Twyla tried to recall the words that Bastian had used when they made their deal. He sat on her bed, blood dripping from his wounds. His porcelain skin was marred by deep shadows and purple bruises. He had said that she would come to his aid when he asked. That was the deal. Something like that. But what was he asking for?
"Twyla," he growled. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she shivered. He sounded like she should already know what he wanted. Was she being slow?
"What happened, Bastian?"
"That is not your concern," he forced out. "We have a deal. You will help me now."
"H-How?" Her voice was barely audible. Why was she so scared? This was Sebastian. She trusted him.
"I think you know." He moved closer and she tried to move back but her back hit the headboard.
