Page 3 of Silent Jay

The silver grill of a semi-truck slammed into the passenger side of my jeep, and my body crashed into the driver’s side door. Pain bloomed up my arm and down my side. Protection spells I’d long forgotten about burst to life, shielding me, before crumbling under the g-force of a spinning vehicle at ninety miles an hour. I flew into the steering wheel, my leg catching on something. Pain laced through my ankle as my body twisted the wrong way, with my foot keeping me trapped in the shrinking tin can. Bone splintered, and shooting pain lit up every nerve ending before the ankle went numb. My head cracked against something hard. Whatever magical shielding I had, dropped. Stars filled my vision.

The sound of my breaking bones and the crushing metal car became indistinguishable. The spinning suddenly stopped. I dropped, hitting the ground, or my car--I didn’t even know--with a hard thud. The ribbon of magic buzzed around my neck one last time before the world faded to dark.

CHAPTER TWO

JAIYANA

Something sharp pinched my forearm, waking me from the black nothingness of unconsciousness. I shot to a seated position, and a person jumped back, bumping a cot at their back. Walls of a large, heavy canvas tent surrounded me. Little bits of sun streamed through the seams, highlighting tiny particles of dust floating in the air.

It was oddly peaceful…and definitely not my car or a hospital.

The person stepped forward again and I raised my hands into a guard position. The person, a woman, backed away from me again. White robes shrouded her from head to toe. A thick layer of make-up brought out her cheekbones and wide gray eyes. Two bumps sprouted at the top of her head, pulling up her headdress and exposing wild silver hair. The woman let out a curse, her voice lower than I expected, and closed her eyes. Her robes rose and fell with each calming breath she took. The bumps stopped growing, and her head dressing lowered.

She’s not a threat. Chill.

Right.

I left the woman, who I’d clearly surprised as much as myself, to her breathing and analyzed my new situation. My last memory was of my car rolling down the highway as my body shattered.

My limbs tingled like they’d been asleep for too long. Despite the sensation, I managed to run my hands across what should have been my mangled body. Rough cargo pants covered my completely uninjured limbs. The skin of my bare arms felt smooth under my fingers. I picked at the unfamiliar white tank top and sports bra before rubbing my neck and head. Other than the French braid holding my hair tight to my neck, nothing felt out of place.

The Ley Line!

I reached up, putting my hands around my throat.

The woman took a step forward, and her pupils dilated. I swore muscles bulged under her layers of white, though it was hard to tell.

“Are you hurt?” she asked before gritting her teeth. The bumps on her head appeared again; she reached up with one hand and pressed on one. “Crap. Stop. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. You can’t answer me.” She bonked her head. “She’s not hurt. She’s fine. Stop.”

I nodded slowly, wondering if I looked as crazy as this woman when I talked to myself before processing what she said.

‘Why can’t I answer you?’ I tried to ask, but only the most adorable squeak I didn’t know I could emit came out. I prodded my neck again, though the Ley Line’s ribbon was long gone, and flexed my ankles wrapped in heavy hiking boots.

I felt my bones shatter, yet I wasn’t in pain. There was no sign of my injuries. Turning back to the woman, I opened my mouth to ask, but only the same fucking squeak came out.

The woman took another step back and averted her eyes. “You’re the last one to wake up. The drugs should be out ofyour system any minute. You need to get going.” She picked up a tablet she must have dropped, keeping her other hand behind her back. “Your paperwork checks out, and everything’s been signed off. You’re all set.”

My paperwork? What the fuck was going on? I’d just been crushed inside a tin can going ninety miles per hour. I wasn’t going anywhere.

She pointed at my pants, either ignoring or not understanding my confusion.

I scowled at the heavy hiking gear. Someone dressed me in this while I lay unconscious. A tremor ran down my arms, and I squeezed my hands together, not wanting to think about other things that could have been done while I was dead to the world.

The woman let out a growl. “You’re fine. She’s fine. Please, stop looking so upset. This is normal.”

I blinked and looked around the room. It was still just the two of us here. Suddenly, the woman lunged forward and cupped my cheek. Her scent filled my nose…fresh laundry and lemons, with a hit of something masculine. My stomach fluttered with excitement I didn’t understand.

For a heartbeat too long, she stayed in my personal space. Her nostrils flared, and her eyes morphed into slits; scales peeked out from under her layers of foundation at the corner of her eyes. She was a shifter.

As fast as she darted in, she darted out, putting an extra bed between us. “This isn’t happening. I’m better than this. I have to be.” She scowled at me. “I’m not even supposed to be here. Scalehive has people for this.”

“Squeak?” I demanded, not understanding any of her babbling.

“Just join the others, please,” she said. “I can’t be the dragon you need.”

I blinked repeatedly before pointing at her, the tingling finally leaving me back in control of my arms. ‘I just need someone to explain what the fuck is going on; you’ve got to know!’ I tried to say. But only a series of desperate-sounding squeaks spilled out of me.

The woman shifted uncomfortably and glanced toward the door.

---