Instead, it grew closer to me, and the smoke-like figure spoke.
“You wish for me to leave him alone?” It was female, speaking with an aloof and almost mocking tone. It sounded as though she was continuing a conversation, the first half of which had been missed. “What payment are you willing to give me for your request?”
Words jumbled together, hers and mine, but everything remained stubbornly out of reach. It didn’t matter, I knew what was being said. Fear washed over me, and the only sound I could focus on was that of my own heart.
Then, the agreement was made. She was pleased. Her golden eyes watched mine, and she reached a limb-like appendage out toward me. “You must agree.”
I was that child again, and the terror had almost petrified me. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to touch this thing. I knew it was a memory, but everything felt so real.
I wanted to run away. I wanted to say no.
But I couldn’t. If I didn’t do this, Finn would die.
I had had no choice. “Y-y-yes.”
And then there was pain. Fire spreading through my every nerve. I was being burned alive.
For the second time in two days, I jerked awake. Even though it hadn’t been real and I wasn’t there, the echoes of pain echoed through me. The memory of that day still caused me pain.
“What’s wrong?” Damen’s voice, thick with sleep, pulled my attention from the remnants of my dream. The pain vanished as my attention shot toward the corner of the room.
Damen was pushy and annoying, and he made my heart race. I should have been happy to see him. But the sight of him lounging between two chairs caused a surge of annoyance to shoot through me.
Out ofeveryone, why did it have to be him?
The surge of emotion faded quickly, guilt immediately taking its place. Why was I annoyed he was here? This was a good thing, right?
But how was he here?
Goose bumps broke out over my skin. “D-D-Damen? What are you doing here?”
He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. An instant later, the sleep wiped from his face, he was on his feet rushing to me.
“Bianca.” This time when he said my name, his voice was strange. He sat on the bed, facing me. Close, but not touching. “What happened?”
What did he mean? I still had no idea how he had even gotten in here. “What are you—”
“Dr. Stephens pulled some strings, for me. I’m now a temporary employee!” he explained, an almost proud look on his face. “He’s claiming it’s a part of my internship.”
Oh Lord.
Why did he look so proud, as if he’d solved world hunger? There were so many issues with this plan I couldn’t even begin. Starting with, “Didn’t you say, repeatedly and very loudly, that you have no interest in clinical psychology? You’re a forensic psychologist. They aren’t the same thing.” How in the world did these boys make it so far in life without my wisdom?
“I know that.” Damen frowned, appearing slightly put out. “But the undergraduate degree is the same.”
I rubbed my temples, a migraine beginning to form. “I thought you wanted to be discreet. This isn’t discreet at all,” I muttered, wondering how long it would take for rumors to spread. It was one thing to have Julian be my doctor, but people were bound to notice Damen was suddenly hanging around a clinic.
He wasn’t even dressed for the part!
“You’re not wearing scrubs,” I pointed out, noting his rumpled shirt and jeans. “You’re not even trying.”
“You’re not happy to see me?” Damen leaned closer, lowering his head to meet my gaze. We were close, but the intensity between us seemed different. I couldn’t put my finger on how. “Am I making you uncomfortable? Do you want me to leave?”
He moved closer, and I couldn’t stop the heat rushing through my blood. The room was getting too hot, and it was harder to breathe. “N-n-no…”
“Perfect,” he said, standing up and walking to the door. I watched, confused, as he opened it and whispered something to someone on the other side. Then he returned to his previous position in front of me.
“How do you feel?” he asked.