Somehow, she thought he was the least of her problems.
She could smell blood, metallic and sweet. But it
didn’t rouse the hunger, which could mean only one
thing. It washerblood. Damn.
There was a faint rustling and more words, low
voiced, angry. She couldn’t hear them, just the tone. Or
maybe she heard nothing at all. No sound. Maybe all
was just a void, an empty place that was cold and silent
and the voices were inside her head, crawling out of
the open grave of her darkest nightmares.
Her mother’s face was before her, streaked with
tears. She saw a glimmer of silver in her mother’s hand,
then felt the cold weight of a heavy chain around her
neck. She heard a man’s voice. She didn’t like that
voice. It made her afraid. Then she saw only darkness.
She had no idea where she drifted or how long, but
suddenly there were knives inside her. No, not knives.
Saws, buzzing and whirring and shredding her skin and
bone. Agony ripped her from the nothingness. She
screamed and screamed, but no sound came out. There
was no breath for sound, so her cries echoed only in
her head, in her heart, terror and dread.
“Roxy.” Her name was a command, the single word
bringing her back from the edge of mindless panic. “I
have to lift you and it’s going to hurt.”
Hurt.Was this what Rhianna had felt? Such pain?
Or was it different when all your nerve endings were
burned away?
254
SINS OF THE HEART
