In Anarchy’s hands, the beam played across her body. Its light caught the handle of a knife protruding from her stomach, and Anarchy swore softly.

I covered my mouth with my hands and closed my eyes.

When I opened them, Anarchy had moved the flashlight’s beam to her face, which was covered by her hair.

He reached, as if he meant to move the strands, and I heard it.

Hssss.

“Anarchy, don’t—”

My warning came too late. A snake sank its fangs deep into his wrist.

Chapter Eleven

Darkness danced at the edge of my vision, and I clutched the trunk of the nearest tree.

“Ellison.”

My knees shook like Jell-O, and the only thing keeping me upright was my fear of what might be slithering across the forest floor.

“Ellison.”

I was barely a bride and soon I’d be a widow. A sob rose from my belly and I pressed my hand to my mouth.

“Ellison!”

“I love you.” Tears ran unchecked down my cheeks.

“I love you, too.” He sounded annoyed. Why was Anarchy annoyed?

“These last few months with you have been the happiest of my life.”

“I’m not going to die.”

“You’re not?” Did I dare hope?

“I’m not dying. But I need your help. Go find Randy. Tell him we need the sheriff and an ambulance.”

I tore my gaze away from Anarchy and glanced at Buffy. “She's dead.”

“The ambulance is for me.”

“Right.”

“The faster you find Randy, the faster help will arrive, the faster a doctor can administer anti-venom.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Sit here and keep my heart rate down.”

I stared at him. Was he crazy? It was dark. There was a body. There were snakes.

“Sweetheart, you’re in shock, but we need help. Can you get Randy?”

“Get Randy?”

“Don’t ‘get’ him. We don’t need him here. Have him call for help.”

“I can do that.” If I could remember how to walk.

“Ellison.”

“I’m going.”

“Wait.”

He was going to tell me he loved me one last time. A romantic declaration I’d remember until the end of my days. And I’d reply with…I had nothing. Nothing but an aching chasm where my heart should be.

“Ellison!”

I focused on my husband. We might only have a few minutes left.

“Here. Take the flashlight.”

The flashlight? “I’m not leaving you alone in the dark.”

“You need the light to find the path. To get help.”

“Right.” I took the flashlight from his outstretched hand. What if I never saw him again? Never heard the way he said my name? “You promise not to die?”

“I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Ellison.”

“What?”

“Be careful. Whoever killed Buffy could be out there.”

And he wanted me to leave him alone in the dark?

“Go,” he told me. “Hurry.”