The scent woke her first, tickling her senses enough to see Cassidy rousing from the weird dream of a black slicked body, the substance moving like oil in a strangely beautiful way over the man it was part of. Bacon. She smiled to herself, wondering if her dad was cooking breakfast when the reality of her life came crashing down on her.
Her parents were dead. Her sister and brother were both dead. The pillow beneath her head wasn’t her own, and she had no idea where she was.
“Eddie, she wakes.”
The voice brought terror screaming through her veins, and Cassidy sat up with a jolt that made her grunt, wince, and grab for her side only to notice the clothes she wore weren’t hers.
“Hey. Morning.”
Cassidy looked up to find the man from last night standing in the doorway. He hunched a little, as if waiting for a blow or reprimand, and fiddled with his fingers.
“I, uh, we had to change your clothes. You bled right through your shirt and pants. There’s a bullet wound in your side, more a nick really, glancing blow, but the one in your hip looked like shrapnel from a ricochet. Venom says he got it all out and did what he could to fix it, but you’re not compatible so he couldn’t heal you all the way.”
She blinked, unable to fully comprehend someone who talked that fast.
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