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When I wake up at twelve, I assume it’s midnight until I look at my phone and realize that it’s noon the following day. When Landon suggested we sleep a day of our life away, I didn’t realize we’d damn near do that.
Landon’s face scrunches up a bit, as though he’s waking up but also refusing to do so. Like he thinks if he makes a weird expression with his face and clamps his eyes closed tighter that he can avoid waking up for at least another twenty-four hours.
Zacia sees that I’m awake and comes over to stare into my soul, probably wondering if she’ll be forced to starve to death for the foreseeable future. I reach out and scratch under her chin, which at least appeases her.
Landon lets out a groan of annoyance. “What time is it?”
“Noon.”
“What day?”
“The twelfth.”
“What year?”
“What, you think you slept an entireyear?” I ask as I reach out and push his dark hair out of his face. It’s sticking up all over since he went to bed with it wet, yet he still looks absolutely sexy.
“Just wondering if I could sleep another.”
“You can do whatever you want, but Zacia is starving to death.”
He cracks open one eye, flicks his hand as the container’s lid pops open, then tilts the container, pouring a week’s worth of food all over her bowl.
Zacia leaps off the bed and dives into it, like she hadn’t just had a heaping bowl before we went to sleep.
“I’m glad to see your powers are back to normal. Is your head better?”
“It is. Yours?” he asks as the sound of Zacia loudly crunching down food fills the room.
“It is. I’m going to go see how things are holding up, but feel free to sleep some more,” I say as I lift his hand and kiss the back of it where scars run from the burns he’d received saving me from the fiery broadcast station before I knew he was a villain. He smiles at me before closing his eyes. Sliding out from under the covers, I notice I’ve pulled them a bit off his shoulder, so I drape them back over him.
Once I’m dressed and ready, I step out into the hall. Zacia wants to follow me, so I glance over at Landon who is staring at me with one eye partially open.
“Mind if she goes?”
“Nope… but she can’t go out wearing yesterday’s clothes. What kind of father are you?”
Oh lord.
I head back into the bedroom and go over to the drawer filled with “emergency Zacia clothes” for when we’re stuck here. I grab the first thing that’s on top, which is a neon purple outfit that says “Meow Motherfucker,” and slip it on her.
Once finished, I open the door for Zacia to slip out into the hallway before following. She prances down the hallway, thrilled to be joining me on the ride. We head over to the elevator and up to the next floor where I find Valerie looking like she might rip someone else’s hair out. Of course she wouldn’t maim herself, but I’m positive she’d maim another.
“What can I do?” I ask.
“Nothing. We have nothing yet. The men we have won’t talk. So while we wait for more information, you guys rest up and sit tight.”
“She’s been like this all morning,” Deus says. I hadn’t even noticed him in the corner, knees to his chest, rifle between them pointed to the ceiling. “She won’t let me leave this awful building either.”
“No, you are to sit tight and justlisten,” she demands.
Ellison is tentatively staring at her, like he wants some pointers on how to be brutal just like her.
“Valerie, we’re not some breakable items to just store inside,” I remind her.
She turns on me, and I realize I’m about to get my very own dose of wrath. “Yet every time I let you gooutside,the fucking city gets blown up, someone gets stabbed, someone gets attacked… just… until we have a better idea of what’s going on, you’re staying put.”
“I can torture them,” Deus offers.
