J.T. wasn’t sleeping.
He could feel them coming.
Even with Carolyn snuggled against his side, he couldn’t get warm, couldn’t shake the chill that sank its icy claws into him. He lay on his back in the darkness and stared at a ceiling hidden in darkness and shadow. Every so often, he’d see a flicker, a mote of muted light that were the only glimpses he’d ever managed to catch of Carolyn’s faery companions. They were quiet tonight, huddled close together as if they were terrified of what might be coming.
I can’t blame them.
His heart thudded leadenly against his breastbone and he wrapped an arm around Carolyn, hugging her a little closer to his side. She murmured something into his shoulder, snuggling closer. His eyes stung.
They’re coming.
He wasn’t sure how he knew who they were or why they were on their way, but the sense of dread that pressed down on him, threatened to suffocate him and made his chest and his head hurt—that told him all that he needed to know
It’s bad.
His lips brushed Carolyn’s temple and he slid out of bed, tucking blankets more tightly around her as he did. He dressed quickly in the darkness and pulled on his boots. All was quiet in the corridor for now, but that didn’t mean anything.
I wonder if this is what Thom and Marin feel like sometimes. He pulled on his coat and strapped on his claymore. There was going to be a fight. His gut told him as much.
He jerked open the door to find Rory standing in the darkness with a lantern in hand, his other hand raised to knock.
“Something’s up.” J.T. murmured.
Rory nodded, peering past him into the shadows. J.T. glanced over his shoulder, then met Rory’s gaze again.
“Let her sleep,” J.T. said, shutting the door behind him.
