Page 103 of Demon Apathy: Sunderverse
In most cases. Those three words seemed to resonate louder than the others.
I nodded, trying to strengthen my resolve. Getting Truesight was the smart choice. Like Grant had said, it could save my life as it had saved his. It was what I needed to reclaim myself, because remaining attached to Drevan would be my death sentence. I had to get him out of my head and out of my heart. Seeing his true form would accomplish both.
Preston extended a hand toward the chair. “Sit.”
My stomach churned with nerves, and all my doubts tried to push forward, except the old Lucia took charge.
You’re doing this.
I stepped forward and sat.
Wearing a gentle smile, Preston went around the chair and stopped at my ankles and wrists, strapping them. “I hope it’s not too tight,” he said when he was done.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “No, it’s fine.”
Next, he walked to the cabinet in the back of the room. I heard him root around but couldn’t see what he was doing. Instead, I tried to focus on Grant’s kind face, which still managed to surprise me now and then. The Grant who had worked with Drevan to redeem me had made a strong impression I hadn’t altogether shaken off.
“Lift your head,” Preston said behind me.
I did as he instructed without thinking, and the next thing I knew, he slipped something over my head and secured it around my shoulders. Cold metal pressed against my temples and neck as he strapped things in place. My panic surged, and I fought the urge to use my telekinetic skills to free myself.
“This is just to ensure you don’t move your head while I’m working on your eyes.”
My fingers twitched as I itched to use my powers.
Preston patted my hand. “And the chair has dampened your telekinesis, so we don’t have to worry about any interference.”
What?!
I flex my fingers toward one of the jars on the first shelf. It didn’t move.
“You must be from Missouri.” Preston laughed at his own joke, the tired reference about being from theshow-mestate, which in fact I was. But I wasn’t amused. I’d never been without my telekinetic abilities, and I didn’t like the fact that he’d taken them away.
“Just relax, Ms. Sunder,” Grant said. “Take a deep breath. You’re in good hands.”
I tried to nod but couldn’t move my head. Instead, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to imagine I was lying in bed, but that was when my eyelids shot open of their own accord.
Preston was leaning over me, his eyes looking huge through his thick glasses. He had something in his hand… an eyedropper with a bead of iridescent liquid trembling at its tip.
I fought to squeeze my eyes shut, but it was useless. They started burning from my inability to blink. I opened my mouth to say I’d changed my mind, but nothing came out.
The drop fell and splashed into my eye. I expected it to hurt, but it didn’t. I exhaled in relief as Preston’s hands moved and he deposited a second drop in my other eye. The old man pulled back, screwing the dropper into a small bottle and placing it on the table. He whistled as he went about, and I found I could blink again. But my eyeballs felt different, numb. I swiveled them around, but it was as if they weren’t in there. I didn’t feel a thing. The drops were some sort of anesthetic, I realized.
Preston returned and stood directly behind me. Lifting his hands, he placed them over my eyes. Once more, my eyelids froze open. Carefully, he started weaving an intricate pattern in the air, his arthritic-looking fingers moving dexterously, like a young man’s.
I waited, my heart lodged in my throat. After what felt like an eternity, red light sparked from his fingertips and, without preamble, shot straight into my eyes.
Adrenaline shot through my veins and slammed into my chest, making my heart go wild. My wrists and ankles strained against the straps, and I tried to turn my face away, but I couldn’t move. At first, I felt nothing but desperate panic, but gradually, a dull ache started thrumming in the back of my head.
It doesn’t hurt. In most cases.Preston’s words echoed in my mind.
During my research, I’d read about the possibility of pain, but I’d hoped it wouldn't happen to me. Was something wrong?
Chill, Lucia. It’s just a headache. You can handle it.
The pain intensified. Tears slid down the corners of my eyes, leaving warm tracks behind. Slowly, the headache mounted until it felt as if knives were being driven through my temples.
A scream caught in my throat.
