I don’t feel pretty.Liv’s eyelids were heavy.They drifted down, and the last thing she heard was Erik’s voice, soft and reflective.
“Don’t worry, beautiful.I’m on the job.”
* * *
Like a CD player being jostled, or a momentary loss in coverage causing streaming music to hiccup.One moment she was curled in Erik’s arms during a snowstorm, the next her eyes flew open and she stared uncomprehending at a windshield, snow-choked wipers moving in leisurely arcs and a cone of headlight glare dancing off whirling flakes.
It was still coming down hard, real blizzard conditions.She blinked and turned her head, hoping the disconnected feeling filling her skull didn’t mean a nightmare.
“You passed out from overload.”Erik was in the driver’s seat.It was yet another SUV, pale blue, jacked up high, and with chained snow tires biting through a slippery soft blanket of killing white.A faint ghost of cigarette smoke clung to the interior under the screen of that funny, musky cleaning-magic; this vehicle wasn’t nearly as nice as the others.
Is that what happened?Liv couldn’t find a single blessed thing to say.
“It’s normal after a fight like that,” he continued softly.“But good news, we’re almost there.You feel it?”
She felt something, all right.At least it wasn’t the miserable need to pee.“Weird,” she managed, her tongue a little too big for her mouth.
The road before them looked freshly plowed.Buildings pressed close to either side, and there was a rising seashell murmur slipping directly into her skull if she looked out the window and concentrated, so she didn’t.Instead, she studied the dashboard, the cigarette lighter—God knew you couldn’t leavethatout of an American car—and her jean-clad knees sitting obediently side by side.
She was dry, she was warm, but the strange sea-noise was getting louder.Was she hearing their mad god?“I can hear things.”Her hands turned into fists, well-bitten nails digging into her palms.The childhood habit of chewing on her fingertips had returned with a vengeance.“All sorts of things.”
“I know.”It was either deeply comforting or completely irritating that he sounded so calm and certain; she couldn’t decide.“It’ll be better inside the temple, but for right now just close your eyes and think about walls.”
“Is ithim?”Funny, how she was laying the same stress on the word the three of them did.
“What?Oh, no, Dreamers are immune.It’s probably just telepathy.”
Oh, is that all?“Where are we?”Her empty stomach lurched again, informing her it was definitely not impressed with any of this bullshit.
“Just outside St.Cloud.Don’t worry, I canfeelthe temple here.They chased us almost to the city limits; good thing you were out cold.”
Yeah.Super.“It’s getting louder.”The urge to clap her hands over her ears rose, but it wouldn’t do any good.The call, as Jada would intone during Movie Night, was coming from inside the house.
“I don’t doubt it.”Erik hit the blinker, swinging them into a wallowing left turn.“Keep your eyes shut and think about walls, Liv.”
What the fuck?“Why walls?”
“It’ll help you keep them out.”
“Them?”How strange; she’d thought her fear-maker was busted under recent strain, but apparently it was still capable of cranking out the high-octane stuff.“What’sthem?”
“People, beautiful.Just normal people going about their business.”Erik sucked in a harsh breath, but he didn’t hit the brakes.The vehicle wallowed a bit before chains bit again and they crept forward.“It’s natural, and it’ll be okay.I was betting you’d show the usual secondary talents as soon as you met the Flame, too.Just relax.They can get loud, but they can’t hurt you.It’s just like a turned-up radio.”
“It’s in my head.”Unsteady, oozing panic began to beat behind her breastbone.“Oh God, Erik, it’s inside myhead?—”
“Yes.”A single short, sharp word.“Once we get inside the shields it’ll be better.I need you to hold on, Liv.”
Oh, sure.Hold on.That’ll do it.But it helped to know what was happening, and helped some more that he sounded crisp, authoritative, and absolutely in charge of the situation.
Her throat was dry as the Sahara.“Is this ever going to stop?”The darkness behind her eyelids wasn’t comforting, but did help turn the volume down a little.It was like hearing your neighbor play music so loud the words were gone and your dishes chattered a little in the cupboards.
She was never going to see her condo’s tidy, sunflower-themed kitchen again.There were people who cleaned up houses and apartments after violent crimes; there had to be ones who took care of the disappeared.How many of the statistics were people like her?
How many had been eaten by monsters?Liv laced her shaking fingers together and tried not to think about it, squeezing hard.
“Temple walls are shielded,” Erik continued.“It’ll be nice and quiet there.They’ll get you looked at, get you fed, get you settled in aliraimand?—”
“Another cell?”She shivered, though the vents in the dashboard were giving out plenty of heat.
