Chapter 2: The Stranger on Her Couch

Chapter 2: The Stranger on Her Couch

I sat on the floor and stared at the man bleeding on my couch.

This was officially the strangest Tuesday of my fucking life.

And considering the fact that I'd once found a raccoon sleeping inside the library's children's section, that was saying something.

I looked at the couch.

Then at him.

Then at the blood.

Then back at him.

'What the hell did I bring home?'

The question had been bothering me for the last hour.

It hadn't gotten any less terrifying.

I'd cleaned the wounds as best I could.

Gauze.

Antiseptic.

Tape.

Every clean towel in my apartment.

My first-aid kit had been designed for paper cuts and stupid kitchen accidents, not for treating a man who looked like he'd been mauled by a pack of monsters before I hit him with a car.

It wasn't enough.

It couldn't possibly be enough.

And yet...

Something was changing.

I leaned closer.

His breathing was different.

When I'd dragged him inside, every breath had been shallow and uneven. I'd honestly expected him to stop breathing at any moment.

Now his chest rose slowly.

Deeply.

Steadily.

I watched it.

Rise.

Fall.

Rise.

Fall.

'That's not normal.'

I put two fingers against his neck again.

His pulse was strong.

Steady.

Almost annoyingly so.

"Okay," I whispered. "That's... good."

Probably.

I wasn't a doctor.

I wasn't even particularly good at first aid.

But a pulse like that seemed like a good sign.

Then I noticed his side.

I stopped.

"No."

I leaned closer.

The wound I'd bandaged wasn't just bleeding less.

It was closing.

I stared at it.

Then blinked.

Then stared harder.

'No fucking way.'

The edges of the wound were drawing together beneath the dried blood.

Slowly.

So slowly that I could almost convince myself I was imagining it.

Except I wasn't.

The skin moved.

Barely.

But it moved.

I shifted closer until my knees touched the couch.

The injury had been deep enough that I'd expected stitches.

Possibly surgery.

Possibly an ambulance.

Possibly a morgue.

Now the ragged edges were sealing themselves.

I swallowed.

"People don't do that."

He didn't answer.

Of course he didn't.

He was unconscious.

I sat back against the coffee table and rubbed both hands over my face.

I'd hit a stranger with my car.

Dragged him home.

Cleaned his wounds.

And now I was watching him heal like I'd accidentally brought home a very large, very illegal medical experiment.

'Fan-fucking-tastic.'

I looked at my front door.

Then the couch.

Then the door again.

'Call the police.'

Easy.

Simple.

Responsible.

I reached for my phone.

Stopped.

What exactly was I going to tell them?

Hi, I hit a giant man in Blackwood.

Okay.

Then what?

There were several other giant things running through the forest.

One was carrying what looked like a body.

My victim has apparently decided that human biology is optional.

Please send someone.

I could already imagine the expression on the dispatcher's face.

"Maybe I should just call an ambulance."

I stared at the man.

The bleeding had almost stopped.

His breathing was normal.

His skin was still too hot.

And the wound was closing.

'An ambulance would take one look at him and ask questions I couldn't answer.'

I put the phone down.

"Shit."

Outside, something howled.

I jumped so hard my shoulder hit the coffee table.

The sound rolled through the night.

Long.

Low.

Mournful.

Another howl answered from farther away.

Then another.

My eyes went to the window.

'Those are not dogs.'

I knew that.

I didn't know what they were.

But they weren't dogs.

The man on the couch moved.

My whole body went rigid.

His fingers twitched.

His jaw tightened.

I stopped breathing.

"You're not awake, are you?"

His eyes stayed closed.

I waited.

Nothing.

His fingers relaxed.

I slowly exhaled.

"Good."

I looked at the clock.

1:47 a.m.

I'd been awake for hours.

My apartment smelled like antiseptic, blood, damp clothing, and pine.

My hoodie was ruined.

My couch was ruined.

My Tuesday was spectacularly ruined.

And the giant stranger was still breathing on my furniture.

I got up and paced once across the living room.

Then back.

'Police.'

I looked at the phone.

'No.'

'Hospital.'

I looked at him.

'Definitely no.'

'Leave him.'

I stared at the front door.

That thought lasted maybe two seconds.

'No.'

I hated that answer.

But I couldn't leave him.

Not after I'd already dragged him this far.

At 2:03, I noticed the bleeding had stopped completely.

I crouched beside him.

The towel beneath his side was stained dark red.

But no fresh blood.

I carefully lifted the edge.

My mouth went dry.

The wound was closed.

Not completely.

There was still a thin pink line where the injury had been.

But it looked like something that had happened days ago.

Not an hour ago.

I reached out.

My fingertips touched his skin.

Warm.

Too warm.

"What are you?"

His hand closed around my wrist.

I nearly screamed.

His eyes opened.

Amber.

Bright fucking amber.

For one impossible second I couldn't move.

His eyes weren't brown.

They weren't hazel.

They were amber.

And the light from the lamp seemed to catch in them strangely, making them look almost animal.

Then his grip loosened.

"Easy."

His voice was deep.

Rough.

The sound seemed to scrape against something in my chest.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

I stared at him.

My heart was trying to punch its way out.

"You were unconscious."

"I noticed."

"You were bleeding."

"I noticed that too."

"You healed."

His eyes flicked toward his side.

Then back to me.

"Apparently."

I stared at him.

'That's your answer? Apparently?'

His hand was still near my wrist.

He released me completely.

"Sorry."

That somehow made everything worse.

I pulled my arm back.

"Who are you?"

He didn't answer.

I stood.

"You ran in front of my car."

"I was being chased."

"By what?"

Silence.

My patience was already wearing thin.

"I found you in the middle of Blackwood. There were other things running through the trees. You were bleeding all over the road. I had to drag you into my car because the damn phone wouldn't work."

His eyes sharpened.

"How many?"

I paused.

"What?"

"How many did you see?"

His voice had changed.

No rough amusement now.

No tiredness.

Just attention.

"Three."

I hesitated.

"Maybe four."

His body went completely still.

I noticed.

Every muscle seemed to tighten.

"What?"

He didn't answer.

I folded my arms.

"One of them was carrying something."

His eyes snapped to mine.

"What?"

"It looked like a person."

His jaw tightened.

"I couldn't see clearly."

"Where?"

"In the forest."

"What direction?"

I pointed toward the window.

"That way."

He stared at the window.

For several seconds, he didn't say anything.

I watched his face.

Whatever I'd just told him mattered.

A lot.

"Who are they?"

Nothing.

"Are they looking for you?"

His eyes remained on the window.

"I don't know."

That was a lie.

I knew it immediately.

Maybe he didn't know exactly who they were.

But he knew enough to be afraid of them.

He pushed himself upright.

I instinctively stepped back.

He noticed.

His expression changed.

Not anger.

Something closer to concern.

He slowed down.

"I won't hurt you."

"I know."

The words came out before I could stop them.

I didn't know why I'd said them.

Maybe because if he wanted to hurt me, he'd had plenty of opportunities.

He could have killed me when I touched him.

Instead, he'd let go.

He looked around my apartment.

His eyes moved over the tiny kitchen.

The cheap furniture.

The peeling paint near the window.

The stack of library books on the floor.

Then back to me.

"You live alone?"

"Yes."

His gaze lingered on me.

"What's your name?"

"Ava."

He repeated it quietly.

"Ava."

Something about the way he said it made my stomach tighten.

Then he looked away.

"Kael."

"Just Kael?"

"Just Kael."

I waited.

He clearly wasn't going to volunteer anything else.

"Okay."

Another howl sounded outside.

Kael's head turned toward the window immediately.

His expression hardened.

"You shouldn't have brought me here."

I folded my arms.

"You were bleeding to death."

"I wasn't."

"You were unconscious."

"I've been worse."

I stared at him.

"That is not reassuring."

The corner of his mouth moved.

Almost a smile.

Almost.

I pointed toward his side.

"That wound should have killed you."

"It didn't."

"Yes, I'm aware."

He looked at me.

"You should have left me."

"Well, I didn't."

"I noticed."

There was something different in his voice this time.

He looked down at the bandages.

Then at me.

"Why?"

I shrugged.

"Because I don't leave people to die on roads."

He kept looking at me.

I shifted uncomfortably.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're staring."

"I know."

"That's creepy."

"Probably."

Despite myself, I almost smiled.

Then he asked, "Even if they're dangerous?"

I looked at him.

He was huge.

Covered in scars.

Covered in blood.

He had eyes that apparently changed color.

He healed from injuries that should have put him in a hospital.

And somehow...

"No."

His eyebrow lifted.

"No?"

"You don't look dangerous."

The silence afterward was spectacular.

Then he laughed.

It was quiet.

Low.

Real.

"That's probably the nicest thing anyone has said to me in years."

I stared at him.

"That wasn't a compliment."

"It sounded like one."

"It wasn't."

"I'll take it anyway."

I looked at his wound.

Then at his face.

"You don't heal like a normal person."

"No."

"Are you going to explain that?"

"No."

"Fantastic."

He leaned back against the couch.

"You should forget what you saw tonight."

"The forest?"

"Everything."

His voice had changed again.

This time there was no humor.

"Lock your doors. Stay away from Blackwood after dark. If you hear something outside, don't investigate."

I frowned.

"You keep saying things like that as if people are supposed to understand them."

"They aren't."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Stay alive."

The words were quiet.

Flat.

No dramatic pause.

No attempt to frighten me.

That made them worse.

I stared at him.

"Are you human?"

Silence.

Kael looked directly at me.

"Does it matter?"

"Considering the whole healing thing? Yes."

His mouth curved faintly.

"You ask a lot of questions."

"You give terrible answers."

"I've noticed."

I smiled despite myself.

Then something cracked outside.

My smile disappeared.

I turned toward the window.

"Did you hear that?"

Kael was already looking in the same direction.

Another sound.

Closer.

Then—

CRASH!

The living-room window exploded inward.

I screamed.

Glass flew across the room.

I threw my arms over my head.

Something moved through the shattered window.

I barely had time to see it.

Kael moved.

One second he was beside the couch.

The next he was standing directly in front of me.

His body blocked the window.

Blocked everything.

I stared at his back.

His shoulders were enormous.

Every muscle had tightened.

"Stay behind me."

I swallowed.

"What the hell is that?"

He didn't answer.

Something moved outside.

Heavy.

Slow.

A wet growl crawled through the darkness.

My stomach twisted.

Footsteps.

They circled the building.

One.

Then another.

Kael's shoulders tightened.

"Do not open that door."

"What the hell is that?"

"Don't."

The lights outside flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Then everything went black.

My apartment disappeared into darkness.

I couldn't see Kael anymore.

I could hear him breathing.

I could hear something scraping against the outside wall.

Slowly.

Closer.

Closer.

My hands started shaking.

Then Kael reached behind him.

His hand found mine.

His fingers closed around it.

Warm.

Steady.

Protective.

He didn't turn around.

"Whatever happens next..."

The scraping reached the broken window.

Stopped.

I could hear breathing outside.

Right there.

Only a few feet away.

Kael tightened his grip around my hand.

"...do not run."

I stared into the darkness.

Something breathed beside the broken window.

Deep.

Wet.

Hungry.

Kael's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Stay with me."

I squeezed his hand.

I didn't know what was outside.

I didn't know what Kael was.

I didn't know why the things in Blackwood wanted him.

But I knew one thing.

I wasn't alone anymore.

And somehow, that scared me more than being alone ever had.