Angel Blood

41- Restless

I wake to gentle fingers prodding my bicep and I shrink away, my other arm reaching for Sinclair.

Except the space next to me is empty. Cold concrete doesn't rest beneath me anymore. Something plushy and soft bounces under me instead, squeaking noisily as I jolt upright.

I blink bleariness away from my eyes, taking in the small bedroom around me. The walls are a warm brown, a desk sitting in the corner in front of a large window. A nightstand rests beside the old mattress I sprawl over, medical supplies spread haphazardly across its surface.

"Theo," a voice calls loudly beside me. I startle, taking in the girl crouched next to the bed with caramel-colored skin and a head of dark, untamed curls beside me with wide eyes. "She's awake."

"Who are you?" I say, wincing as the words scratch my throat.

"Alyse," she says, rising to her feet and offering me a glass of water on the table beside her. "Here."

I take it and offer her a look that I hope appears grateful before greedily swallowing down nearly the entire glass. She reaches for me and I flinch back so abruptly that water sloshes out of my cup and dampens the front of the unfamiliar nightgown I adorn.

"Don't touch me," I say quickly, then remember that she's only trying to help me. I think.

"I need to change out your bandages," she says, gesturing at the red-stained mass of gauze and medical tape that makes up my right arm. "You know, so you don't get an infection and die?"

"Where is he?" I say, scooting back out of her reach.

She squints at me and I realize her eyes are so dark that they almost appear black. "Where's who?"

I stare at her. "Sinclair?"

She makes a sound of frustration, blowing out air from her nose as she stands. "Theodore!" she calls, heading for the door behind her. "I swear to god, if you don't—"

The door creaks open and a sheepish dimple-filled grin peeks through the crack. "You called?"

"Theo?" I blink at him. "Where are we?"

"In my house," Alyse answers for him, although her eyes stay on Theo in an irritated glower. "Do you plan on bringing back any more unconscious strangers or is this the only one?"

Theo winces, opening up the door far enough to step inside before closing it behind him. "You're angry," he says, reaching out to run a hand over her hair. "I get that."

I stare at the movement with raised eyebrows. Huh. Interesting.

"Who's this Sinclair?" she asks him, the fury in her voice palpable, yet she doesn't bat away his touch.

"My...boss."

"How is he?" I interject.

"Uh," he says, glancing at Alyse warily. "Out of commission."

She narrows her eyes into a terrifyingly fierce gaze. "Meaning?"

I second her question with my own expectant glare.

"Okay," Theo says, looking oddly nervous. The expression is strange on his face. Even against the angel bloods, he didn't appear this worried. "I think everyone needs to calm down."

"Calm down?" She gestures to me. "There's a strange woman bleeding all over my bed. There's a man who looks like he sells drugs in my kitchen. And you," she takes a step forward, jabbing a finger in his chest, "won't tell me shit."

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

I suppress a surprised giggle. I've never seen Theo bested by anyone before—not even Sinclair.

"Nothing to say, huh?" She crosses her arms over her chest and I shift uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like I'm eavesdropping on something personal. "Aren't you going to tell me who she is at least?"

Theo glances at me, then back at her. "A friend."

"A friend," she echoes, laughing humorlessly. "Do you fuck this friend too?"

"Whoa there," I interrupt. "I fuck his boss. You know, like, exclusively."

She glances at me. "Is he the one that did that to you?" She looks pointedly at the wound stretching over half of my arm.

The idea of Sinclair carving me up is so preposterous that a baffled laugh slips past my lips. "Oh no, that was—" The words die on my tongue at the look of warning on Theo's face. Then it dawns on me. "Oh. You're human, aren't you?"

Alyse considers me as if I've grown a third head. "What kind of question is that?"

"Uh." I look at Theo for help, but he's scrubbing a weary hand over his face again. "I don't know. Maybe I hit my head too? Like a concussion or...something."

She turns back to Theo. "You're part of a gang, aren't you?"

I can feel the tension slowly rising in the air again so I stand up despite the unsteady wobble of my legs. "Okay," I say, dusting the wrinkles out of my gray cotton nightie and hobbling to the door. I pat Theo on the shoulder on my way out. "I'm gonna go now. Good luck out there, soldier."

He shoots me an uncharacteristically exasperated glare and I merely pat his back again and shut the door behind me.

I freeze almost immediately as my fingers leave the doorknob as I take in my surrounding. In front of me is a living room, and just past that, the kitchen. A familiar large form leans against the counter.

"Sin..?" I start, then look a little harder. It's Sinclair, but...not. His face is the tiniest bit wider, his hair sheered closely to his head.

He's still brutally handsome. The dark eyes the same, the full slope of his lips, the sharp jaw and cheekbones. All an exact copy. But he's not my Sinclair.

He straightens as he notices my presence, tucking a hand into his faded gray jeans. A frown pulls at his mouth. "You're Calli."

Even the rich, velvety croon of his voice is eerily similar. I shiver, wrapping my arms around my midsection, unable to muster up any other response aside from a terse nod.

"Huh," he says, raking his eyes down my body. Less as if he's checking me out, but more like he's taking me in, just as I'm doing to him. "Guess it's nice to meet you. I'm Sam."

I figured as much. I guess I'd be more excited to meet Sin's brother under different circumstances. "Where is he?"

His lips thin. "Take a seat." He gestures to the small table with two wooden stools in front of him.

"I'd rather not." I don't try to sit, but I do move across the open space so I stand on the far end of the kitchen, keeping a few feet between us as I stand against the wall. "Can I see him?"

He grimaces. "No."

My fingers ball at my sides. How dare they take me away from him? Theo knew I wanted to be there for him when he wakes.

I owe him that much. He's sacrificed everything for me, and part of my soul rages without having him by my side. Almost as if the broken bind has seeped into my very essence despite the fact that the magic tethering my life to his is gone.

"Why?" I grate. "At least let me see how he is."

"Because," Samuel says, his jaw clenching as he glances away from me and intently stares at the tiled floor beneath our feet, "he's dead, Calli."