Cainsville: Visions Part 49

"I don't understand you," I said. "I-"

Heat roared through me, like being thrust back into that fiery ray of sunlight, and I convulsed, gasping. His cool hand went to my forehead. An exclamation that might have been a curse, but the word meant nothing to me. His arm slid around my shoulders. He said something. I struggled to focus, but even keeping my eyes open was too much effort. The room dipped and flared red.

He said the word again. I heard syllables then, but still nothing that made any sense. His arm gripped me, his fingers digging into my shoulder.

"-a!" His voice came clear. "Olivia!"

I pa.s.sed out.

I surfaced into a nightmare world. I was a child, being stolen from my home, carried through the dark streets by a stranger. I'd been asleep when he took me and now I woke, in his arms, feeling the rush of cold night air against my skin, hearing the pound of his footsteps, smelling the stink of sweat and fear.

My limbs shot out, punching and jabbing and kicking as I struggled to be free. The man said something unintelligible. His face hovered above me. Yet it was no face. Just a pale blur. When I swung, he caught me by the wrist.

A pounding, like someone kicking a door. A white door. It swung open. A monstrous face leaned out, mouth opening, sharp teeth flashing, coming for me.

I screamed. Another rush of air as we tumbled through the doorway, the man still holding me tight against my struggles.

A woman's voice now, the words meaningless. I caught sight of the man's featureless face again and swung my fist up. It connected with a thwack. The man grunted but still didn't let go, carrying me upstairs now, into a yawning pit of darkness lit only by a distant wavering orange light.

Fire. He was taking me into the fire. My skin already burned, and he was going to throw me into- Another light. Blinding. White. The shock of it stopped the pounding in my head for a split second, and I heard a voice, and words now.

"Ice! We need ice!"

The arms lowered me to the floor. I thrashed there, moaning, fire scouring through me, so hot it burned away the nightmare, and I caught sight of a purple towel hanging on a rack. I'd seen that towel before. Admired the color.

Where had I seen it? Where was I?

A gurgling sound. Then a roar. Water rushing into a tub.

Whose bathroom?

I struggled to hold on to the questions. My brain kept dropping them as I writhed on the floor, moaning, my mind and body ablaze. A dark shape blocked the searing light, and I blinked up to see- Gabriel. I saw Gabriel.

I tried to say something, but words wouldn't come. He scooped me up. Then he lowered me into a tub of cold water. I yelped and flailed. He held me down, and the world threatened to tip into nightmare again, being held in a tub of cold water, drowned in- "Olivia? Can you hear me?"

He knelt beside the tub, face above mine, hands on my shoulders, holding me in the tub but not pushing me under.

"You have a fever," he said. "You're burning up. You were delirious."

"Where...?" The answer came with a click as I saw the towels again. "Rose."

"She's downstairs calling the doctor and getting ice."

"Ice." I shivered at the thought of it. "Please. Yes. So..." My throat seemed to seize, parched. "So hot."

"I know."

His hand brushed sweat-soaked hair from my face. Then he dipped his hand into the water and did it again, the chill so refreshing I sighed.

"Better?"

I nodded.

He leaned over the tub. "You'll be all right."

He looked down at me, and all I could see were his eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes, sharp with worry, and I swore I could feel their coolness wash over me. I wanted to lose myself in those eyes, just- "Ice." Rose strode in, appearing over Gabriel. She looked down at me in the tub. "She's still dressed."

"Of course," Gabriel said.

A strained half smile as she shook her head then bent with the bowl of ice. "Is she lucid?" she asked.

Gabriel nodded as he grabbed the ice and dumped it in. I let out a gasp as the ice hit the water-and me.

"I was asking so I could warn her before doing that." Rose said, "Can you hear me, Olivia?"

I nodded.

"I've called the doctor. She'll be here soon. You should go to the hospital, but Gabriel said-"

"N-no hospital," I said, teeth chattering. "Please."

"I know. Gabriel said you don't like them, but if this fever doesn't drop-"

I didn't hear the rest. The room was tilting, the bright light flickering. My eyelids flagged as I struggled to focus, and then ... Dark.

I surfaced to lucidity a few times. Dr. Webster was there once, while I was still in the tub. She said yes, the fever was dropping. Then I woke again as Rose was stripping me out of my wet clothing and Gabriel was pacing outside the closed door, complaining that it was taking so long, that the doctor said I needed to be in bed, Rose snapping that some idiot put me in a tub while dressed and my clothes were practically glued on now.

Then I woke in bed, Gabriel trying to get me to drink, which he really should have done after I was fully awake, because I was still fevered and thought I was being poisoned, which meant he ended up wearing the water before I drifted off again.

When I woke next, it was to Gabriel and Rose arguing-I was dehydrated and if they couldn't get fluids into me, I had to go to the hospital. I roused myself enough then to drink a whole gla.s.s of water. Then I zonked out, dimly aware of the gla.s.s falling from my hand, hearing it shatter as it hit the hardwood- Darkness.

No matter how deeply my body slept, my fevered brain stayed wide awake, pelting me with nightmares.

I was back in the Tylwyth Teg castle, as Matilda, smiling when the golden-haired man appeared in the doorway. He kissed me, that incredible storybook kiss, desire and l.u.s.t and love and need, and I clung to him, never wanting it to end. But then I heard the hounds and the horses, and I pulled from his arms and turned to look out- At a cityscape. I was high above the city, the night bejeweled with lights. Gabriel's apartment. I gripped the balcony, and when I looked down, I saw my own hands and heard the distant rev of a motorcycle engine.

I turned. Gabriel stood in the open patio doorway, his huge frame filling the s.p.a.ce, looking awkward and uncomfortable.

"You don't want me here," I said.

"It's not that simple."

"It should be."

I stepped toward Gabriel. He backed up fast, as if I might do something crazy, like touch him. Below, the rev of the engine called to me.

I strode to the apartment door. Gabriel made no move to stop me. I pulled it open.

"Don't leave."

I caught the words as I walked out, his voice low, as if he hoped I wouldn't hear them. I glanced back. The apartment door was open and empty, only darkness and silence beyond. I ran back, heart pounding as I raced over the threshold into- Into a morgue. A single light illuminated a table. A corpse lay on it. My corpse. Someone was working on it, a slight figure in hospital scrubs and a face mask.

"You're supposed to be standing watch," the figure said. It was a woman's voice. Vaguely familiar, but too m.u.f.fled by the mask to be identifiable.

"I am," said a man.

I turned to see Tristan sitting on a counter, his legs dangling. He looked amused.

"If anyone catches me here..." the woman began.

"They won't. Now finish."

At first I thought it was an autopsy, but after a moment I realized she was embalming my corpse, naked on the table. There was a book on a cart. A text. Thanatochemistry. Where had I seen that before?

I remembered where I'd seen the book, and as soon as I did, the woman pulled down her mask.

Macy Shaw.

She turned to Tristan. "If you want the head, you have to do that yourself."

He sighed and lifted a bone saw. The floor vanished under my feet, sucking me down and spitting me out- I was lying on the mortuary table. I tried to leap up, but I couldn't move. Fire rushed through my veins. Fire and poison, and I gasped, but it made no sound. I saw Tristan approaching, the light above the table glinting off the saw blade, and I tried to scream- He kissed me. I was standing on a balcony again, feeling arms wrapped around me, but it wasn't the same kiss as in the vision. It was one I knew, one that sparked feelings of grief and nostalgia and anger.

"James," I whispered as I pushed away.

An engine sounded below. Not the rev of a motorcycle. The purr of a high-performance car. I twisted out of James's arms. I was at his mother's house, on the tiny balcony overlooking the driveway. Gabriel was below, standing beside his Jag. It was daytime and he had his shades on. He tugged them off and cast an impatient look up at me.

"Olivia," he called. "We need to go."

"I'll be right-" I began, but James yanked me back.

"He's dangerous," he said.

I sighed. "Yes, I know. I got the file and your message. It doesn't matter. I-"

"No, Liv. You don't understand. Walsh has a plan. An agenda. He's going to use you, and he's going to hurt you. He's a psychopath. You know that, don't you? Will Evans tried to warn you."

"Will Evans helped cover up the murder of his own son. He lied about Gabriel to cover-"

"Evans didn't kill anyone. He got caught up in-" James shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You need to believe me. I've been warned about Walsh, what he'll do to you."

"By who?"

"Men who know what they're talking about. Men who can give us what we want, you and me, the kind of life we want."

I tugged from his grip. "Are they Cn Annwn or Tylwyth Teg?"

"What?" His face screwed up.

"They're lying. That's what they do. Tell lies and sell dreams. You need-"

"Olivia?"

I glanced over the balcony. Gabriel tapped his watch.

"We have work to do," he called.

"Coming," I called back.

I started for the door. James grabbed my arm. I yanked, but he yanked back, pulling me off my feet. I hit the wall, the wind knocked out of me, and I struggled to my feet, staring at him.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" I said.

"Protecting you," he said, advancing.

He caught my arm as it swung to ward him off. He dragged me to the balcony railing, and then there was no railing and I was standing on a ledge outside Gabriel's apartment, fifty-five stories over the street. Below, I could just barely make out the Jag, under a streetlight, and Gabriel beside it, his arms waving.

"Olivia!" His shout reached me. "No!"

James gave me a tremendous shove, and I went over the edge.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR.

I jolted upright in bed, shouting, "No!"

Beside me, I heard a gasp as Gabriel leapt from his chair, eyes wide, fists raised.

We stared at each other for a second, both yanked from sleep.

I recovered first and laughed softly. "Well, I'm glad I was out of punching range when I woke you this time." I'd made the mistake of waking him once, when he'd slept on my couch.

He rubbed his face and fell back into the chair. "Did you cry out?" he said.

"Hmm, I think so. Bad dreams."

"What about?"

I stifled a yawn as I stretched. "I was arguing with James about you, something about what he said yesterday, and..." I shook my head. "That's all I remember."

"How do you feel?"

"Like a train ran me over, followed by a steamroller and then a herd of wild horses."