Chapter 32: *CHAPTER 32*

I woke up from a fitful sleep to a shadowed figure standing over me in the dark. I swore loudly, my fist swinging out wildly in my shock. My fist collided with what must have been the figure's nose because they let out a surprised curse, stumbling back a step. Over my thundering heartbeat, I recognized the voice and my shock morphed into annoyance.

"What the hell are you doing creeping over my bed Malcolm?"

"I'm not creeping anywhere," his voice was muffled. I squinted through the dark, my eyes slowly adjusting to the blurring shades of deep blues and blacks to see the shape of Malcolm rubbing a hand over his face, "I've been trying to wake you up for the past five minutes. You sleep like the dead."

I sat up, pushing my back up against the headboard. Shoving my hair out of my face, I glared up at him, even though he probably couldn't see it through the dark, "Why in the world are you waking me up? It's the middle of the night."

"It's not the middle of the night, it's six a.m.," he shoved away from the bed, stalking toward my open bedroom door, "Get up and get dressed," he instructed, "You have two minutes to be downstairs. Wear shoes you can run in." He shut the door behind him without a second glance, and I blinked blearily after him.

Wondering if this had something to do with the murder he had been investigating last night—the one I hadn’t gotten a chance to ask him about before jumping him. I pushed my way out of bed to do what he said. I hurried through brushing my teeth and splashing some cold water on my face to wake me up before scavenging around my room in the dark to pick out a pair of leggings. I had to dig into the deep recesses of my pink duffel for a pair of tennis shoes I hadn't worn in years. It was lucky I'd even brought them to begin with.

By the time I’d finished dressing, I’d decided that it would be best if I just pretended like last night had never happened. Pretend like we hadn’t kissed each other the way we had last night. Try to move on and act like I never snuck into his room. It certainly seemed like he wasn’t going to bring it up if the way he’d barged into my room was any indication. Well, two could play at that game. I could pretend just as well as he could and I would do it better.

Scraping my hair into a messy ponytail, I stumbled my way downstairs where Malcolm and Caleb waited in the entryway. Both were wearing t-shirts and shorts, sporting tennis shoes. My stomach tightened at the sight of Malcolm, but I ignored it, pushing aside any residual thoughts from last night. Caleb was stretching as I came down the last step. They both turned to look at me as expectantly I stopped in front of them.

"What's going on?" I eyed them both warily.

Caleb raised an eyebrow, "Malcolm didn't tell you?"

"No," I blinked between them, crossing my arms over my chest, "Is this about the murder?"

Malcolm snorted, "No."

I felt my brows draw together, "Then what—"

"We're going for a run and you're coming with us," Malcolm said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Dread and horror settled over me in equal parts, "Nu-uh. No way." I wasn’t a runner. It was a well-documented fact. The only running I'd done was the unwilling kind in school and more recently for my life from magical creatures. I looked to Caleb, who was watching on in rapt amusement. I sent him a pleading look, but he just grinned. Traitor.

Malcolm, looked down at me, a no-nonsense look overtaking his face, "If we have a life bond tethering us together, I'm sure as hell not going to let you kill us both with your complete lack of physicality. And from what I've seen, your cardio is in some dire need of improvement."

"My cardio is just fine, thank you," I said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah?" Malcolm let a vicious smile overtake his face, "How about you prove it then."