Page 90 of Precious Hazard

My sister smiles. I can’t really see it because she’s too far away, but I’m certain it’s true. “It’s not me you’re searching for.”

She’s right. I’ve been trying to find someone else. But who?

“You already found her. The one you’ve been looking for all along. You just haven’t realized it, yet.”

“Found who?” I step closer. “Tell me!”

“Salvation comes in many forms, Arturo.”

“Salvation?” I reel back while despair overwhelms me. “I’m incapable of saving anyone, sis. I couldn’t save you! I searched and searched, but in the end, someone else ended up rescuing you. I failed. Failed both my sisters. Almost lost Sienna, too, because of my mistakes. I won’t fail anyone else.”

The cold wind blows, sending dust and debris into my face. The temperature must have dropped even further.

My sister cants her head, watching me like she finds my words amusing.

“She is not the one who needs saving.” Soft words drift toward me. “It’s you.”

Me? What do I need to be saved from?

“From yourself, Arturo.”

The streetlight fades, casting the alley into darkness, the silhouette of my sister dissolving into thin air. Only her words are left behind. Carried by the freezing wind. Echoing off the walls. Ringing inside my head like a piercing Klaxon.

“Arturo!… Arturo!… Arturo!”

“Arturo!” I yell, shaking his shoulders. “Wake up!”

Sweat is clinging to his scorching-hot skin as he thrashes from side to side. I’ve been trying to wake him up for several minutes. This isn’t normal, and I’m starting to freak the hell out. I shake him again, harder this time, while trying to ignore the panic that’s threatening to overwhelm me.

Finally, his body stills. His eyelids slowly flutter open.Thank God!

“You must have had a night—”

Wait. Something isn’t right. He’s looking at me, but his eyes are unfocused. I take his face between my hands. Beneath my palms, he’s burning up.

Fever.

“It’s… cold. So cold here,” he drawls while tremors rack his body. His gaze is aimed in my general direction, but it’s as if he’s looking through me.

“Arturo?” I shake him. Lightly this time. “Look at me.”

An odd, barely-there smile pulls at his lips. “Sure. I always enjoy looking at you,gattina. Even when you’re throwing canapés at me.”

I gape at him. Crazy man. “You have a fever.”

“Mm-hmm… Can I have a kiss, too? That wild kind where you bite my tongue?” His lips form into a pout. The movement is slow as if he’s tempting me to take him up on his offer.

He’s delirious. And definitely running a fever. A bad one, it seems.

“Great,” I mutter to myself.

What do I do? How does one deal with such a high temperature? Drago has never been sick, not with any serious illness. And I’ve only ever had sore throats and the stomach flu. What the fuck do I do?

I was prepared to deal with many unpleasant things when I came to live in this house, but not this. Not this gut-wrenching fear that’s settled in me as I watch my husband with no idea how to help him. Hell, give me another long lecture or a shouting match on my utter ineptitude at being a proper wife, I’d rather endure that. Not this.

Not this.

Scrambling down from the bed, I run to find my purse. Sienna will know how to take care of her brother. As soon as my fingers wrap around the phone, I hit her number.

---