Heat Stroke-WW-2 by Rachel Caine

Author:Rachel Caine [Caine, Rachel]
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy fiction, Contemporary, Fiction - Fantasy, General, Fantasy, Weather, Fantasy fiction; American, Fiction, Fantasy - Contemporary
ISBN: 9780451459848
Publisher: WW 2
Published: 2004-08-02T07:00:00+00:00

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

shoulder. I remembered rain, falling like perfect diamonds from the soft gray sky. I remembered wind licking cool over my skin. I remembered thunder vibrating through me like the voice of God. Dreams and memories are so very close to the same thing.

In the dream, in the memory, I fell down on the cool, damp grass and wailed in fright, and there was somebody there, gathering me up, holding me, stroking away the pain and fear and tears. Shhhh. It was my mother’s voice, warm and blurred the way things are in dreams. They’ll hear you . I was too young to talk, but somehow I was talking anyway. Who ?

Her hands smoothed my hair in gentle, careful strokes. You know . I did. I cuddled in closer to her warmth. Overhead, the clouds muttered to each other in a language I could almost understand, and I reached out to them and felt them draw closer, all soft edges and cold alien intensity.

They wanted me. I wanted them. In my simple child logic, I thought that meant there was no danger; anything that was interested in me had to be my friend, didn’t it?

I didn’t understand that interest could also be hunger. That there were parts of me that were tender and juicy and oh so delicious, and that the world was full of predators who wanted to scoop out those tasty tidbits. No, I didn’t understand that.

But my mother did. Be careful , she whispered in my ear. Something’s coming. You need to be ready, sweetheart. You need to understand how to see behind the smiles . What’s behind the smiles? I asked her, in my little-child voice. She showed me teeth. Long, sharp, needle-thin teeth, the better to eat you with, my dear.

Don’t trust anyone, she hissed. And then she let go, and I fell up into the clouds, and felt myself being stripped raw, pulled apart, burned, broken, destroyed.

See, it was just a dream. Or a memory. Or a nightmare.

Except the parts that actually happened.

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