Jennifer Estep Bundle by Jennifer Estep

Author:Jennifer Estep
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2011-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

I was out of it for a while after that. I tried to stay awake, really, I did. You would think it would have been easy, given all the shouting, noise, and general commotion. But time after time, my eyes slid shut, and I just didn’t have the energy to stop them. All I got to see of my dramatic rescue were these little snapshots whenever I woke up for a minute or two.

Coach Ajax carrying me out of the trees and putting me on a stretcher that was attached to the back of a snowmobile. Professor Metis wrapping me in warm thermal blankets to help get my body temperature back up where it should be. Even Nickamedes was there, throwing the snowmobile into gear and racing down the mountain faster than I thought the librarian would ever dare to drive.

Finally, though, the cold, wind, and noise faded away, replaced by soft, soothing, quiet warmth. I dreamed then—strange dreams about all sorts of things. Well, they weren’t really dreams so much as disjointed images and old memories, not all of which were my own.

I’d had these sorts of dreams before. Thanks to my Gypsy gift, I never forgot anything that I saw or felt when I touched an object and got a vibe off it. Sometimes, when I went to sleep, my mind randomly surfed through other people’s memories, other people’s feelings. Usually I saw things that I’d already experienced, thanks to my magic. Other times the images were completely new. I didn’t always notice every little thing when I touched an object and flashed on it. But all the information was floating around in my mind, and sometimes my subconscious kicked in and showed me what I’d missed.

Either way, it was like watching a movie in my head, and more often than not, I felt like Alice roaming through Wonderland and staring at all the curious things around her.

This time was no different. One after another, various flickers, flashes, and flares of memory filled my mind. The arrow quivering in the bookcase beside my head at the Library of Antiquities. The shriek of the calliope music from the Winter Carnival turning into the roar of the avalanche. The Fenrir wolf sitting in the snow staring at me with its red, red eyes. Even my mom, climbing into her car.

Somehow I knew this last memory was from the night my mom had been killed by a drunk driver—and I was watching her get into her car for the very last time before the accident. But the really bizarre thing was that it was a memory I shouldn’t even have. I hadn’t been there the night my mom had left the police station—or touched anything that would give me a vibe about the accident. At least, not that I knew of, and I think I would have remembered that, even in my weird, twisted dreams.

“Mom?” I mumbled.

My mom opened her car door and slid inside. Cold, sweaty panic filled me, and I suddenly couldn’t breathe.

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