Chapter Twenty-Six - Kenzie

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Chapter Twenty-Six

When I wake the next morning, the space in the bed next to me is disappointingly empty. I roll over lazily, burying my face in the hollow of Spencer's pillow. The pillow is still slightly warm, like he's only just got up recently. A small smile spreads over my lips as I slowly inhale the scent of sandalwood and grapes that I've come to love, and I hug the pillow tighter.

I blearily open my eyes, yawning quietly. "Spencer?"

No answer.

I prop myself up with my elbow, frowning a little. The morning is sending light is trickling through the creme curtains, and it casts a golden glow across the pale room and it's shadowy furniture.

But Spencer and his tall lanky form is nowhere to be seen.

I raise my voice. "Spencer?"

Faint sounds come from the bathroom, sounding suspiciously like the low rumble of his voice.

I climb out of the bed and pad over to the bathroom. Hesitantly, I knock on the door. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine dollface." His reassurance is muffled by a series of wracking coughs.

Fear lodges itself in my throat. I rest my head on the door. "You don't sound fine. Since when do you sound like you're dying?"

"Since never! I don't-" Spencer interrupts himself with something that sounds a lot more violent than coughing. He groans. "Since now, apparently."

My eyes widen. "Are you vomiting?"

"No-" He throws up again. "Yes."

I anxiously jiggle the doorhandle, but he's locked it behind himself. "Spencer, unlock the door."

"I don't really want to." He replies weakly.

"I don't really care!" I bang on the door furiously when I hear him retching again. "Let me in!"

"No." He refuses stubbornly.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm too focused on lying on the deliciously cold ground and not vomiting."

"You're scaring me Spencer."

"Stop worrying dollface; everyone gets sick."

"Not gods!"

"Apparently dying gods do. A heads up would have been nice. But then again, dead gods don't do a lot of talking."

"You're not dying Spencer." I struggle to keep the dread from filtering into my tones. "I'm getting help."

"What? No dollface, don't be ridiculous-" Suddenly he cuts himself off. Scary silence follows.

I falter, leaning closer to the door. "Spencer?"

I hear him sigh resignedly. "I'll unlock the door. Go get Evie."

Crap. The fact that he asked for help means something isn't right. Doesn't it? Only... Spencer never asks for help. Spencer is obsessed to a point where it's scarily unhealthy when it comes to his ego. He wouldn't ask for help if he didn't think he really actually needed it.

Oh my god. Something is wrong.

My heart skips a beat in my chest. Without another word I whirl around and fly out of the room. Stumbling to a stop in front of Evie's door, I practically beat the door down until she answers it, repeatedly yelling her name at the top of my lungs. I know I'm probably making a ridiculous racket, but I'm so worried about Spencer that I can't find a single cell in me that cares.

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