I’d been trying to focus on breathing again, their words inspiring panic. This one wanted me after Mr. Bradley was done with me. Whatever that meant. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t move between realms physically, but the gods could move me. I had to find one of them to help. I scrunched my eyes closed, thinking of Airmid. I turned—but I didn’t turn. I tried again, and then again, doing nothing but turning in circles in my mind.
The man’s weight shifted on the bed, and my eyes snapped open.
“You can’t do anything, can you?” Mr. Bradley said from the chair he’d been seated in when I first came to.
“What?”
“Your gifts, you can’t use them.” That godsforsaken grin was back on his face.
I shook my head. “Why?”
“You’re drugged,” the man on the bed said.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“The drug won’t let you use your power.”
I sat in stunned silence. I couldn’t reach out for help, there was no one. I screamed Urd’s name in my head again, silently begging for her to answer me. Nothing. Well something, but it was as if we were calling across a canyon to each other. I couldn’t hear her. Couldn’t reach her. I closed my eyes and bowed my head.
I could feel the panic as if it were a hand pushing against my chest. No, no, no! I had to think. There had to be a way out of this. I wanted to push the heels of my hands into my eyes. Instead I balled my hands into fists and then stretched them out.
I heard the man on the bed inhale as if he had walked into a room full of fresh baked cookies.
I opened my eyes again. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed. A content smile played about his face as he continued to breathe deeply through his nose. Holy helheim, he was smelling my fear, my panic. Revulsion rode me, and if I hadn’t been chained to a bed, I would have recoiled from him. His lip curled, and he looked down at me, his eyes darkening from brown to black, the whites taking on a gray hue.
My thoughts slipped away, my brain quieting, and everything fell from me. Nothingness. I was somewhere. In a room. On a bed. There was a man looking down at me. Was I in a hospital? Did I have an accident? Was I hurt?
“Where?” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “Where am I?”
“Do you know what’s happened to you?”
“No.” I tried to sit up and realized that I was restrained when I couldn’t rise. My eyes widened. What was wrong with me? “What’s going on? Why am I chained?”
The man smiled. “What’s your name?”
“I’m . . . I . . .” I furrowed my brow. “I don’t know?”
“You don’t know your name.”
I shook my head, my breathing coming faster and my head jerking around trying to take everything in. What in helheim was happening to me?
The man smiled again, and the whites of his eyes darkened to a gray. And suddenly I remembered him. From the casino. The one who’d offered me a drink and brought me water. And now I was stuck in this room with him and Mr. Bradley. And they were going to do something to me.
Chapter Fifteen
I woke to the sound of footsteps and the smell of new paint. Mr. Bradley and the other man, the man who took me from the casino, strode into the too-bright room. I looked up at them.
Mr. Bradley stopped abruptly. “You shouldn’t be awake.” The fear on his face looked so out of place that I wouldn’t have recognized it had it not been for the color that suffused his aura.
“Evelyn!” he bellowed.
Anger, fear, and that ice-blue arrogance were all about him. The other man wasn’t feeling much at all; it was unusual how singular his emotions were. And dull. As if he didn’t feel things as deeply. It took a long moment before the full meaning of what I was seeing landed on me. My gifts. I was using my abilities. They were back. I had a way out!
A tall, thick-boned woman entered my room and hurried to my bed. She plunged a needle into the peripheral line of the IV that must have been attached to me sometime during the night. I ignored her. It was time to get out.
Urd!
Yes, my host?
Get us out of here!
What exactly do you wish?
Take us out of here.
I am unable to. Part of our agreement disallows my use of power.
You have permission.
It is not a matter of agreement. My power is with my sisters.
Fuck! Although my heart raced, I could hold the fear at bay. When I had the time, I would have to figure out why I was able to stave off the panic that tended to arrive with fear. But now, I had to do something. Urd couldn’t take us out, but one of the other gods could. The Norns could help. They would want to save their sister. They would help us. They had to. I turned to the Well of Destiny and called out.
Sisters, sisters, come to us
Death is near, disastrous.
My voice echoed loudly, but this time I felt no fear. I twisted my hands together. Come on. Come on. Come on! They had to get here before the drug took effect. Before I had no way out again. Before I was helpless. Before Mr. Bradley and his creepy friend could do whatever they wanted to me.
Two forms emerged from the ever-present haze: one tall and stately, the other a thin girl who looked no more than seven. They moved slowly, and I called out to them again, not waiting until they crossed the distance.
“You’ve got to pull me here,” I said.
“You’re already here,” the youngest said.
“My body. I need my body here.”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “But that which you agreed to has not yet been fulfilled. Urd is to be with you for another eleven days.”
“I can’t fulfill the bargain if I’m dead!”
The two stopped walking and tilted their heads, as if listening to a distant sound. They nodded in unison and turned their attention back to me. “Bringing you here will not much impact what is to come.”
“What?!” Was I going to die one way or the other? Was I doomed?
“Your physical presence here will not change what you wish it to change.”
“For the love of the gods! I have no idea what they’re going to do to me! To us! It’ll happen to Urd too, won’t it? If I die, she’ll die.”
They nodded.
“Then do someth—” I heard voices whisper to me, and it was my turn to cock my head, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying. Colors danced in my vision. I felt dizzy, staggered backward, and fell on my ass. I had a moment to feel glad that the ground was spongy, and then I slid backward as if someone threw a cement block to which I was attached over a bridge. I landed hard, smacking into my body as if my spirit carried weight, and breathed out a whoosh of air.
I opened my eyes and blinked. Mr. Bradley stood over me, his face far too close to mine. I tried to pull my head back and managed to sink into the bed deeper, still too close. His form twisted—his chin squared and moved right while his eyes mirrored the squaring but went left. I whipped my head from side to side. The room. It was solid, and yet colors rode the walls. The other man was there, both his physical and spiritual selves. I was seeing everything. The mundane world and the spirit realm, one atop the other. It was too much. Too confusing. I closed my eyes to block it all out. I still had my gifts. I had more than my gifts. This wasn’t a retardant drug. It was the opposite of a retardant. I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, opened my eyes, and met Mr. Bradley’s still too-close gaze. “What did you give me?”
“Akasha.”
“Oh gods,” I moaned. A chill trickled down my spine and up my arms. “Why?”
“Maybe your power will give me something new. Something I haven’t been able to get yet.” Mr. Bradley pulled back, his form continuing to shift.
And then I knew. My eyes widened.
Mr. Bradley grinned. “You figured it out, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “Carol. She didn’t know she had gifts. She mentioned you helped her through a time she almost died. You gav
e her akasha and then stole her power.”
He leaned in close, a real smile on his face, and a calmness fell over him. “Not just her.”
I tried to ask what he meant, but a rush of heat ran through my body, making my spine bow. I gritted my teeth, groaning again. A chill followed the heat and I collapsed, shivering. Fire and ice. Scorching and freezing. One after the other. Sweat coated my body and I could feel my hair sticking to my face. Waves of electricity rode me next, making me feel like a thousand bugs crawled under my skin. I jittered and thrashed, wishing I could scratch at myself. Finally, the sensations abated, leaving me exhausted. I wanted to curl into a ball, but the restraints didn’t even allow that.
The man stepped in, leaning over me, enjoying my scent again. The sensations came back, lessened but still unbearable. My teeth chattered, and I moaned. Hot, cold, pain, numbness. My muscles spasmed and released. They rode me, growing larger and larger. Oh gods, I wished I had only to deal with the headache again. I heard the man inhale again and felt his breath on my face. I hated that I wanted the warmth of it, the soft caress of it. Nausea punched me in the stomach, making it clench, and I threw up . . . and out. I heard the man yell in disgust and had just enough time to take twisted pleasure in the fact that I’d puked all over him, before wave after wave had me dry heaving.
I was going to die. Even though I had talent, it didn’t guarantee I’d survive the drug. It was going to kill me. I’d never again feel the sun on my face. Never know if I’d be a grandmother. Never see my children again. Never know the people they would become.
“Mama?”
My head shot up. I was standing in my eldest’s kitchen. Sean held a pan full of lasagna, a surprised look on his face. I ran my eyes over him and didn’t care that tears welled up. He was tall and broad through the shoulders, with sandy blond hair and his father’s green eyes. I would get to see him. At least I could die having seen him one last time. If only I could see his brother too.
“Mom, how did you . . . what’s wrong with your eye?” He stepped forward as if to give me a hug.
I reached up to brush the hair from his forehead, and my hand went through him. He shuddered and stepped back.
“Cool! Astral projection. Since when can you do that?”
Tears spilled down my face, and I still didn’t care. “I love you.”
“What the helheim is going on?” he said, a touch of fear in his voice. He had always been my stoic one, not one to show much emotion.
I couldn’t help but smile, he sounded so much like me. But the smile was short-lived as an ache swept through me and took up residence in every joint. I gritted my teeth, keeping upright when all I wanted to do was curl in upon myself. I didn’t know how much time I had, and I wouldn’t waste it.
“It’s not important.” I sniffed and wiped the tears from my face. “You and your brother have become wonderful young men. I’m so proud of you both.”
“Mom, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“Tell your brother what I said.”
“Tell me what?” Ethan rounded the corner. Where Sean was muscular, Ethan was thin, but he stood two inches taller than his brother. Ethan had my auburn hair and amber eyes. Sometimes it was difficult to tell they were brothers.
I smiled again. “That you’re both amazing young men, and I love you.” I reached out for him before I remembered I was there only in spirit.
Ethan stepped toward me, but he faded from view before he could reach through me.
I was back on the bed. I curled my lip at the acrid smell of stomach acid.
I turned away from it, my arms still held in check, limiting how far I could move. I saw Mr. Bradley still in the chair, but the other man was nowhere in sight.
Space and time blurred, and I no longer knew where I was or what was happening to me.
Chapter Sixteen
My eyes were glued shut.
“Ugh!” I said and tried to wipe them clean.
“There, there. I’ve got it.” My husband’s voice startled me. He wiped my face with a warm washcloth.
I looked into the deep brown of his eyes, reached up, and tucked a stray piece of his salt-and-pepper hair behind his ear. A look I couldn’t read crossed his face. “Rick, where am I?”
“At home. You haven’t been well.”
“I don’t remember being sick.” I cast my mind’s eye backward. I still didn’t remember being sick. I remembered . . . What did I remember?
Our wedding but it felt like that had been years ago. A quiet ceremony on the beach. Weird. I didn’t like beaches. I didn’t dislike beaches, but I had always thought I’d marry in the mountains in the late summer, when the evenings were warm, and the smell of the pines mingled with the night air. I remembered buying this house. I looked around the bedroom, but nothing seemed familiar. I searched but couldn’t find any other memories. My world was empty save for a few moments.
“What happened?” I swung my legs around and rested my feet on the floor. I swallowed the knot that had formed in my throat and it landed in my stomach. If I had memory problems, something must be terribly wrong with me.
“Some flu bug,” he said, “You’ve been in and out for two days.”
“Flu bug?! Come on! Rick, what on earth is going on? I can’t remember anything. Something’s really wrong. We need to talk to the doctor.”
“We’ve talked to the doctor.”
I furrowed my brow. “When?”
“I’ve got it covered,” he said.
I huffed and startled as a red mist bloomed around him. I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes, but it remained. I watched it undulate around him, mesmerized, until a black wave rose up and extended a tendril toward me. I pulled back, pressing into the headboard and raising my hands, but the thing came forward and caressed my face with its icy appendage. I shivered, lowering my hands and wrapping my arms around myself.
“What’s wrong?” he said.
I started to tell him what I’d seen before my mind screamed at me that admitting I was hallucinating wasn’t the best idea. I had a brief argument with myself, but I still couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. I shook my head, falling silent before saying, “It’s nothing.” My gaze slid away from his face.
The thing pulled back, as if deciding what to do, and then retracted, sinking away until I couldn’t find any remnant of it. This was bad. What the fuck was wrong with me? I needed to get away from Rick. I needed to be by myself. To think for a few minutes.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I blurted out and tried to get out of bed, only succeeding in tangling myself in the covers. Rick sighed loudly, pulled them away, and helped me stand. I startled when I met his eyes without looking up. I looked down at my feet to see if I was standing on something. A vague memory came to me. Something about being surprised by his height. I felt his arm curl around my waist and I leaned into him. He tensed, but supported my weight, and I half walked to the bathroom. At least this felt familiar.
I glanced at myself in the mirror as I leaned into the sink to wash my hands. I looked up quickly for a second time and almost fell when I recoiled. I looked awful. Black-and-blue marks circled my eyes as if I had been beaten, but there wasn’t any swelling. One of my eyes had no color. It was almost transparent. My skin was sallow. I ran my hand through my hair and peered closer at the mirror. A white streak marred the auburn color, and like Rick, I had a halo of colors around me. For a moment, everything looked . . . different, as if I were seeing double.
Who am I? Where am I? I heard a voice but didn’t see anyone behind me in the mirror.
“Is someone there?” I whispered.
Yes.
“Who are you?”
I don’t know. Who are you?
“Amanda—” I stopped talking. I didn’t know my last name.
You don’t know your name either?
“You heard that?” I said.
Yes.
“But I only thought it.”
I know, the voice sa
id. It doesn’t make sense. What are we going to do?
“I don’t know.”
I was going crazy. Completely batshit. Not only were my memories all screwed up and random colors were appearing, I was now hearing voices and talking to myself. I wondered how long it would be before I completely lost touch with reality. I needed to tell Rick. But I couldn’t, and I couldn’t say why. He was my husband, I should be able to tell him anything. Still, a small part of me recoiled at the mere thought. No. He’d do something to me. What I needed was to get to a doctor.
“Honey?” Rick called and knocked at the door. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied again. “Why is my eye like this? I look like a walking corpse.”
“You’re just sick,” he said. “Honey, open the door.”
I leaned forward to look more closely at my eye. “Sick with what?” I said and shuffled to the door. I leaned on the doorknob and turned it. I pulled, lost my balance, and almost fell backward when it sprang open. “Rick, the flu doesn’t do this.”
“Let the doctors worry about that.”
“Worry about what? Talk to me.”
“We don’t know what you have.”
I leaned heavily on him as he began to move me across the floor to the bed.
“No, wait. I need food,” I said, tugging him weakly toward the hallway. “Do we have any chicken soup?”
“You go back to bed. I’ll make it. You must be tired.”
“Dammit! I can’t even make soup.” I tried to stomp my foot, but my knee buckled.
“What you need,” he said, “is to get your strength back.” He said it so forcefully that I almost pulled away from him. He sounded angry, which made me think I was sicker than he was letting on.
He brought in a TV tray and set it next to the bed. I placed my elbows on it and put my head in my hands. The TV tray groaned under my weight. I searched my memory again, scraping around the far corners of my mind for anything more than what I’d remembered earlier, but I came up empty. It was as if I were standing in a huge, dark ballroom that echoed as if nothing remained except a tiny woman. Tears flowed down my cheeks. I was too tired to feel ashamed or wipe them away.
Power Play (Amanda Byrne Book 1) Page 8
