Speak for yourself, my wolf piped up. I need food and rest.
I smiled. “You and me both, sister.”
My shoulder was swollen, my ribs bruised. There were cuts all over my
body, but the only ones that weren’t healing quickly were those made by the
Soul Knife…which Kahanov now had. I tried to summon it, but nothing
happened. I could still feel my bond with the blade, but I was too far away.
Shit!
I’d failed to kill him, and now I’d lost the knife. My stomach clenched as
the weight of failure pressed upon my heart. I wiped the tears from the
corners of my eyes.
Hey, we lived. We broke that vial of blood. And we can get the knife back.
Focus on the task at hand. Find Jaxson, my wolf said calmly.
My heart warmed. If she could think clearly, then so could I.
I staggered to my feet. I needed to call Jaxson to tell him where I was—so
where the hell was I? My ears picked up the sound of cars on a road, so I
headed that way.
When I finally reached the highway, I stuck out my thumb. I was
barefoot, scraped up, wearing twigs in my hair and clothes that clearly didn’t
match. I looked like a survivor of a plane crash.
Hey, at least you’re cute enough to make it work, my wolf chirped.
Where was this positive attitude before? I asked, annoyed.
You didn’t need it then.
I wasn’t sure how to interpret that.
Thirty minutes later, I caught a ride with an older man in a Crown
Victoria. Old Savannah would have never hitchhiked, but the man seemed
harmless, and if he’d turned out to be a serial killer, I would have just clawed
him to pieces.
Luckily, he was genuinely nice and helpful, and I learned that I was in
Washington. I'd never been to the Pacific Northwest, but I decided I liked it,
and so did my wolf.