinked up at the voice and found a large bearded man seated on the bathroom counter, watching her. What? Where was she? And who the heck was he?

“I’m naked,” she mumbled, trying to cover herself. Feeling confused, she tried to sort through her muddled thoughts. She’d been hungry; she remembered that much. She was still hungry. Hungry and aching and exhausted.

“Yeah, well, your clothes were soaked straight through so I hung them up. Thought you might like some dry ones.”

“I’m naked,” she repeated, this time with more force, hoping the man would take a hint and leave her alone.

His heavy brow lifted, and the look on his face suggested he didn’t understand why she thought her nudity was a problem. Even though she wasn’t a fan of strange men seeing her naked, it wasn’t her biggest, most immediate problem. She felt sick, the awful feeling growing worse with each passing second.

“I’m naked,” she murmured, feeling slightly dizzy. Her vision blurred and against her will, her body slumped down in the bathtub.

She heard cursing, then felt hands on her, lifting her, and arms wrapping around her. The cold air hit Carrie’s heated body like a smack in the face, and her eyes flew open as her skin shriveled under the onslaught. Then, just as suddenly, she was warm again, encased in something soft, and soon, she felt herself drifting off to sleep.



Curled up on a small sofa in front of a blazing fire in the man’s trailer, Carrie threw up the first two bowls of broth the man gave her. Just as she thought she was going to lose the third, her stomach finally began to settle and her dizziness subsided. Her strength, however, was far from renewed. She continued sleeping on and off, and each time she awoke, the man was always there with more soup and water.