Page 182 of Where the Snakes Sleep

Henri stares up at him, defiance flickering in his eyes. “Do not speak to me like a subject.” Henri’s glare could curdle blood.

“Where the hell are the police?” Camille mutters.

Suddenly, blue pulses of light flicker between the trees—once, then twice. Sirens waver on the wind, distant but unmistakable. My knees wobble.

“They’re here.”

Camille exhales, tension draining from his shoulders. Henri’s eyes widen. He tries to push himself up, but his body fails him, and he collapses back into the chair. “Camille.” For the first time, there’s no mockery in his voice. No command. Just fear.

Camille leans down, hand on Henri’s shoulder. “I know you’re afraid.”

Henri closes his eyes.

The sirens climb to a howl. Camille crouches next to Henri, as cautious as a doctor with a broken patient. I sink onto the sofa, legs too weak to hold me. My hands shake on my lap.

I stare at them—these same hands that chose violence. I replay the moments I’d rather forget—the needle puncturing skin, the plunger giving way, Henri’s face in shock and betrayal.

“Ryan.” Camille’s voice is gentle but insistent.

“I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

Neither is Henri. He lies perfectly still, breathing shallowly until even that fades away.

Camille reaches out, checks Henri’s pulse, then sits back, eyes meeting mine. “He’s gone.”

Sirens roar directly outside now. I rise, vertigo rippling through my skull. Camille stands too, and for a heartbeat we hold each other upright, neither sure who’s supporting whom.

“I love you too,” I murmur, digging my fingers into his jacket.

He freezes, gaze flicking to mine. The man who told me he loved me, who marched toward death with a calm smile—he’s the only one keeping me anchored now.

I shove gently against him, and he embraces me, arms locking around my back so firmly it hurts. I bury my face in his chest, breathing against the fabric of his shirt.

“You fucking asshole,” I curse.

His breath catches in my hair. “I know.”

“You left me.”

“I know.”

“You told me you loved me and then you left me.”

“I know.”

“That was psychotic.”

“I was trying to keep you alive.”

“So was I.”

His arms hug me tighter. “I noticed.”

I pull back a fraction to glare up at him. “You don’t get to be mad at me.”

“I am absolutely furious with you.”