Page 72 of Lost Girl

Where they’re still talking about me.

Warning the public about me.

"You can't go home," the whisper presses, and almost right after, there’s a tightening in my arms.

Holding me more firmly in place more than should be physically possible.

"Answer me, dammit! Who are you?” My voice trembles as I yell, eyes shifting side to side in an attempt to catch anyone who could be looking as they stroll past.

"You must stay.”

My hackles rise. I feel manic at this point, desperate for an answer.

"Answer. Me! Who are you? What do you want? Why can’t I go home?"

"Wendy. Wendy. Hey!" Tavi's rasp.

It's an instant pull, the invisible rope I grab a hold of to yank me out from the depths of my own personal hell. The usual gasp brings me to, followed by Tavi's face in my line of sight. He’s right there, in my bubble, and I’m safe in his arms, in the same bed we’ve been sharing for days. His head rears back slowly as he bores into me questioningly.

“You okay?”

I shake my own, still somewhat short of breath, heart thundering in my chest. His expression softens dramatically and, without another word, he pulls me into him, tucking my head beneath his chin. "I've got you, little wolf. I’ve got you. You're safe.”

Feeling his arms around me is like a balm, soothing some of my nerves in a ripple effect, enough that I melt into him and release an unsteady breath. "I'm so tired of this," I whisper, biting back threatening tears. “I thought it was over, that I was pas—”

"Shhh, I know you are.” He squeezes me tighter. "We're gonna figure this out, okay? We’re gonna figure out why it’s happening and how we can stop it. For good."

I do nothing but nod, exhaling another deep breath, because what am I supposed to say? It’s not that I don’t believe him, I just don’t know if there’s anything thatcanbe done.

"Just sleep. I've got you. I'm right here," he whispers, running the tips of his fingers up and down my back.

Lulling me into a slumber that proves home is where the heart is.

And my heart is now here, where the whisper warns Ishouldbe.

Or should I?

?Die Trying - Michl?

“Okay, but why is this happening?” I ask the witch fairly early the next morning.

I was able to get Wendy back to bed after another abrupt and quite unexpected episode, but I barely slept in its wake. Laid there for hours rubbing her back, shushing her softly upon every hushed whimper.

She’s had enough of this, and quite honestly, so have I.

“It could be a number of different reasons, but I can't tell you anything for certain unless you let me tap into her head. The mind reveals all and—"

"Absolutely not. I’ve already told you that’s not going to fly. She’s been throughenoughas it is for me to let you rifle in there."

"Then I can't help you, Tavi.” Persia lifts her chin and squares her shoulders. “The best I can do is whip up some teas for her to drink before bed."

“Tea?” My face screws up in acrimony. “That’s all you’ve got is tea? Seriously?”

“At the moment, yes. As we discussed last night, I’ve not been feeling like myself lately. Illness can, unfortunately, dampen magic.”

Oh, I remember. Didn’t buy it last night and I’m definitely not buying it now. I’ve seen the way she’s looked at Wendy since we walked into the Sanctuary. It’s the same way most of the townspeople do.

Questioningly. Warily.

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