7
Rue
I’m not sure how long we’re in the car for. Hours at the very least, though I do admit to sleeping most of the way. Once I make sure that Dryas has called the police and Interpol on the auction house, I can hardly stay awake.
It is so simple to burrow myself down into Dryas’s side, to take comfort in his warm presence, and to let my eyes grow heavy. I listen as he talks to his brother, feeling the vibration of his baritone voice, but I am barely aware of the words he says.
It’s the first sleep I’ve had without being knocked out in days. My dreams are full of strange not-quite-nightmares about being back in Sister Marguerite’s office, Father Derrik at my shoulder, about to whisper in my ear.
I startle myself awake, upset. But Dryas just drops his big hand on my leg once more, tet
