Something jarred him awake in the early morning hours. He shoved the lid off the box and sat up, stretching his senses.
Since that first evening when Remember had kissed Gabe’s blood from his mouth, Gabe had had a mental connection with Remember. Now it was tenuous—barely there.
Something was very wrong.
He scrambled to get out of the box, causing it to tip over, but he didn’t care. He seized his cloak and flung it around his shoulders.
The sun would be rising soon, but bugger that. Remember needed him.
Gabe pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and dashed up the stairs and out of the house. For the three days that the battle had raged, the weather had been fine. Now it was pouring rain, as if nature wept, mourning man’s actions.
And while there was no sunlight to roast him to a
