When she woke, she wasstill on the sofa, and so was Kaine, except somehow they’d ended up tangled together. Her face was crushed against his chest, his elbow prodding her ribs, and his chin was digging into the top of her head.
It was a miracle that neither of them had fallen off the sofa.
Helena didn’t move immediately; her head was on the verge of cracking open. She suspected that any sudden movements would result in a lot of smoky, overly expensive whisky coming back up.
She managed to slip a hand up to her face, using her vivimancy to alleviate some of her nausea before slowly extricating herself.
Kaine didn’t even twitch. He was insensate. He probably hadn’t slept properly since spring.
She gripped her satchel and went to the heavy door, prying it slowly open, and fled without lo
