Blood From a Silver Cross (Kat Redding) by E.S. Moore

arm to lift myself into a sitting position. My head was still swimming horribly and I was forced to lean back against the tile to steady myself. Standing was completely out of the question.
    I blindly reached out and turned off the shower. The water was still hot, meaning my attack hadn’t lasted long, though it felt as if it had taken a lifetime.
    “Here.”
    I opened one eye. Jeremy was holding a towel out to me. He was looking the other way.
    “Thanks,” I said, taking the towel from him. I draped it across my legs and chest and crossed my arms over it to keep it in place.
    Jeremy glanced at me and, noting that I was covered, turned to face me once again. “I heard you scream,” he said. I was surprised to hear how much worry was in his voice.
    “I’m okay,” I said, though I was far from it. I knew what had happened. It pissed me off to no end. I wasn’t sure how much Jeremy knew of Ethan’s demon, so I wasn’t about to explain things to him. I didn’t want to scare him away.
    Jeremy licked his lips and sat back on his heel. He wiped his hand down his face to sluice away most of the water. Droplets dripped from his hair onto his shirt, which clung appealingly against his chest.
    God, I must have hit my head harder than I thought.
    “I thought someone had gotten in somehow,” he said. “Christ.” He laughed shakily. “I thought you were dying.”
    “I’m fine.” I took hold of the faucet and used it to leverage my way to my feet. I swayed a moment before steadying. “But I have to talk to Ethan. Now.”
    Jeremy rose with me. He kept looking at me and then looking away. It took me a moment to realize I’d loosened my grip on my towel. It had been hanging down around my waist and the poor were had no idea where to look.
    “Help me out,” I said, reaching out a hand. I wasn’t going to be embarrassed by my nudity. He was a werewolf; he should be used to that sort of thing by now.
    Jeremy hesitated a moment before taking my hand. He kept his eyes averted, which was actually sort of endearing. The poor kid was embarrassed and trying damn hard not to let it show.
    My legs were weak and shaky, but I was able to step over the lip of the tub and out onto the floor without falling. Now that the pain had passed and I was able to move again, anger was starting to creep in. I could have cracked my skull in there. I could have drowned. The fucking demon had probably planned it that way.
    “Do you need me to stay?” Jeremy asked. “I can wait outside if you need me to help you downstairs.”
    “I’ll be okay,” I said. “I just need a few minutes to get changed and I’ll be down.”
    Jeremy nodded, but didn’t leave right away. He looked into my face, studied me as if trying to decide if I were really okay. I forced a smile and that seemed to do it for him. He turned and walked out of the bathroom, though I did notice him glance back over his shoulder once before he was gone. I wasn’t sure if that last gaze was to check on me or to check me out. I was flattered either way.
    The bedroom door closed a moment later, leaving me alone in the privacy of my room. My entire body ached as I dried off. The mark behind my ear was throbbing now and the scar on my back had flared up during the attack. My fingers were tingling oddly and I had a sudden fear that something worse had happened while I’d been suffering, something permanent.
    I shook off the thought. There was no use dwelling on it. If I didn’t get better by the time I was done with Beligral, I’d break the demon’s goddamned neck.
    Once dry, I grabbed clean underwear, a pair of jeans, and a T-shirt and pulled them on. My boots were downstairs and still wet, so I snatched a dirty pair of tennis shoes out of the closet and slipped them on. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself before leaving my room.
    Jeremy was waiting for me in the dining room. He watched me, face full of concern, but didn’t rush over to help when I swayed on the bottom step.