Wayward Sky by Devon Monk EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: Devon Monk
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available for Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
The only good thing about being a spirit cursed to haunt Route 66, was that
at least as a spirit, I hadn’t had to worry about trying to sleep in the back of
Silver, the old truck my wife, Lula had insisted on buying a couple months
I hadn’t had to worry about being in a field in the middle of nowhere
Kansas, with metal edges digging into my ass every time I turned over,
either.I exhaled and shifted, shoehorning myself between the wheel wells,
claiming a sliver of mattress crowded with five other bodies sprawled around
Sure, it’d been lonely following Lula as she traveled the Mother Road for
nearly a hundred years, hunting for the monsters who had attacked us,
leaving her a thrawn, which was one step away from becoming a vampire,
and me a tethered spirit.
But if there had been one small good—maybe infinitesimal, but still good
—benefit to being a spirit, it was that I’d had a little room to move.
I rolled my foot, trying to ease the promise of a cramp in my calf.
“Okay?” Lula asked softly, as I shifted my hip yet again.
“Motels have soft beds,” I said into her hair, stretching my toes.
“You hate motels,” she replied. “They have ghosts, which you also hate.”
“True.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d won this conversation.
Every time she checked into a place for the night, she’d worry I’d have to
deal with hostile souls, so she avoided motels. It was partly why she’d bought
this truck. It had sleeping space for two.
Two. We hadn’t planned on picking up people along the way.
“But you like motels,” I said, giving it the old college try.
“I like the truck. I like the open sky and the stars.”
Moonlight filtered down through the oak trees around us. We’d parked
the truck in a field, far enough from the road we wouldn’t be bothered.
She repositioned in my arms, pressed her back more firmly to my chest
and pulled my arms closer around her. She closed her hand over mine, which
rested against her stomach, and looked over her shoulder. “I like being here,
in your arms.”
The look in her eyes was a story of its own. She’d missed the flesh of me,
the realness of me. Nearly a hundred years without being in each other’s arms
was a lot to make up for.We’d held on for this chance, for someday having
each other again.
Having this again.
“Still,” I said, “it’s pretty crowded.”
She snuggled closer. “I like it fine. I’ve slept alone for enough years. This
She was not wrong.
My shoulder under her head was falling asleep, the cramp in my leg bit
harder no matter how I stretched my foot, and my back hurt.
But when Lula said she wanted nothing more than to lie in my arms, there
was no possibility I’d say otherwise.
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