Page 58 of Barely Breathing

Then what?

I touch my amulet. “What do you think, Draakmar?”

I feel the creature stir like a sleepy child turning in a warm bed, refusing to wake up.

“Thanks,” I drawl sarcastically. “That’s a lot of help.”

It might be helpful if I knew what this ritual was for. I mean, the fact they’re going through all this trouble and calling it a ritual signifies that it’s not a good thing. What the hell is wrong with supernaturals? Are they so bored they have to invent new ways to fuck things up? Why can’t a ritual be like… I don’t know. Is world peace too dull?

I stare at the mirror.

“Too bad zombies don’t get respect from the supernaturals,” I mutter, pushing my hair back from my face. “I might actually have a chance.”

My brain goes onto autopilot as I start making myself look presentable. I pull my hair back and put on some makeup, making sure to cover up the healing bite wounds. After I dress to the lowest ofAstrid’s standards, I leave the room searching for breakfast.

Astrid’s voice drifts from somewhere in the penthouse, pulling me toward it. From the one-sided conversation, it sounds like she’s talking on the phone. “The Freemonts are involved. They’ve been seen with the Alpha...”

The mention of the Freemonts triggers something. Another sharp pain lances through my temple, and I stumble. I press my palm over my eye. This is worse than the first time.

The hallway feels like it tilts sideways, and I grab the wall to steady myself. The scent of salt water and diesel fuel fills my nose, so intense and sudden it makes me woozy. Images flash through my mind like a strobe light, each one hitting harder than the last. I see Chester’s face illuminated by red light, feel the press of uneven metal against my back, and hear the distant sound of chains clanking.

None of it makes sense.

The pain becomes more intense. I suck in a deep breath and hold it. Astrid’s voice fades as if she’s being pulled away from me. The penthouse disappears, and I feel as if I’m flashing through time.

Flash. I’m sixteen, peeping through the spyhole in the Devine library, watching as Mabel and the vampire Robert plot to overthrow Costin. Sweat trickles down my spine.

Flash. Chester’s hands are glowing with magic. He reaches for my throat, and I feel the power stinging my skin. His voice whispers, “What are you even doing here?”

Flash. Cool fingers caress my face. Costin’s eyes swirl with red. “Sleep now. Forget...”

My lungs force out my breath with a rough pant, and I realize I’m on the floor of the penthouse hallway, propped against the wall. The walls stretch like a bad acid trip. My stomach tenses. My headache throbs in time with my quick pulse, and each beat releases waves of pain throughout my skull.

I try to decipher the images flashing through my thoughts, but the memories feel like shards of broken glass, cutting deeper each time I try to grasp them.

“Mom,” I cry, desperate for help. I never call her that, but it’s all the sound I can eke out.

“Tamara?” Astrid’s voice pierces through the fog, closer now. She appears in the doorway to the library, her phone clutched in a white-knuckled grip. Her heels click against the marble floor with rushed precision. “What’s happening?”

I try to answer, but my thick tongue feels clumsy. I taste blood. The metallic flavor floods my mouth as another fragment surfaces. I can’t lift my arms to reach for her as she leans over me.

Flash. Chester’s face is bathed in blinking redlights, his eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction. The image vanishes as fast as it comes, leaving a lingering echo of clanking chains and the phantom sensation of magic burning against my throat.

When my sight returns to the present, Astrid kneels beside me on the floor. “You’re bleeding. Tilt your head back.”

The amulet pulses against my chest like a second heartbeat, its heat matching the fever in my blood. Deep within me, Draakmar thrashes as if the dragon is writhing to shake the memories free.

Astrid grabs my hair and forces my head back. For once, I feel like her perfect composure cracks. She pulls me against her chest to prop my head against her shoulder to keep my face pointed at the ceiling. I feel her pinching the bridge of my nose. Tiny pulses of magic come from her fingers.

“There we go,” she soothes. “It’s just a little nosebleed.”

The words are unconvincing, and I wonder which of us she’s trying to persuade.

“I can’t…” I try to explain. My body convulses. Draakmar keeps trying to pry open the locked door.

Another memory hits like a physical blow. I taste burned meat and the sound of magic crackles through the air. Something presses against my throat, and I hear the distant howl. It’s too painful,and I try to fight it. The fragment shatters, leaving me gasping.

The pain lessens, and my vision clears. Astrid holds me tight, her fingers pulsing magic into my nose. I still taste blood and reach for my face to wipe my mouth.

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