My kidnapper had removed my coat so he could bind my wrists more easily, and I had no idea where that coat had ended up. My clothes were still slightly damp from the time I’d spent crumpled in the trunk with the rain beating down through the gap the crash had created, and that first blast of cold air practically took my breath away.
The temperature had dropped since I’d last been out, and the rain had changed into a light snow that so far was only sticking in patches here and there. My breath steamed, and I wrapped my arms around myself for warmth. It didn’t help, and within seconds, I was shivering.
The smart thing to do would be to go inside and wait where it was warm. However, the biting cold served two purposes: it kept me awake despite the exhaustion that dragged at me, and it made me so uncomfortable there wasn’t room in my brain to handle thoughts of death.
I stood shivering in the cold and watched as the snowfall grew heavier, until there was a dusting of white over every exposed surface. So much for the “slight chance” of snow. Exhaustion had made my knees weak, and I was leaning against the side of the building to keep myself upright when I finally saw Jamaal’s black Saab turning into the entrance. I pushed away from the wall as he pulled up to the curb, and my legs were so shaky I almost fell. I was in rough shape, and I hoped I wouldn’t need Jamaal to help me into the car.
The passenger door sprang open, and I saw that Jamaal had leaned across the seat to open it for me. He was watching me intently as I approached, I think trying to gauge whether I could make it on my own or not. If he hadn’t opened the door for me, I don’t know if I could have. I collapsed into the passenger seat in a boneless heap, shivering even more violently when the blast of heated air hit me.
Jamaal reached over me to pull the door closed. I’d kind of forgotten that little detail in the blissful glory of sitting down and feeling the warmth of the heater. Despite my fear of the darkness, my eyelids weighed about a ton each, and sleep was pressing in on me from all sides. I was so out of it I’d forgotten about the seat belt, too. I thought about trying to take over as Jamaal buckled me in, but that simple task loomed like a Herculean labor, and I couldn’t find the energy to even start.
I was asleep before the car started moving again.
There’s no sleep quite so deep and dreamless as that which occurs after a lot of supernatural healing. I didn’t wake up when we arrived at the mansion, nor when Jamaal picked me up and carried me through the snow from the garage to the main house, nor when he carried me up to my room on the third floor. When I did wake up, it was dark outside. Someone—Jamaal, presumably—had considerately turned my bedside lamp on so that I wouldn’t wake up to a dark room. I smiled at that small act of kindness, even as my fuzzy brain realized I didn’t remember a thing since collapsing into the seat of Jamaal’s car.
My body still felt strangely heavy, and I knew that if I curled up and tried to sleep some more, I’d probably drift off again. But that effort would require me to lie there with my eyes closed for a while, and I knew from experience I’d have to face panicky memories of being dead.
Deciding I’d rather wait until the exhaustion had a mind of its own again before facing that ordeal, I pushed myself into a sitting position, and that’s when I noticed a number of things.
For one, I wasn’t wearing my clothes. I glanced down at myself and saw the straps of my bra peeking out from beneath the covers, so at least I wasn’t completely naked, but someone had undressed me.
Second, I noticed the heavenly scent of coffee. I breathed in deep, wondering if I had the strength to wander into the sitting room and fetch myself a cup.
Then, and only then, did I realize I wasn’t alone in the room.
I gave a startled little squeak when I caught sight of the shadowed form sitting quietly in an armchair in the corner. Jamaal leaned forward so that the