Miserable, I let it drop to the ground before covering my face with my hands. “I’m tired,” I said flatly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly built for crouching in a tree for hours on end. And I had to do it while staying unseen—it’s hard to maintain that for long periods of time. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. My head feels like it’s about to explode, I can barely move my legs, I haven’t eaten, I stink to high heaven and I feel like I’m going to fall on my face—oh, wait, I’ve just about done that.”
Seconds ticked away. I heard the rasp of a zipper. Then his voice, as flat as mine. “Here.”
Dropping my hands, I looked up and saw the bottle. It was one of his, half empty.
I crossed my arms over my belly and looked away.
“Take the damn water or I’ll pour it down your throat. And in a minute, I’m going to give you an energy bar and you’ll eat it, or I’ll shove that down your throat along with the water,” he warned.
“You need the water as much as I do,” I snapped.
“This isn’t as hard on me as it is on you.” He continued to hold the bottle out. “Were, remember? And I grabbed something to eat on the way back.”
I flicked a glance at him, saw a look in his eyes. Decided I didn’t want to know what he’d snacked on. Seeing as how there wasn’t a restaurant around for miles…yeah, I didn’t want to know.
Snagging the bottle, I popped it open and guzzled. Nausea rolled through me, but I battled it down, breathing shallowly until it passed. It was another sixty seconds before I thought I might not start to puke. And there was no way I wanted to do that.
“Just so know, if you try to make me eat a damn thing, I’m just going to hurl it up,” I said. “I need to eat, but I can’t do it right now. I pushed myself too hard.”
A faint sigh escaped him. “Fine. But we’ve still got five miles to go. And we can’t do it with you stumbling every other step, Kit.”
“Just give me a minute. I’ll be okay.”
The baleful look in his eyes told me that he very clearly didn’t believe that.
I glared back at him.
There was no way I was spending those five miles flung over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
Okay, so the alternative was that I spent it curled up in his arms while he carried me like a damn toddler.
“I’m going to get sick,” I told him after the first few minutes.
“Okay. Just give me a warning.”
I lapsed into silence for about five minutes.
“You’re still one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever met.”
I said that while looking at my knees, because I wasn’t going to crane my head to look up at him.
“Don’t worry. You’re not the first person to tell me that. And rest assured, baby girl, you’re one of the most stubborn and headstrong females I’ve ever met. Probably the most stubborn.”
“Don’t call me baby girl. I’m not that stubborn.”
“Uh-huh.” He stroked a thumb down my arm. “You know, seeing as how you can’t walk and we still have about twenty minutes to go before I can get us to the car, why don’t you start thinking through the next step?”
I made a face. I wasn’t about to tell him that thinking downright hurt. Right then, though, everything hurt. My brain felt like it had been ripped open and fried and then sewn back together.
“The girl was a cat,” I murmured, closing my head and trying to relax a little. That, oddly enough, wasn’t terribly hard, as long as I didn’t think about it. Damon was carrying me, both packs and he wasn’t even winded. I sent my blade back to the car because it was just too awkward to try to carry it like this, plus, it just felt too heavy right then. I couldn’t even carry my sword, and he was hauling me around like I weighed nothing.
“Yes.” His thumb was still stroking the sensitive skin of my shoulder where he held me. “How can you always tell?”
“I just can.” Even though thinking was so very painful, I made myself do it. “Remember that girl from Atlanta who went missing a month ago? There was video of some guys grabbing her in broad