Chapter 132

Abby

Kade knew before I did.

I felt him wake. Since the night I came back to his room, I had slept on his right side, the side away from the wound, with my hand on his chest, and I woke now the way I had every morning that week, to the change in his breathing under my palm. But this time it didn’t slow and settle. It caught, and held, and his whole body went tight under my hand.

“Ryan,” he said quietly, to the dark. Not to me.

I sat up. It was still night outside, or nearly. The windows were gray at the edges.

“What’s happened?”

He didn’t answer at once. His eyes were open, fixed on nothing, the way they went when someone was speaking to him through the link. I watched his face change. I watched his jaw set.

Then he looked at me.

“Something came over the western line in the night,” he said. “For Sloane.”

***

He wouldn’t do it in the bedroom.

I argued. Daphne, who had come at the first sound of raised voices wit