Rising Darkness (Game of Shadows #1)(53)

There was a pause. He drank coffee and watched the road. “How are you feeling?”

“Indescribable,” she said. She stretched and took a deep breath. “I feel clean and straight, like everything inside me has come right again, even things I didn’t know were damaged. This might sound funny, but I’ve defined myself through a sense of being injured or incomplete for so long that I’m not sure who I am without it.” After a pause, she said, “The dragon helped with my memory too.”

His gaze shot to her. “Do you remember any more about the past?”

She chose her words with care. “The dragon didn’t help bring back everything, but I remember bits and pieces. Some of my recurring dreams were from the life when I was wounded. What he really did was to help clarify everything. I understand better now some of the things that have happened. I suppose if I want any memories from other lives, I’ll have to work at retrieving them like you did.”

“Tell me.” She heard buried in his quiet voice a desperate hunger. “I need to know what happened.”

“I will,” she replied. Her voice was as hushed as his. “I promise. But I’m not going to have that conversation with you while we’re on the road.”

His mouth tightened, and he rubbed his forehead as if it hurt. “It’s too important to wait.”

Why did he feel such urgency? Was he close to remembering for himself? She didn’t want him to recover those memories when he was behind the wheel of the car.

“If that’s so, then we need to find a safe place to stop,” she said steadily. “We need real rest and real, nutritious food. I have no idea what happened to you before you caught up with me, but you had to have expended a lot of energy to find me.”

His reply was slow in coming. “I did.”

“I’m not surprised,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I need recovery time. I worked a twenty-six-hour ER shift, and after that, there’s been one crisis or epiphany after another. Half-hour naps on the run aren’t helping. Coffee isn’t doing a thing for me anymore. It’s just making my stomach hurt. My body has had the crap kicked out of it, I ache all over and I’ve had enough.”

He glanced at her in thoughtful assessment. She also didn’t like how he looked, but she didn’t mention that. A small vein throbbed at his temple. His gaze was too bright and somehow feverish, his expression stark. She wanted to put her fingers on his wrist and take his pulse.

“A game changer,” he muttered.

“What do you mean?”

“When you healed, you changed everything.” His chest moved as he took a deep breath. “We need to reunite with Astra before we fight him. We stand the strongest chance of winning if we’re all together. But you’re not traceable in the psychic realm any longer, and we’ve ditched your car. As long as nobody recognizes you, we can afford to pull off the main roads for a while.”

“We’ll both be better for it,” she said.

“Agreed.” Thoughts moved like shadows behind his eyes. “I know a place where we can stop. I go there as often as I can. It’s secluded and it should be safe enough. We can rest and talk there.”

“Are you still okay to drive? You look like you’re in pain.”

He covered her hand with his own larger one. “I’m fine. I just have a headache. No need to fuss.”

Her whole body reacted to his touch. She felt the rasp of calluses across the back of her knuckles, and she focused on the weight of his hand on hers. A self-conscious heat tinged her cheeks. She coughed. “If you think this is fussing, you don’t know fussing. This is self-preservation. I don’t want you to drive off the road. If I start fussing, you won’t be able to mistake it.”

A glint of amusement entered his overbright pewter gaze. “So you’re a talented fusser?”

“I have my moments,” she said.

“When can I get the full treatment?” he asked.

Her breath caught. Maybe she wriggled a little. “When do you want it?”

A slight smile eased the haggard lines of his face. He said, “Anytime you feel like starting.”

Slowly she turned her hand, underneath his, and the sensation of his skin sliding over her sensitive palm was so shockingly erotic, her heart started to pound. She whispered, “That’s a dangerous thing to say to someone who might have compulsive fussing tendencies.”

“A woman with a hint of danger.” His voice had deepened and turned rough. Moving his hand over hers, he rubbed her forefinger with his thumb. “That’s pretty hot.”

She thought, I am flirting with a man who wears a gun and knows how to use it.

That was just about as alien to her as, well, discovering she was an alien.

She had the impulse to remove her hand. She didn’t, but she did back away from the flirting. “Okay, maybe I am fussing a little,” she confessed, her voice turning serious. “I have things I need to tell you, and I’m concerned.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “That’s one of the reasons why I agreed to stop.”

She nodded, biting her lip. “How far away is this place where we’re going?”

“It’s about an hour away. We’ve got to go through Big Rapids first.”