Page 27 of Laird's Curse


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There seemed to be a hole in Jenna’s chest, a deep, dark hole into which she was falling and when she glanced down, she was surprised to see her chest whole and unmarked. How was that possible? Her heart felt it like it had torn out of her, so how come she was standing here, still breathing, rather than bleeding out her life onto the pristine white tiles?

You can’t go, Mom, she thought.I need you.

And then the hole in her chest swallowed her up and she was being swept away into the darkness. The hospital room, the doctors, the lifeless form of her mom were all torn from her and there was only inky blackness wherever she looked and she was tossed and turned like a pebble in a flood, rushed along in a tide she couldn’t see, hear, or feel.

She would have screamed if she had a voice. She would have triedto fight her way clear if she had arms and legs. But there was nothing to grab onto, only a cold dark sea of… nothing. Then light ahead. A small point of light like a candle flickering in a dark room. She rushed towards it and it grew larger and larger until she found herself standing on the porch of her house.

It was a lovely summer’s evening and a bottle of wine was tucked under her arm and a large pizza clutched in her hand. After all, it was payday and she and Alex deserved a treat didn’t they? She’d even managed to get off work a little early so they could spend the evening together.

She pushed the door open and walked into the hall, halting as a strange sound came from deeper inside the house. Creak. Creak. Creak.

Puzzled, she put down the wine and the pizza and padded through the house, halting outside the bedroom door. The sound was coming from inside. Creak. Creak. Creak. And other sounds as well. Grunts. Sighs. A woman’s moan.

She pushed the door open and stared at the scene within. It was Alex, tangled up with a blonde-haired woman on the bed. Ontheirbed. The woman shrieked as she spotted Jenna and scrambled to pull a sheet over her nakedness.

“Shit!” Alex hissed. “Jenna! I thought you were at work. I—”

She didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. She spun on her heel and walked away, out of the house and along the track that bordered the lake. And her heart, already torn out of her chest, was shredded into a million pieces that blew away on the breeze.

The blackness took Jenna again and this time she didn’t fight it. She didn’t care. Why should she bother? What was left for her? So she raced along in the dark, suffocating tide, utterly alone, just herself and cold, empty dark.

Except, she realized, she wasnotalone. Not quite.

Something had hold of her. Something strong and unyielding,something that brought a flare of warmth into the cold darkness. Then a voice spoke.

“Come back to me, lass.”

The voice was familiar, although she couldn’t quite figure out who it belonged to. It reminded her of open skies and pounding waves, of swaying trees and purple hills. It was deep and warm and so very alive in this endless dark. She latched onto that voice, allowed it to slow her headlong rush into the void.

“Come back to me.”

Where was it coming from? There. She located its source in the darkness and began moving towards it. As she did, the darkness began to recede, becoming first an indistinct gray, then white, then a spectrum of colors, until finally, finally, it shattered around her in a kaleidoscope of rainbow droplets.

Jenna opened her eyes. The red and gold brocade of her bed canopy met her eyes. She blinked, giving her brain time to catch up, then slowly turned her head.

Arran MacLeod was sitting close by her bed, hunched over in the chair, head propped on one hand as he drowsed. His other hand was clasped around hers. This, she realized, was the touch she’d felt in the void. His voice was the one she’d heard, calling her back.

She experimented with using her body. First she wiggled her toes, delighted and surprised when they did what she told them. Then she flexed the fingers of her free hand and turned her head from side to side. Everything worked. She felt tired, but that would pass in time. Considering how close she’d come to losing herself in the magic, she’d been lucky. She would not be so stupid again.

Her gaze fell on Arran. He looked more peaceful than she’d seen him before. His blond hair cascaded to his shoulders in messy waves and his face was free of the lines of care and worry that normally marred it. His broad chest rose and fell gently with his breathing.

She squeezed his hand. “Hey.”

Arran snorted and startled awake, looking around wildly, as though expecting an attack. His gaze settled on her and his eyes widened.

“Ye are awake!”

Jenna smiled sheepishly. “Seems that way.”

“Ha!” Before she could say more, Arran leaned forward, got his arms under her, and wrapped her into a hug, practically lifting her from the bed.

Jenna squeaked in surprise, taken off guard by his obvious relief. What was this? She hadn’t even thought helikedher. His arms were strong and reassuring, his warmth a delightful sensation after the cold dark of the void. She found herself wrapping her arms around him in return and burying her face in his shoulder, allowing herself to be comforted by his stalwart presence.

He released her and sat back, looking a little embarrassed. “My apologies,” he rumbled. “I shouldnae have done that. It’s just… I thought…” He ran out of words and scrubbed a hand through his blond locks.

Jenna grinned. “It’s all right. I could get used to waking up to that.”

Arran smiled wryly and a little thrill went through her. When he smiled, Arran MacLeod was stunningly good-looking.