She rolled over and fought down a groan. Her arm was aching, as was most her body; she had to be one massive bruise. Riley kicked off the covers, too warm from the toxins the demon wounds had set loose. At least this time she wasn’t as sick as when she’d tangled with a Grade Three demon and nearly died. To get her mind off her pains, Riley checked out the room. The space was bigger than she’d expected, with a desk, a wardrobe, a couch and a couple of chairs. I’m in Scotland. How cool is that? Not as cool as she’d planned after the previous night’s disaster. Stop being a grump. Beck was on the couch, sitting in a pool of light cast by a reading lamp, his head bent over a book. Once his reading skills had improved, he was making up for lost time. He still read slowly, but now he wasn’t mouthing words or using his finger to follow along. Her boyfriend was dressed in a long sleeved navy blue tee shirt and jeans, and though that wasn’t unusual, there was something different in the way he held himself.
