“I’m going to set you down.”
I let out a moan. Standing seemed like too much effort. I was drowning in emotion. I’d heard when a person died they saw their life flash before them. In my case, I did see my life, but worse, I felt it too. All of the emotions I should’ve experienced when they happened. There was agony when I broke my arm, pain when I fell out of the tree house and cut my forehead open. Worse than that was the guilt, the shame, and the remorse. More often than I’d been hurt I realized how much I’d hurt other people. And I felt their pain.
“No,” I cried. “Please. No.” The words ripped from my throat. I deserved to be alone, but I didn’t want him to let me go. I thought I might die without Adam’s touch.
“Hang on, Beatrice.” Adam adjusted me in his arms and got the car door open. “I can’t get you home if I don’t drive. I’ve got to put you in the car.”
“No. Please.”
“I’m going to buckle you next to me. You can rest your head in my lap.”
That meant whole seconds without his touch.
“Otherwise I’ll need to call an ambulance. Would you rather I do that?”
“No.” It was the only word I could get out.
He grunted and slid me into the seat and then buckled me in. Then he got in on the driver’s side and the Lykan roared to life. “I’ll hurry.”
I tried to lay my head in his lap but the gearshift was in the way. Another whimper escaped my lips. Shame washed over me, burying all the other emotions momentarily. But like the ocean waves, they came back, crashing through my body, stronger than ever. I felt like I was going to be sick. My head rolled to the side.
“Don’t puke in this car, Beatrice.” His voice was strong, not hard, but forceful. He took my small hand in his large one. My emotions abated slightly.
I covered my mouth with my hand. My face was wet. I realized I was still crying.
After a while the car stopped. Adam let go of my hand. As soon as the pressure of his touch was gone, the emotions came back, fiercer than ever. It was as though each one fought the others to be the strongest. They continued to build and build.
“Adam?” I wanted him to hold my hand. For some reason all of this was easier to deal with when he did. But he didn’t come. Had he just left me in the car?
Feelings of abandonment hurled against my heart. I cried out, the ache was so strong. My fingers found the door handle and I opened it. My knees hit the ground and then the rest of me. The concrete was cool against my hot skin. It helped with the nausea.
But it didn’t help abate the memories and the feelings I should’ve had for the past eighteen years. They kept going and going, like a TV show. Except instead of sound there were feelings. So many of them that I wanted to die if that would make the pain go away.
A distinct voice made its way inside my head. If she lives through the pain caused by the curse, there may be hope for her yet. It sounded like Fizban.
If she dies, all hope for the Vaktare dies with her. That was Greg or Fizban as Greg. It gave me a little satisfaction to realize she was talking to herself. Maybe she was crazier than me. Or maybe I was so off my rocker I just believed I was hearing two people that were actually one who didn’t exist at all.
If that’s what it takes, Fizban said, her voice hard, interrupting my mental ramblings. I wanted to sink my fangs into her wretched neck. Even as I had the thought I wondered where it came from. I didn’t have fangs. Did I?
But one thing was becoming clear. The curse, pretend or not, had wakened emotions I’d never felt before.
“She’s in . . .”
“Where the hell is she, boy?” That was Isaac. He sounded afraid.
“Help. Please.” I called out softly.
Two sets of feet padded closer. I blinked my eyes open. Isaac squatted down. Adam lifted me into his arms from his standing position. Obviously the guy was strong.
“Take her upstairs.”
“Something seems to be seriously wrong with her. Shouldn’t we take her to the hospital? Let the doctors help her?” As Adam spoke he pressed my body closer to his chest.
“No, Adam. I think you know human doctors can’t help her now.” Isaac said those words, but I must’ve heard him wrong. Why couldn’t they help? If I were going crazy, a special crazy person doctor might be exactly what I needed. Maybe a white jacket, some strong medication. Anything to take away this pain.
“It hurts,” I sobbed.
“Fine. I’ll carry her upstairs.”
“I’ll make her some tea.” That was Mrs. Dotts. Tea was my favorite drink, but even that didn’t sound good. A nice T-bone. That might be better. But as I thought about eating the nausea came back. I leaned into Adam’s chest and puked.
Eight
So Completely Evil
Every time I opened my eyes, Adam was there. Several times he was shirtless. And whoa, he should always be shirtless. It was a crime for him to wear a shirt. His torso was too beautiful to be covered up. It was like hiding a Monet painting.
I think I actually told him as much once while fading in and out of consciousness. His mouth twitched. I wanted to tell him it was okay to smile, but I couldn’t find the words in between all of the emotions filleting my insides.
Whenever Adam held my hand, the pain subsided. His touch was icy relief to my furnace of pain.
Isaac and Mrs. Dotts took turns sitting with me as well, but their touch did nothing, though I did find it comforting to see that they cared even after all the years I’d treated them horribly.
After what seemed like forever, the pain slowly began to shift from all-consuming to a crackling and tearing around just my heart. In certain ways having the pain localized hurt worse.
Some of the worst agony was the most recent. Watching what I’d tried to do with Greg in order to hurt Eva. The way I’d treated Will. How could I have thrown his birthday present into the pool? It was so rude, so completely evil. As I watched my memories, experienced the emotions that should’ve gone along with them, I wondered what my friends and Will gained by continually spending time in my presence. I’d been awful.
“It hurts,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Adam said, lifting his head. His hair was tousled and his lids were heavy.
He must’ve fallen asleep while sitting in the chair next to my bed. His hand covered mine. The pain immediately subsided.
“Thank you,” I said, hoping he could see the sincerity in my expression.
He nodded, wincing.
“Are you uncomfortable? You can lie down on the bed . . .” His eyebrows lifted. “If you want,” I continued, totally humiliated.
Adam climbed on the bed and lay down beside me. He was so close his breath tickled my cheek.
“Is that better?”
“Much,” he said and was about to smile but stopped short.
“Smile whenever you like,” I said, forcing myself to breathe. Even that hurt.
“How are you feeling?” Adam asked, brushing some hair off my face. His finger was like a soothing balm for every place he touched.
“Well that’s just it,” I began. “I’m feeling. Everything. All at once.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “It’s hurts so freaking bad, Adam.”
Adam’s eyes softened. “That must be difficult.”
I nodded, brushing at a wayward tear. “I’ve cried more in the past . . . How long have I been like this?”
Adam checked his watch. “Nearly twenty-four hours.”
“That’s all?” I searched his face. “It feels like ages.”
“What’s going on?” Adam asked.
I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know.” How could I explain that some guy who could transform into a girl with red hair had cursed me?