Page 80 of Cherish

We spend the rest of the night that way, wrapped around each other as we drift halfway between waking and sleep. I know I need to rest, but I don’t know how long it will be before we get to do this again, and I don’t want to waste a second.

But time waits for no one. And as the world begins to stir beneath the vast purple sky, Hudson finally lets me go.

44

Never as Easy as

One, Two, Free

As I step into the shower a few minutes after finally rolling out of bed, a ton of questions assail me.

Are we going to be able to convince the Shadow Queen to give us the antidote for Mekhi?

Are we actually going to be able to do whatever impossible thing we have to do to help split Lorelei and her sister forever?

Are we actually going to be able to find the smuggler Hudson is sure exists and make our way back across the barrier?

I tell myself that we’re going to be able to do everything we came here to do. That it’s all going to work out. That, somehow, it always does.

But as anxiety wells inside me, making my stomach hurt and my lungs burn like they’re running out of air, it’s harder to believe that everything will be okay. And harder to ignore the fact that so much is still hanging over me. The Crone amassing an army of hunters. Hudson still not telling me about what’s going on with him and the Vampire Court.

It’s fine, I tell myself as I finish washing my hair and turn the shower off.

It’s fine, I repeat as I dry myself off and pull on a magenta sweater and my favorite pair of jeans.

It’s fine, I say one more time as I twist my hair into a clip at the back of my head to keep it out of my way.

But none of that seems to matter as a panic attack overcomes me and I tumble inelegantly to the floor.

I brace my hands on my crossed legs as I desperately try to drag air into a chest that suddenly feels like I’ve been underwater way too long.

It doesn’t work.

I count backward from ten and try again to take a deep breath. Again, it doesn’t work.

It feels like I’m suffocating now, and I claw at my throat, trying to open my airway. Trying to find a way to convince my body to just breathe.

“Grace?” Hudson calls. He sounds concerned.

“Just a minute!” I gasp out, trying to sound as normal as I can, considering a six-ton elephant has just taken up residence on my chest.

But I must not sound normal enough, because about two seconds pass before the bathroom door goes flying open and Hudson is standing there with a worried frown on his face.

He takes one look at me, bent over and struggling, and he’s across the room in a single leap.

“You’re okay, Grace,” he tells me, gently pulling me back into a standing position. “You’ve got this.”

I shake my head wildly. It doesn’t feel like I’ve got this. In fact, right now it feels an awful lot like I’m drowning.

“Yes, you do,” he says, calmly placing a hand on my chest. “Make my hand move up and down.”

“I can’t,” I choke out.

“You can.” His voice is steady, firm. “Take a small breath, Grace. Make my hand move just a little bit.”

“I can’t,” I tell him again. But I try anyway, forcing my chest to rise. Forcing my lungs to accept just a little bit of air.

“That’s perfect,” Hudson says as his hand rises and falls very slightly. “Can you do it again?”

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