Page 59 of Blood Lovers

Ryet coughs. I turn and look at him. “Ryet?” And when I turn back to the demon, he’s gone.

For the second time in as many minutes I sit straight up in bed, suddenly awake, my body nothing but sweat, my hair sticking to my face. I glance down at the bed, looking for Ryet, but he’s not there.

Then I let out a breath of relief. Dreams. That’s all they were. Just dreams.

“Sorry.”

I almost scream when I hear Ryet’s voice coming from the doorway to the bathroom. I just barely manage to hold it in. But my hand flies to my chest, like I’m trying to prevent my heart from bursting out.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He coughs again. He is sick. That was real. But the rest of it?

What the hell just happened?

He’s your hunter.

He’s dying.

What will you do about it?

But there’s more. That first dreamwalk—the woman—me? Oh, God, what have I done?

Ryet and I didn’t even use protection. Why am I so fucking stupid? How did I let this happen?

I get out of bed, realize I’m naked, and hastily pull on my underwear and shirt. I’m just about to reach for my jeans, pull on my boots, and get the fuck out of here so I can call Zusi and Tristin and…

But I stop. Because Ryet is so sick, he’s propping himself up against the wall. His face is so pale, so sickly, I hold my breath for a moment trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. He begins to stumble forward, forcing me to blink out of my stupor when he almost falls and I literally have to catch him and lead him over to the bed.

“Ryet, what’s wrong?” My tone is serious. But my voice also trembles.

That demon was lying. It was a dream, that’s all. Just a dream. But then, for some unknown reason, my eyes wander over to the analog clock above the door and find the little hand is on the eleventh hour and the big hand is at eleven past.

11:11. A number I have not thought about in years, but is suddenly in my face.

Ryet coughs again. “I’m OK. I think. I’m just...” He doesn’t finish, just leans over and holds his head in his hands.

What is happening?

And what should I do?

Seriously, Syrsee? You know what to do. The vampire, Paul, just came to you in a dreamwalk and told you that the man you just had hours and hours of sex with—an entire night of sex—is the very man who is hunting you for your blood.

So he can give you to Paul to feed on.

It’s a setup. This whole thing. Somehow, I don’t know how, the vampire corrupted people. Zusi—no. She would never send me into the lion’s den. Not unless she came with me. She would never send me on a ten-day journey into the hands of that monster. That thing.

But it has to be someone at the Guild. They’re the ones who told me to come here!

The vampire, who I have been hiding from my entire life, knows where I am and if I don’t run, right now, I’m going to end up chained in a dungeon somewhere. Being bitten and fed on.

Ryet coughs again. Something inside his chest is rattling.

“Sorry.” His words are breathy and labored. “I don’t know what’s happening. I’m just… sick, I guess.”

He’s sick. He really is sick. Maybe it’s just that simple?

Maybe I made the whole thing up?

Maybe my imagination just went a little crazy because of how stressful the last month has been?