Page 47 of Shadows of Nightshade
The air moved like a current against me, like silk against skin. Even though I was trying to be brave, I couldn’t stop a whimper as the sensation brushed down my body in the dark. Itreached my feet before it changed. A hand, the telltale sensation of skin over skin, encircled my ankle and held me in a bruising hold.
I was lightheaded with fear, and the touch trailed up my calf, inch by inch. I screamed and kicked at it, stumbling backward as I tried to get away.
The current in the air changed, but I couldn’t hear anything outside of the sound of my panic. The back of my legs smacked against the edge of the tub. I lost my balance and tumbled backward into the now-glacial water.
The pressure around my leg vanished. And an otherworldly growl made my heart race in fear.
“I need it!” It roared and slammed into me.
I wasn’t strong enough.
I slipped under the water, and fingers clawed at my shoulders as the surface closed over my head. I reached for the presence holding me down, but my fingers grasped nothing even though it was impossible to break free from the bruising weight.
I was drowning. It was kind of fitting, really, for me to die in a bathtub. It would be sure to go on my eulogy as something rather expected, considering my history with pools.
How humiliating.
An orange-red light flashed across the surface of the water, cutting through the darkness. As the presence vanished, another set of much larger hands grabbed at my shoulders. They were gentle yet strong, and I was pulled into the air.
Urgent voices driftedthrough the room around me, but I remained oblivious, cradled against a much larger form. The chill and darkness had vanished, but the light was overwhelming to mydeprived senses, and I was temporarily blinded as my eyes struggled to adjust.
“Bianca”—soft hands cupped my cheeks, and as the spots faded from my eyes, Julian’s concerned face floated in my vision—“are you all right?” He lingered along the bare expanse of my arm, and goose bumps broke over my skin in the wake of his touch. I was being held by Titus, and was covered only by my long, thick hair twisted across my chest and lap.
“Bianca?” Julian asked again.
Momentary panic took over—this newest development, coupled with the events of the last few moments, was too much for my frazzled nerves to handle.
“Let me go!” I threw my fist into the air. My palm slammed against something, and although I’d certainly hit Titus, he didn’t drop me. Instead, the arm under my knees shifted, and suddenly, my feet brushed against the slippery floor. It was only then that I was released.
But that wasn’t why I fell.
I leaned against the side of the tub. My heart continued to race as my throat closed.
It was fine. It was fine.
It was only my new friends. They’d saved me. They wouldn’t hurt me.
The dark dots began to fade from the corners of my vision.
“Here.” Damen knelt in front of me. A soft, fluffy towel was draped across my shoulders. “It’s fine now, baby girl,” he said. “You don’t need to be scared anymore.”
Scared.
Why was I so scared?
Normally I’d hide, but when Damen brushed his fingers across my forehead—pushing back my matted hair—something inme broke. I fell toward him, crying, and twisted my fingers in the front of his shirt.
Nobody bothered me, though there was a bustle of movement around me as the tub was drained and the floor dried. But eventually, after my sobs had quieted into hiccupping sniffles, a second presence joined the two of us.
Damen stopped rubbing my back while Julian moved his finger over my cheek. I watched him as he frowned down at me. The room was slowly coming back into focus.
I couldn’t see Damen’s face since I was snuggled up against his chest, but Miles was sitting on the floor near the open bathroom door. He was breathing heavily, and his face was slightly flushed—almost as if he’d exerted a great amount of energy. My worried thoughts tumbled into concern that he might have been hurt.
Then there was Titus, leaning against the wall beside him with his right heel braced against the baseboard. His white shirt clung tightly across his chest, and his arms were crossed. His hair had fallen over his face as he looked to the floor, unmoved.
It was impossible not to tell what he was thinking.
I’d… I’d hurt his feelings.
