“Hey,” he said calmly.
“Hi,” she croaked.
“You had me worried, I couldn’t rouse you. Come on, we’re making a move.” He sat up, taking her with him on account of her being wrapped around him like melted plastic. “We think they drank themselves unconscious. There hasn’t been any noise for over an hour.
The infected have dispersed with dawn coming. Streets are clear.”
“Okay.” Business. Right. She could talk business and peel herself off him at the same time. Hurrah for multi-tasking.
“Could it be a trap?” she asked, hand fumbling on the ground for her gun. Her gun. Shit. Her shotgun had been lost yesterday. She had loved her gun, stupidly enough. The rabbity heart squirmed in her chest.
“Here.” Daniel pressed a pistol into her hand before planting a kiss on her forehead. Reading her right. He was magic. “Good to go?”
“Absolutely.” She grabbed onto him, the human rock that he was. Used his greater weight to pull herself onto her knees and off Finn, whom she had no business being plastered over. “What’s the plan?”
“We run.” Daniel informed her with al due sincerity.
“Huh. One day soon can the plan involve a touch more complexity? Not that I’m complaining or anything.”
“Complain, you? Never. You’re a constant delight.”
Right before she could tel him how ful of it he was Daniel grinned and slid his hand behind her head. He drew her forward and sealed his lips to hers.
Firm lips and a wet warm mouth setting her head to spinning. The best medicine in the world.
He really was magic. And he still wanted her, his hunger right there, open and honest. A part of her had forgotten in all the confusion and fear of yesterday, but he was giving it back to her in spades, right when she needed it most.
God, I needed that.
“Anytime, anyplace,” Daniel murmured before letting her go, smirk firm on his face.
“I said that out loud?” she asked.
“Yes,” Finn confirmed. “You did.”
The man pulled on his pack, careful y setting the mended strap on his shoulder alongside the dressing covering his wound. The ripped neck of his t-shirt hung caked with dried blood.
He was a sublime mess. Sandy hair all untidy and stubble lining his elegant jaw took her breath away. Women attempting to cozy up to him would be no new thing, but she hadn’t woken up smeared over a stranger for years.
Or at least a couple of days.
Looking at him, it was easy to forget what he was capable of. The killing he had done had saved their lives. The debt she owed him was massive.
“I can take it for you.” She pointed at his backpack, tried for a smile of competence, though it probably fell short. “You should be careful with your shoulder.”
“Thanks, no. Pack’s pretty heavy. You keep yourself upright and moving. We’ll do great.” Finn made no eye contact, checked over his gun, tone curt, professional.
That told her. She pushed back her shoulders and drew a deep breath. Embarrassment oozed out of her pores.
“Finn, I’m really sorry I was all over you.”
“Relax, Al. I knew I was signing on as third wheel.”
Good. Great. So long as he wasn’t feeling used and abused because of her treating him like a couch. How had that come about anyway? The events of last night were fuzzy and distant in her battered head.
He glanced up, found her watching. His blank facial expression never changed. There was no chance of reading his thoughts. “How’s your headache?”
“It’s fine,” she replied coolly.
One brow rose. Perfectly.
She gave him a double thumbs-up, full of exuberance. Also jam-packed full of bul shit. “Upright and moving, no problem.”
“Real y? Because you look like Tokyo after going a few rounds with Godzilla.” The lovely jawline tensed, cop eyes staring her down.
“No offense intended.”
“None taken.” Her face throbbed and tingled and was numb all at once. Managing a smile was an exercise in slow and awkward.
“Interesting reference though with Godzilla and … I don’t think we can be friends, after al .”
A brow rose again in query. It was a neat trick. “You always run from a challenge?”
“Real y? You failed to notice that?”
A beatific grin split his face and her belly tumbled, the traitor. He was heavenly. Angels wished they could be so cool. “Why don’t we both make use of some of those pain killers?”
Finn eased the pack back off his bad shoulder, rifled around until he found aspirin and a bottle of water. He picked up two tablets with careful fingers. “Open.” She did. He popped them on her tongue, then unscrewed the bottle of water and held it out to her.
“Drink.”
She did. “Thanks.”
He gave a terse nod. “You’re welcome. Don’t worry about last night.”
“Then thank you, again.”
“Why are we always stopping and chatting when we should be moving our asses?” Daniel hissed from the front of the house.
“Let’s go.” Finn urged her forward with a hand. “Do your new friend a favor and try not to get shot crossing that bridge out there, okay?”
Her rabbit heart stuttered. “Yeah. Sure.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The quiet when they approached the old wooden railway bridge didn’t soothe Finn.
Fog and smoke made their world gray. With dawn, the smell of lingering fires cut the air. Fire evoked al sorts of shit he didn’t need to be dwelling on. Memories of the bombings down south cluttered up his head. There’d been so much death and destruction, innocent civilians leveled where they stood. Charred flesh had a particular, pungent smell he’d never forget. He concentrated on his elbows to stop the shaking in his hands, an old trick a detective had taught him. Finn had to clear his thoughts and focus on the job to hand.
It was not going wel .
The bridge would be tough, which sucked, seeing as it was their sole option. Heading back into the burnt remains of suburbia would be a death trap. They had to get across the river somehow.
Some enterprising little shit had trashed the stairs leading up to the fenced-in walkway that ran alongside the train track. To cross the bridge they would have to climb the hill and walk along the railway tracks. It would take longer. Time was at a minimum.
No one spoke.
The railway was perched atop a mound, built up a couple of meters above street level. They turned and made their way up the slope.