“Look at her leg.” “Ugh, gross.” “She’s never gonna run again.” “Dot?” The last voice belonged to the present. It also belonged to someone who absolutely despised me. What was Row doing awake, anyway? Did he ever sleep? Was he a vampire? I mean, he was painfully beautiful and permanently sulky. Though he did cook with garlic and wasn’t destroyed by fire. “Are you hurt?” His low, husky baritone rumbled over my head.
