Tremble by Addison Moore

t-shirt. Same huge room as Logan’s with a shelving unit eating up an entire wal —half as many books.
    I’m so exhausted. I don’t think twice before crawling onto his bed. Logan and Gage sit on either side of me and stare down with their inquisitiveness. Gage had already briefed Logan about the mystery man as soon as we arrived at the house.
    “Stay away from him next time you see him,” Logan warns.
    “Who is he? A Fem?” I pul up on my elbows.
    “Too helpful.” He shakes his head. “He found you in the ocean? Too knowledgeable to be a Count. Sounds like he could be a Sector.”
    “Sector,” I whisper. Sectors are confusing as hel . They’ve been known to take bribes from the Countenance. They sick the Fems on you to do their dirty work. “What does a Sector want with me?”
    “I don’t have a clue.”
    “If they’re the overlords of the angel armies, aren’t they benevolent or something?”
    “Some are good, some wicked. I doubt you have a good one on your hands.” Logan assures me.
    “He looked so nice,” I say, a little out of breath.
    “Yeah, wel ,” Gage and Logan exchange glances. “They tend to masquerade as angels of light.”
    “I don’t think you should go anywhere without Gage.” He looks mournful at the thought. “Or me if you have to,” Logan says.
    “You?” A rush of adrenaline surges through me.

    “Yes.”
    “I thought you were off limits. You know, to keep me out of danger.” I shift in his direction.
    “You’re already in danger.”

    Chapter Nineteen

    Hel o

    I’ve never felt a more comfortable bed then when I final y sink into my own. My ankles feel as though they’ve been twisted, cracked off at the base and glued back on. My neck is kil ing me. I can’t ful y turn my head to the left.
    I managed to omit the finer details of my injuries to Dr. Oliver, like the fact I think a partial paralysis seems almost inevitable which reminds me to never go along with Gage and his insane ideas again. Diving during a storm? Who am I kidding, Gage could take me diving in quick sand, and I’d probably go. I’m a victim of those watery blue eyes and the way he smiles without moving his lips.
    A soft glow emanates through my closed lids. My eyes launch open. Reflexively, I part my lips to scream, but a hand clamps over my mouth.
    It’s him—the boy from the water. Floating—hovering over my bed. His skin is eerily translucent. I can see the frame of my canopy right through his back. A strange incandescent light radiates from him, il uminating him from the inside like a jack o’ lantern. He gives a spectacular smile, and his teeth pierce the dark like a detonating burst of sunshine. It hurts my eyes just to look at him.
    “I won’t harm you.”
    I’m in the prime position to kick him in the bal s, but somehow I already know it’s useless. Strength, running, none of it wil help me now. If I threw myself out the window, I’m sure he’d appear next to me on the ground.
    He removes his hand from my mouth with caution.
    I scoot up in the bed and lean the back of my head into the wal so hard I think I’m going to push through.
    “My name’s Marshal .” He sits opposite me and tones down his brightness, so I can see him without going blind.
    “And?” I’m sure smal talk is not high on the list of priorities.
    “I’ve been dying to meet you.”
    “So you can kil me?” I don’t appreciate his play on words.
    He gives a convincing smile. There’s a way about him. I can feel his tension as though he wants something from me, but doesn’t know how to get it.
    “I’m not going to kil you. I’l always tel you the truth.” The smile melts off his face. “But I think you owe me a bit of gratitude.”
    “Thank you.” I scan the vicinity for something to hit him with, not that it would help.
    “Mmm.” His features darken. He’s sharply handsome in an untrustworthy way. “You don’t seem very grateful.”
    “Let’s move this along because I have class in the